Hammered

The roots of Yggdrasil are on an entirely different plane, and that’s really why no one has tried to climb them. But they’re tethered to the earth, just like Tír na nÓg is, or the Elysian Fields, or Tartarus, or what have you. And, coincidentally, a certain Druid you know is also tethered to the earth, through his tattoos, « I said, holding up my inked right arm.
    Granuaile’s mouth opened in astonishment as the import of my words sank in, quick to follow the implication to its logical conclusion. » So you’re saying you can go anywhere. «
    » Uh-huh, « I confirmed. » But it’s not something I brag about « —I pointed a finger at her— » nor should you, once you’re bound the same way. Plenty of gods are already worried about me because of what happened to Aenghus Óg and Bres. But since I killed them on this plane, and since Aenghus Óg started it, they don’t figure I’ve turned into a deicidal maniac. In their minds, I’m highly skilled in self-defense but not a mortal threat to them, as long as they don’t pick a fight. And they still believe that merely because they’ve never seen a Druid in their territory before, they never will. But if the gods knew I could get to anyone, anywhere, my perceived threat level would go through the roof. «
    » Can’t the gods go anywhere? «
    » Uh-uh, « I said, shaking my head. » Most gods can go only two places: their own domain and earth. That’s why you’ll never see Kali in Olympus, or Ishtar in Abhassara. I haven’t visited even a quarter of the places I could go. Never been to any of the heavens. Went to Nirvana once, but it was kind of boring—don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful plane, but the complete absence of desire meant nobody wanted to talk to me. Mag Mell is truly gorgeous; you’ve gotta go there. And you’ve gotta go to Middle Earth to see the Shire. «
    » Shut up! « She punched me in the arm. » You haven’t been to Middle Earth! «
    » Sure, why not? It’s bound to our world like all the other planes. Elrond is still in Rivendell, because that’s where people think of him being, not the Gray Havens—and I’m telling you right now he looks nothing like Hugo Weaving. I also went to Hades once so I could ask Odysseus what the sirens had to say, and that was a mindblower. Can’t tell you what they said, though. «
    » You’re going to tell me I’m too young again, aren’t you? «
    » No. You simply have to hear it for yourself to properly appreciate it. It involves hasenpfeffer and sea serpents and the end of the world. «
    Granuaile narrowed her eyes at me and said, » Fine, don’t tell me. So what’s your plan for Asgard? «
    » Well, first I have to choose a root to climb, but that’s easy: I’d rather avoid Ratatosk, so I’m going up the one from Jötunheim. Not only does Ratatosk rarely travel it, but it’s a far shorter climb from there than from Niflheim. Now, since you seem to have been reading up on this, tell me what direction I must go to find where the Well of Mimir would be bound to this plane. «
    » East, « Granuaile said immediately. » Jötunheim is always to the east. «
    » That’s right. To the east of Scandinavia. The Well of Mimir is tethered to a sub-arctic lake some distance from the small Russian town of Nadym. That’s where I’m going. «
    » I’m not up-to-date on my small Russian towns. Where exactly is Nadym? «
    » It’s in western Siberia. «
    » All right, you go to this particular lake, then what? «
    » There will be a tree root drinking from the lake. It will not be an ash tree, more of a stunted evergreen, because it’s essentially tundra up there. Once I find this root, I touch it, bind myself to it, pull my center along the tether, and then I’m hugging the root of Yggdrasil on the Norse plane, and the lake will be the Well of Mimir. «
    Granuaile’s eyes shone. » I can’t wait until I can do this. And from there you just climb it, right? Because the root of the World Tree has to be huge. «
    » Yes, that’s the plan. «
    » So how far from the trunk of Yggdrasil is it to Idunn’s place? «
    I shrugged. » Never been there before, so I’m going to have to wing it. I’ve never found any maps of it; you’d think someone would have made an atlas of the planes by now, but noooo. «
    Granuaile frowned. » Do you even know where Idunn is? «
    » Nope, « I said, a rueful smile on my face.
    » It’s going to be tough to steal an apple for Laksha, then. « Yes,