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- Herausgeber: David Fickling Books
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
When Trixie's grandma's magical cauldron goes missing, Trixie is thrust into the underworld, and the only friends she can call on are the hardest to keep in line: Loki, the Monkey King and more of the most devious gods on this or any other planet.
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For Tom and Billie, my travel companions across the lands of our imagination.
Contents
A great shadow spread over the ground; at its edge the traveller stopped. The plague of the long road, that great beast, blocked his path. Above a mighty lion’s body, twice as high at the shoulder as a man, was the face of a woman, lips parted into a question.
The Wolff-Rämmer World Mythology Collection, volume 2
Chapter 1
Lost
Saving the world is not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s pretty rubbish, actually.
That’s what Trixie dos Santos told herself as she walked to school, squinting against the low autumn sun as it passed slowly behind the hill that led from her house to the centre of town. A year ago, the pale light would’ve only cast shadows from the rows of terraced houses that lined the street, but this morning the neat silhouettes of pointed roofs and small chimneys were joined by the huge curling shapes of dragons, who floated lazily across the sky, struggling to warm their scales in the cold morning air.
A year ago the Big Blackout had happened. All electricity had disappeared from the world and chaos ensued – cold, hunger, looting and violence spread in the dark and desperation that followed. As scientists and politicians failed to find answers, Trixie had thought 2she knew what was going on. Obsessed with ancient myths since she was a toddler, when her grandmother had told her her first legend, Trixie had been certain that ancient gods had stolen the power from humankind in an attempt to be worshipped again. No one had believed Trixie, of course, but that didn’t stop her. She fled home, enlisted the help of a band of infuriating trickster gods and tried to get the electricity back. Before leaving she had thought the whole thing would be great fun, but the journey was full of terror, danger and pain. Although they did bring the electricity back into the world, Trixie had been badly injured and her pet ferret Iorgi had been killed.
Surely all the kudos from having actually saved the actualworld would make up for some of it, right? Wrong. There was no kudos. Zilch. Zero. Nada. Although Trixie’s parents believed her, no one else thought that a young girl could’ve been capable of doing something that whole governments hadn’t. To make everything worse, when Trixie brought electricity back she also, inadvertently, released magic into the world. When trolls, unicorns and all manner of fantastic creatures began appearing everywhere, most people just assumed that the end of the blackout and the sudden appearance of magic were natural, or, up to that point, supernatural phenomena, events that had happened outside any human control. 3In a universe that had been suddenly filled with inexplicable magic, the disappearance of the power had become just another baffling moment that couldn’t really be understood, just accepted.
Trixie found that hard to take. She couldn’t even convince her closest friends at school about what she had done, and it drove her mad. Now everyone accepted fairies, banshees and yetis were real, but they still thought her adventure was just a story. It was sounfair.
She stopped before crossing the road, noticing some movement between the bushes and trees in the middle of a roundabout. A group of tiny men wearing pointy felt hats were digging the soil, humming a tune together as they worked. One of them looked up and waved hello to Trixie, beaming. She made an effort to smile, barely moving the ends of her mouth up, and waved back limply.
Anyone else would’ve cheered up at the sight of the jolly gnomes, but Trixie became even gloomier. Getting back from her quest, she had thought that life would go back to normal, but it hadn’t. It couldn’t. There was no normal any more, at least not how it had been until a year ago. Everyone was still trying to find their place in this new reality, filled with all the wonder and terror that magic had brought back when it returned. For every gentle dryad or elegant winged horse that grazed in a 4meadow, there were sly yokai or ravenous vampires prowling in the dark. All the safety people living in towns and cities were used to had disappeared, a mixture of worry and wonder left in its place.
A few friendly gnomes doing some gardening were lovely to have around, Trixie thought, but she couldn’t forget the extra food she now had to carry in her backpack to distract the huge troll who lived under the bridge that went over the railway track between her house and school.
