Hammered

and withdrew a strange instrument from a pack there. It looked like the lower jaw of some animal, teeth still prominently attached, and wound tightly around these teeth were fine yellow strings.
    » This is my kantele , « he explained. » Made from the jawbone of a giant pike and the hair of a fine blond woman. « I was stunned speechless. What does one say to that sort of thing? » Who was the blond woman? « or » Why didn’t you pick a brunette? «
    Väinämöinen began to sing, and I flipped on my faerie specs to appreciate what he was doing in the magical spectrum. The normal bindings present in the air around us began to haze or fuzz over; he was cutting us off from the normal scheme of things, creating a pocket dimension. When he finished, his mustache raised slightly at the corners and I understood that he was trying to smile. » There. Has everyone eaten? We have something cooking, « the wizard said, gesturing to a cast-iron pot hanging over the flames.
    Gunnar indicated he’d eat anything, and we all moved around the fire. We stood until Perun and Leif secured a few more boulders for us to sit on; they may have competed to find the largest, heaviest ones nearby.
    » It is a humble meal. A couple of hares, together with carrots and onions. We have no potatoes, « Zhang Guo Lao said apologetically. » But it has been cooking since before sundown. We have added salt and pepper. It should be seasoned and tender now. «
    I smiled. » You guys seriously made a stew? « One of the things I’ve always enjoyed about twentieth-century fantasy novels is how bloody fast the heroes whip up a pot of stew from scratch over a campfire. To me that’s more magical than slaying dragons, because it takes a good four hours to make a passable stew—often longer over a fire in winter—yet those folks in the books always seem to manage it in less than an hour, without explanation. Though it was still an hour past sundown in Prague, it was approaching midnight in Nadym, and the stew should indeed be ready to eat.
    Väinämöinen and Zhang Guo Lao’s packs were well stocked with cutlery and plates. Both were accustomed to spending nights in the open. Everybody chowed down—except for Leif. He drank a cup of my blood. Perun approved of the cooking but seemed wistful about the small portions.
    » Is good. But next time, eat bear, « he said.
    No one seemed anxious to do the dishes; it was as if they had each become Hemingway Code Heroes (with all the concomitant chauvinism that implied), and they’d rather die than do » women’s work « in front of all the other men. So I volunteered for the duty as a sop to their egos, and accepted their relieved thanks as I took everything down to the lake.
    » Honored Druid, « Zhang Guo Lao said, » I have heard few details from Mr. Helgarson beyond an assurance that travel to Asgard is possible. Please explain to us how this is so. «
    » I will shift us all there. Physically this is not an issue. Mentally it’s a gigantic issue. I was able to shift my two companions here across the globe, « and I gestured to Leif and Gunnar, » because I’ve now been acquainted with them for more than ten years. I know how they think. I know what gives them joy and I also know how to push their buttons. They are friends.
    » But you are new acquaintances, « I said, gesturing at the three sitting across from me. » I am unfamiliar with the essence of who you are. When I must hold Zhang Guo Lao and Väinämöinen and Perun in my mind, what are they to me but names? You are more than a name. You are experience and wisdom, wit and folly, hatred and sorrow, strength and weakness. You are motivated by different forces; you have different goals in mind. All this I must hold in my mind, so that when we shift to the Norse plane, I do not leave parts of you here. «
    » So we must tell you all of these things? « Väinämöinen asked.
    » Not only me. You must tell us all. If we are to survive, we must each see into the windows of our comrades’ houses. We will open our windows by telling stories. «
    » Stories? What kind? « Perun wondered.
    » All kinds. In America they call it male bonding, and that is an accurate term for what we must accomplish here. We need to be bound, mentally and spiritually, if I am to take us all physically to the Norse plane. So we will remain here until I am confident we can leave, and we will tell stories. I suggest that your first tale concern what you all have in