Around and around went the mead as Hadding talked.
“While the war raged between Aesir and Vanir, threatening to bring down all the gods, Odin sought wisdom. At the well of Mimir he bought a draught of it with one eye. Then he saw how much more there was to know, still dark to him. Mimir could not teach him, for Mimir had not yet died. However, he could tell Odin where a rede might be found.
“Therefore the All-Father made ready and set forth. He went alone. Those were wild and wildering ways he must tread. Any fellow farer, without the insights that were now his, would be a hindrance, endangering them both. Even he often lost his path on that long trek. Only slowly and painfully did he find It again.
“Down he went to Midgard, and through the world of men. They too had taken up warfare. Blood feud and robbery were also spreading among them. Passing himself off as a wanderer, he must often fight. For him that was easy, but it slowed him, the more so because he gave help to those who befriended this lonely old man.
“Harder was it when he came to Ironwood. Trolls and monsters haunted it, though never was flesh or fish, fruit or root to be gotten. More than human might and skill did he need to win through that barren land.
“Worse yet was when the way took him on downward into hell. Through the freezing cold and darkness of Niflheim he fared, rushing rivers and swarming vipers, past the dragon Nidhogg that gnaws on the deepest roots of the World Tree, and evil beset every furlong.
“Beyond that he must skirt the fires of Muspellheim, where Surt lairs, who shall one day bear them forth to burn all the worlds. The jotuns themselves know not how Odin came unscathed from this giant, and he never spoke of it.
“In the end, he reached his goal, afar in the highest mountains of Jotunheim. There from ages aforetime had Farbauti dwelt with his wife, Laufey. They alone had the knowledge he needed.
“They guested him in seemly wise in their huge hall, where swart elves served them and wind forever howled around the walls, driving snowdrift and ice-glitter before it. But they did not want to give him his wish, him who had been there at the slaying of Ymir.
“They had two sons, Byleist and Loki.” Of a sudden it struck Hadding as odd that Loker’s name was so like this. He pushed the thought aside and went on. “Byleist was surly and hateful toward the newcomer. Little else have I heard about him. Loki was otherwise. He himself could have been a god, with the same height and handsomeness, his skin fair though hair and eyes were hell black. Lively and unruly, he had long found life wearisome in this flinty steading, this upland of loneliness and unending winter. Eagerly he listened to the tales and staves wherewith guest repaid host, the words raising before him a sight of Asgard shining at the end of the rainbow bridge.
“After a while Loki pleaded with his father and mother to be more forthcoming. He was fair to behold, ready of tongue, bewitching when he chose to be. Moreover, he whispered to them what it might mean to have one of their own kind among the gods.
“Therefore the elder jotuns, warlock and witch, yielded. They told Odin what they knew, that that which he quested after lay on the far side of death. None had ever dared seek yonder.
“He did, The way would be still more hard and strange than those he had already trodden. The thursir had some knowledge of it, gathered through the ages. Loki offered to go along as guide and helper. This Odin must needs agree to, with thanks.
“They bade farewell and went down the mountains, over the glaciers and scree-strewn wastes, across the broad holdings and past the huge garths of giants, to the sea. There Loki called a drow from his barrow and made him ferry them in his half a boat, which sailors see shortly before they drown. On the farther shore grew a wildwood where no one dwelt and nothing roamed but the beings of water, earth, and sky. Yet how manifold and wonderful these are! Nor did anything speak but the soughing in the leaves.
“Onward the wayfarers went, until they came to the Tree itself. Mighty beyond men’s knowing grows this ash, the worlds clustered at its roots, about its bole, high in its boughs. Great ill does it suffer; Nidhogg gnaws below, a hart grazes above, and rot attacks the wood. Along it races the red squirrel Ratatosk, chattering out ill words between the dragon in the depths and the eagle that perches aloft overlooking all things. Yet the Tree lives, for it is life, and it shall abide when the worlds go under.
“Aloft among the limbs went Odin and Loki, over their twisting, swaying lengths, through shadowy, whispery caverns of leaf, until they found the one that they sought.
“There did Odin lay a noose around his neck and leap off the bough. There did Loki, standing below, wound him with his own spear. There did Odin die.
“Nine nights he swung in the wind, offered up to himself, on that tree whose roots go into the unknown. Loki waited. No loaf or horn was there for them, only night and the wind.
“Then did Odin’s staring eye kindle again. He looked down and saw what none else had ever seen. He shrieked aloud. The rope, which had creaked to and fro for so long, broke. He fell. Rising, he took in his hands the graven