A bump on her shoulder made Trixie look up, worried. A short girl had stopped next to her, her face nearly hidden by a fringe that swept out of her hoodie. ‘Are you going to cross or is the plan to spend the rest of the day staring at your trainers?’ she asked.
‘My trainers are very interesting, I’ll have you know,’ Trixie replied, managing a smile.
‘Er … not more interesting than those little gardening men, or that weird bird cat thing perched on top of that tree,’ the other girl said, pointing up.
‘That’s a sphinx, Laura,’ said Trixie, rolling her eyes.
‘No, it’s not,’ the girl replied. ‘Sphinxes are huge, have heads like Egyptian pharaohs and will gobble you up if you don’t answer their riddles.’
‘That’s just that statue, there are loads of different types of sphinx,’ said Trixie. ‘They come in all shapes and 5sizes, like people, dogs or my mum’s homemade nuggets.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Laura, ‘but it’s still not asking us anything. Maybe it’s just a really weird pigeon or something …’
‘Let’s see what happens when we try to cross the road,’ said Trixie.
The girls waited for a few cars to pass and stepped onto the crossing. When they were halfway across, the sphinx flew down from the tree where it had been perching and landed in front of them. It was as high as Trixie’s knee: two large grey wings framed a long cat’s body, on top of which stood the head of a slightly bored middle-aged woman.
‘Answer me or I’ll devour you!’ it spat.
‘Er, excuse me?’ said Trixie.
‘Answer me or I’ll devour you,’ the sphinx repeated, with a little less conviction this time.
‘Well, that’s not a very nice way to start a conversation, is it?’ Trixie said. ‘All we are trying to do is get to school, and I’m sure youhave things to be getting on with as well, so let’s all be on our way. Good day.’
‘Wait! That’s not how it works,’ hissed the sphinx, baring a row of sharp fangs at the girls. ‘You have to solve my riddle. If you can’t, I get to eat you.’
‘Do you want to?’ asked Trixie.
‘Want to what?’ said the sphinx, baffled. 6
‘Eat us,’ Trixie replied.
The sphinx blinked at Trixie very slowly. ‘Hm … not really,’ she said. ‘It’s easy to find food around here, and neither of you looks like you’d taste too nice, no offence intended.’
‘None taken,’ said Laura.
‘It’s just …’ the sphinx continued ‘… that’s the way it works. I guard the path and eat unwary travellers.’
‘Well, no one is making you do it,’ said Trixie. ‘You can go stand somewhere else and even noteat anyone, if that’s what you fancy.’
The sphinx cocked her head to one side and stared at the two girls.
‘Mind, blown …’ whispered Laura to Trixie.
After a while the sphinx straightened her head, narrowing her eyes. ‘Are you sure about that?’ she asked.
‘One hundred per cent,’ replied Trixie.
‘Oh … well … in that case, good day to both of you. I should probably go and find something else to do with my time,’ said the sphinx.
‘See if they have any traffic warden jobs going,’ Trixie shouted as the sphinx flew away. ‘You get to give people tickets, it annoys them a lot more than just being eaten.’
Laura laughed and wrapped her arms around Trixie as they walked on. ‘That was brilliant!’ She said. ‘How come you were not scared of that weird thing?!? It was 7almost as big as a fox.’
8‘It was just a really small sphinx,’ said Trixie. ‘Nothing to write home about.’
‘Only you!’ said Laura. ‘Sometimes I almost believe your crazy story about tricking all sorts of gods and getting the power back …’
‘Yeah, that’s much harder to believe than being harassed by a sphinx on the road to school, Laura,’ said Trixie, all the cheer she had felt after getting rid of the sphinx emptying away.
‘Don’t be like that,’ her friend said, shoving Trixie gently. ‘We’re late for registration anyway, so you’ll have a real reason to be grumpy soon. Mr Porter and his clipboard of doom will most definitely be waiting for us at the front gate.’
‘That’d be another good job for that sphinx,’ said Trixie.
‘Anyone else doing Mr Porter’s job would be an improvement,’ said Laura ‘even a stubby-winged cat-lady with sharp teeth.’
‘I heard that!’ came a voice from around the gate, sending Trixie and her friend sprinting into the school yard.
9
…sometimesitissaidthatthesebeingswillleavethe hollows of trees and bushes where they sleep, and ventureoutontotheforestglades,leadingwanderersastrayintothickspinneyswherenosunshines.
The Wolff-Rämmer World Mythology Collection, volume 10
Chapter 2
Wood
Trixie had always found school difficult, but since returning from her travels, being in the classroom felt even harder than usual. Time seemed to pass very slowly, most of her lessons bored her and the pranks that previously had kept her amused now seemed dull when compared to all she had done. What was the fun in putting a whoopee cushion on Miss Morris’s seat when you have tricked Loki, god of mischief, into working for you? (It was still a littlebit fun, obviously. Whoopee cushions would never stop being hilarious, but it wasn’t enough.)
The boredom she could deal with, but ignoring the teasing was tougher. Her story had spread, and from the minute Trixie had walked back into school a bunch of kids kept making fun of her, going on and on every time they saw her:
‘Hey, dos Santos, spoken to any gods today?’
‘Much traffic on the commute down from the sky?’ 12
‘Can you make it rain at PE later?’
Trixie told herself that these were mean, unhappy kids and that their opinion didn’t matter, but the constant goading drove her mad with anger. After weeks of shouting at them to stop, she had given up trying to argue, and simply walked away if she saw the bullies approaching. She had thought it might calm things down, but it didn’t help much.
At least her friends were as funny and kind as ever, and they stood up for her whenever they could, but that only made Trixie feel worse. There were days when she just slipped away after registration and left the school altogether. She knew it was wrong, and that her parents would be disappointed if they found out, whenthey found out, but that felt easier to deal with than the nonstop taunting and name-calling.
Escaping school, Trixie would wander to the quiet places around town, her mobile phone in hand, trying to find and catalogue all the new magical creatures that had appeared since the blackout. The world had suddenly been filled with many extraordinary beings; while some of them were well known from ancient tales, like the gnomes and the sphinx she had met that morning, others were completely unknown. These were the ones she was most excited about.
I’dratherspendmydaywithahungrychimaerathan13listeningtothoseteasingidiots,Trixie thought as she slipped through a gap in the school fence. Walking back over the bridge, she was relieved to find that the enormous troll that lived under it was sleeping after stuffing himself with sweets and crisps stolen from the children on their school run. She squeezed down a passage between the rows of narrow houses and crept into the wood that spread from the edge of her own neighbourhood into the countryside beyond. Her parents had warned Trixie not to go into the forest alone. Her father explained that, whilst before the Big Blackout the scariest thing she might’ve encountered was a grumpy badger, now there might be manticores or wyrms behind every tree or boulder, waiting to pounce and gobble up any unsuspecting kid that might wander past them. Trixie did agree, the woods weredangerous for unsuspecting kids, but she wasn’t one. She was an extremely suspecting (not a real word, she knew) kid, and had survived much worse than a manticore. Besides, in these past few months, most of the creatures she had seen were reasonably friendly; only a couple had tried to eat her, and she had escaped easily.
These solitary moments in the wood, treading softly in the moss that grew between the yews and oaks, were when Trixie felt the least unhappy. As she enjoyed the quiet, light broke between the trees and streamed sideways through branches still heavy with leaves, colouring 14everything around her in oranges and reds. Trixie stopped to look at a tiny goldcrest as it puffed itself up against the cold, feathers shaking gently as its small body shivered. Her foot landed on a stick, making a noise, which startled the bird away. Trixie followed its wavering flight deeper into the wood, until something on the corner of her vision made her stop. Something big.
She flattened herself against the trunk of an old oak tree, held her breath, and tried to stand very still. A huge shape was moving towards her from the centre of the wood, making absolutely no sound as it approached. For the first time since she had begun to visit the forest, Trixie felt afraid, her mouth dry as she slowly picked up her mobile, preparing to take a picture of whatever might be approaching. As her thumb pressed against the screen the phone unlocked and very loud music started playing; it was a video she had been watching before school started! Trixie closed it fast, but the blast of noise had sent birds scattering. Looking back up, she saw that the vast shadow had also disappeared.
Trixie let out a long sigh, disappointed to have missed out on a new creature, but relieved that it was gone. She had never seen anything that big around the wood before. Deciding that today might be a good day to explore the other side of the forest, Trixie turned around and stepped away from the old oak. She had only walked 15a few metres when she noticed the forest had become oddly quiet. All the small noises that were always there – rustling leaves, birds, squirrels and countless other little creatures – were completely gone, replaced by a low, constant hum. Her left side felt bitterly cold.
Trixie turned her head slowly towards the source of the cold. Instead of wide tree trunks, a great mass of darkness loomed over her shoulder, bitter frost radiating from its edges, beyond which everything was pitch-black. Making an effort not to scream, Trixie faced the shadow patch. She noticed it was waving gently from side to side. For a moment Trixie stood there, waiting for the strange creature to attack, but after a while nothing happened, and she relaxed a little.
‘Hi there,’ she said, waving at the darkness. ‘My name is Trixie, what’s yours?’
This close to the dark, her voice sounded flat and distant, as if spoken from deep inside a well.
The blackness seemed to ripple and bubble, its buzzing becoming deeper. A thick, inky-black tendril grew from it, becoming larger as it moved towards Trixie. Some thinner tendrils sprouted from that, growing until the appendage looked like a soft, blurry arm and hand. It waved at Trixie, mimicking her movement from moments ago.
‘Hi again!’ said Trixie, waving back. ‘I think you can 16understand me! Let’s play a game.’ She showed the darkness a thumbs up, saying, ‘This means “yes” …’ then a thumbs down ‘… and this means “no”. Maybe we can try and have a chat like this. Do you understand me?’
For a while the blackness struggled to close its stubby fingers, but eventually managed it, giving Trixie the thumbs up.
‘Great!’ she said, opening an audio recording app on her phone. ‘Let’s start with the most important question of all. Are you going to try and eat me?’
Thumbs down.
‘Amazing! Do you have a name?’
Thumbs down.
‘OK, let’s try to find you one. “The Darkness”,’ said Trixie, waving her hands in the air in a mock-spooky motion. ‘Hmmm … that’s not too good. How about “Night Spot”? Too bland … Got it! “Gloom Bloom”, because you’re gloomy and spread all over the place, get it?’
After a pause, the creature gave Trixie a thumbs up.
‘Glad you like it!’ she replied. ‘Now, let’s get into the thick of it. I want to hear about your habits, lifespan, diet, habitat, relationship to other natural and supernatural creatures and many other seemingly pointless but ultimately vital details. I’ll be recording everything on this phone, and I’m happy to bring my edited notes 17back for your approval at a convenient time. Ready to start?’
18The Gloom Bloom seemed to hesitate, but eventually gave Trixie a thumbs up, this time slightly less ebullient than before. Beaming, she sat down on the floor and began to ask questions. Reducing her complex questionnaire to ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions wasn’t easy, but little by little she began to understand the creature a bit more. After a few hours she had learned that the Gloom Bloom wasn’t a single being, but a huge colony of microscopic shadow sprites that lived as a cloud. Keeping to dark and cool places, travelling on moonless nights, they could cover great distances almost undetected. Wary of any kind of warmth, they floated through the higher latitudes, where cold weather and sharp winds fed the group’s magic. As winter grew, more colonies like these made their way from the edges of the arctic circle to the borders of town and cities, curious to see how humans lived. They hid in shadows, so most of the time no one noticed them.
After a long time interviewing the Gloom Bloom, Trixie noticed that the low sun wasn’t shining through the forest branches any more. The clock on her phone said 7.38 p.m. She had lost track of time! Getting up, her legs stiff and sore from sitting for so long on the cold ground, she waved at the cloud of minuscule creatures 19‘Sorry! Gotta go! I hadn’t realized it was so late, my parents will kill me when I get home!’ She sprinted out of the wood, yelling: ‘Lovely to meet you all! Hope to see you again soon!’
Trixie ran up the hill that led to her house, jumping over the gnomes she had seen that morning as they made their way back to the forest after work. Despite the cold night air, she got to her front door panting and sweaty. Pausing to catch her breath, she adjusted her backpack and combed her hair with her hands before going inside.
‘Sorry I’m late! Laura was struggling with RE so I stayed behind to help her and we lost …’ Trixie stopped mid-sentence. From the door she could see across the small living room to the kitchen, where her mother was sitting at the table, crying softly. Her father held her hand, looking at Trixie.
‘I’m reallysorry,’ Trixie said, ‘I know I promised to let you guys know if I planned to be home late. I swear it’ll never happen again.’
Her father’s face was full of worry. ‘Come in darling, we have to tell you something.’
She crossed the living room and stepped under the light in the kitchen. Her mother looked up, eyes red from crying. Trixie’s stomach felt hollow. ‘Is it school?’ she said. ‘I can explain.’
‘It’s not school, Trixie,’ said her dad. ‘Sit down.’ 20
Trixie did. Her mother hugged her, hard, and began sniffling at her shoulder. ‘What’s going on, Dad?’ Trixie asked.
‘It’s your grandmother,’ her dad said. ‘We got a call a little while ago. She’s … She died, Trixie. I’m sorry.’
Tears were trickling from Trixie’s eyes before she could understand what her father had told her. Her mother pulled her closer, and they stayed like that until Trixie couldn’t tell if the sobs she heard were hers or her mum’s.
21
Inthosetribes,womenofthesightwouldcallthefateofbattlesandothergreatendeavours.Theytrodthepathbetweentheworldoffleshandthatofthespiritswhichweavethethreadsofdestinyandchance.
The Wolff-Rämmer World Mythology Collection, volume 10
Chapter 3
Cauldron
When Trixie’s mother stopped crying, she told her what had happened. Trixie’s grandma was old, almost eighty-seven, and lived alone on a farm in Norway. Despite her age, she was very active and spoke to her daughter and granddaughter almost every day on the phone. Her death was not something anyone had been prepared for.
Trixie’s mum was an only child, so they had to get to Norway as soon as possible to look after the funeral and all manner of legal things. As her dad made dinner and her mum tried to find flights, Trixie went up to her room to pack. She stopped at the top of the landing, looking at the closed door where a handmade sign that read, ‘Vampires, you are NOT invited!’ hung. It had been almost half a year since her pet ferret, Iorgi, had died, but she still missed him every day. Coming home from school was the toughest time; even now she expected his small, furry body to jump on her as soon as she walked 24into her bedroom. Every time Trixie pushed the door open, the silence that followed made a tight ball grow in the middle of her chest. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath and went inside, throwing a few clothes and books inside a backpack before walking back downstairs again.
Her mother had wanted to leave straight away, but being out at night had become dangerous after the beginning of the Supernatural Age (the name scientists had coined for the time since magic had returned to the world). Vampires, werewolves, kelpies, will-o-the-wisps and all sorts of harmful creatures preyed on humans after the sun set. Research into ancient charms, the use of silver, iron and certain plants to ward off attacks, was beginning to yield results, as was the use of bright lights and loud sirens in busy city centres, but Trixie’s small town, nestled in a valley surrounded by thick woods, was rife with all sorts of wild nocturnal dangers.
No one slept that night. As soon as the sun began to rise Trixie’s parents loaded the car and the three began their long drive to the airport. As they travelled, Trixie watched the low sun colour the peaks of distant hills a deep red, the high grass rippling under the wind like an impossible sea. Closer to the road, a herd of unicorns galloped through the dry fields, raising clouds of dust that swirled and eddied across the sky. The steady flashing 25of passing lampposts sent Trixie to sleep, and she was woken up by her father hours later, as they arrived at the airport. Trixie struggled, half-awake and sandy-eyed, towards the plane that would take them to Norway.
Despite the hollow sadness Trixie felt about her grandmother’s death, the flight turned out to be very interesting, almost fun. She hadn’t been on a plane since before her adventures, so wasn’t prepared for all the extraordinary magical fauna that travelled beside them in the sky. They had to wait for a flock of griffins to fly over before they could take off, and as the plane finally got the permission to lift off, Trixie saw a sparkling cloud of pixies hovering by the window, grinning at the passengers and making the air crackle with multi-coloured sparkles. Halfway through the journey, the captain announced that a long-dragon could be seen to the plane’s right. Its long, golden body glided through the clouds, scales shimmering in the sunlight. Trixie gasped as the gentle beast flew closer to the aeroplane, marvelling at the dragon’s liquid eyes and its flowing whiskers. She had thought that it was the most exciting creature that might appear during the trip, but the arrival in Norway was even more extraordinary. As they made their way down into Oslo airport, a couple of vast hills shifted at the brink of a fjord. They began to unfold and rise, stone and grass taking the rough shapes of enormous people. 26
‘Rock giants!’ Trixie yelled, nudging her father and pointing at the two huge creatures. As the plane passed over their heads, the giants looked up and waved, their movements so slow they seemed to be underwater.
After landing, they hired a car and drove north for most of the day. The light was dimming as they turned off the motorway into a small road that passed through a tiny village, the last inhabited place on the way to Trixie’s grandmother’s farm. Leaving the cluster of small houses behind, the car made its way slowly over a country lane which meandered between rocky outcrops and fields already covered by late Autumn snow. The track narrowed as the land rose towards the summit of a flat hill, topped by a large wooden house, its red windows bright against dark timber walls under a tall, pointed roof. Trixie had spent many summers with her grandma here, and she couldn’t bear the thought that the old woman wouldn’t be inside waiting for them with cups of steaming hot chocolate, homemade biscuits and a joke about her dad’s bad driving (it was always the same joke).
AnotherdoorIdon’twanttoopen, Trixie thought to herself, seeing the same hurt in her mother’s reluctant shuffle from the car.
They walked towards the front door, her dad fumbling with the unfamiliar set of keys, but stopped when a loud crash rang from the inside. 27
‘Wait here, everyone,’ Trixie’s dad said. They stopped and waited, but no more noise came. Trying to be quiet, her father approached the door and gently turned the key.
‘Woof!Woof!Woof!Woof!’ came a loud barking, sending Trixie’s dad stumbling backwards. Past the open door, Trixie could see a furry dog, coiled and angry, howling at a black cat, which stood, hissing, on top of the living-room sofa.
‘It’s just Bragi!’ Trixie yelled, pointing at the old elkhound that had been her grandmother’s companion for as long as Trixie could remember.
Distraught by the cat’s presence, Bragi hadn’t seemed to notice Trixie and her parents walking into the house. Before they could shut the door, the cat leaped from the sofa and sprang towards it. As Trixie turned to look at the cat, a strand of moonlight shone into its eyes, which were a deep, rich blue unlike anything Trixie had ever seen before. The cat seemed to stare at her for a moment, then sped through the door into the snow outside as a frantic Bragi scrambled after it.
The dog stopped by the front door, still barking at the departed cat. Trixie crouched down and put her arms around his warm neck. ‘There, there, Bragi,’ she whispered. ‘We’re here now, everything is going to be OK …’ 28
After a while the hound began to calm down, turning his wet nose towards Trixie and burying his face in her chest with a snort.
‘That’s weird,’ said Trixie’s dad, closing the front door. ‘Your grandmother never kept a cat, just dogs.’
‘Mum hated cats,’ Trixie’s mother said. ‘Said they were like tiny ungrateful tigers that would eat you at the first chance.’
‘Harsh …’ said Trixie, as Bragi left her lap and slunk towards the huge stone fireplace that stood in the centre of the room.
A sudden heaviness passed over Trixie’s head as she stood up. She stared at the front door, eyes unfocused, trying to think about what her mother had just said. It was no use, she couldn’t remember what they had been talking about, or even why Bragi was barking in the first place.
That’sodd, Trixie thought. I’mprettysurewewerechattingaboutsomethingimportant…butmaybenot.I’mprobablyjusttiredfromnotsleeping,that’sall.
Her vision cleared as a whimper drew her attention. Looking across the room, Trixie saw that the old hound was circling a pile of ashes scattered over the slate floor.
‘I bet he’s cold,’ said Trixie’s dad. ‘This fire’s been out for a couple of days.’
They began to place logs in the fireplace, but Trixie’s 29mum stopped suddenly. ‘Thisis even weirder than the cat,’ she said, pointing at the space above the pile of wood. ‘The copper cauldron my mother always kept here is missing.’
Whatcat?thought Trixie, but she brushed the notion away and stared at the empty fireplace. ‘Maybe grandma took it out to cook something?’ she said.
‘No, she wouldn’t have,’ said her mother. ‘In the eighteen years I lived in this house she never moved it, or even let anyone touch it. My mother was very superstitious. She believed there was some funny business going on with that cauldron.’
‘What do you mean, “funny business”?’ asked Trixie’s dad.
‘It’s nonsense,’ replied her mum, ‘just an old family legend.’
The wood started crackling as the fire grew, smoke rising upwards through the blackened chimney in the roof.
‘Can you tell it to us, please, Mum?’ asked Trixie.
‘OK, but it’s silly,’ said her mum. ‘Nothing exciting compared to the gods and monsters you have been hanging out with.’
They all got settled around the fire. Her mum sat in an old armchair and began to tell the story.
‘My mother has always lived in this house. When 30she was very young she took a small chick from the henhouse and decided to raise it as a pet. Her father, mygrandfather, wouldn’t let her, saying that the farm’s animals were for eating, not keeping in the house, but my mother was very stubborn, even as a child, and kept the chick hidden until it grew into a little cockerel. After a while, my grandparents agreed to let her keep the rooster, and even warmed to having him around. One day, my grandfather was coming home from selling his produce in the village when the little cockerel ran under the wheel of his cart. The poor thing’s neck snapped, it was killed on the spot. My mother was devastated, she cradled the little dead rooster, crying, and wouldn’t let anyone near him. My grandparents thought their daughter had gone crazy when she ran into the barn and started throwing everything around until she found something in the chest where they kept old pots. It was the small copper cauldron. My mother brought it into the kitchen and put the little rooster into it. According to her, after just a few moments the cockerel started to twitch and shake and … it came back to life. Jumping out of the pot he began to strut and peck around the house as he always had done. His neck was still completely twisted, bent at an angle, but he lived a long life and died of old age, many years later.’
‘That’s awesome!’ said Trixie. ‘But … magic hadn’t 31returned to the world by then, how did the rooster come back to life?’
‘It’s just a story, Trixie,’ said her mum. ‘My mother swore it was true, but no one else in the family really believed her. They found the whole thing charming and told everyone in the village about it until it became some sort of folk tale around here, but not a single person really thought your grandmother had raised a chicken from the dead.’
‘Shebelieved it,’ said Trixie, raising an eyebrow.
‘She never made much of it, actually. Just told us to never move the cauldron or use it for cooking.’
Trixie’s mother’s gaze moved from the fireplace to the empty rocking chair next to it, where an embroidery hoop lay, needle and thread still hanging from the unfinished pattern. She covered her face and started to cry, quietly.
‘I think your mum needs a rest. This hasn’t been an easy day,’ said Trixie’s dad. ‘Can you please give Bragi some food before settling down? He seems hungry.’
Having left the front of the fireplace, the elkhound was now wildly scratching the kitchen door.
‘Calm down, boy,’ said Trixie, patting his head. ‘I’ll get you something to eat in a second.’
