To save his true love, a teenage boy teams up with a group of mythical creatures to stop an evil goddess bent on destroying the world in this adventure-filled fantasy novel. Concluding the tale of teen adventurer Kyle Dunlop as chronicled in Draupner's Curse and Giants of Anglesey, Yggdrasil: The World Tree pits Kyle against a wicked goddess and her quest to destroy the World Tree. In a subterranean world beneath our own, the serpent Nidhogg is accidentally set free and begins to gnaw at the roots of the World Tree. Soon the damage it inflicts becomes apparent, and it is only a matter of time before the tree-which sustains all manner of life-is totally destroyed. Helreginn, the goddess of the dead, sees this as an opportunity to expand her kingdom. To ensure the serpent doesn't slip away before the tree's destruction is complete, she orders her evil minions to kidnap several fairy maidens to use as sacrifices to appease the ravenous beast. Kyle Dunlop, along with a group of warrior elves and goblins, a dwarf, and a dragon, sets out for distant Eljudnir to rescue the helpless fairies. But as the rescue party faces one life-threatening challenge after another, Kyle wonders whether he'll ever again see his true love, a captured fairy named Idunn-and whether this world he's come to love will be thrown into evil darkness forever.

Yggdrasil

The World TreeBy C. E. Smith

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 C.E. Smith
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-6124-9

Chapter One

The World Tree

It was a beautiful evening. But then it always was in a place that never saw the light of day, a place deep in the bowels of the earth that was home to goblins and elves, fairies and dwarves, giants and trolls, and a host of other mythical creatures. Until recently, no one on the surface of the planet knew it existed. But all that changed a couple of summers ago when three teenagers and a ten-year-old girl stumbled upon a well-established, highly diverse subterranean world. As Idunn, a beautiful fairy maiden with creamy skin, sparkling blue eyes and hair as lustrous and golden as the sun, added an armful of broken branches to a pile almost as high as herself, she began to think about one of those teens. His name was Kyle, and to Idunn he was the most wonderful person in the world – not that she would ever tell him that, of course. She was so busy daydreaming about him that she failed to watch where she was going and, as she turned to collect more branches, she nearly bumped into her younger sister, Fridr.

If not for the beauty mark on Fridr's left cheek it would have been impossible to tell the sisters apart; they were alike in every way.

"Watch where you're going," cautioned Fridr as she adroitly stepped around Idunn and tossed her own load of twigs on the pile.

"I'm sorry, Fridr," replied a contrite Idunn. "I guess I wasn't thinking."

"Oh, you were thinking," Fridr said with certainty. "It's what ... or should I say ... who you were thinking about that's the problem." She brushed some dirt and pieces of dried-up bark off her cornflower blue satin gown.

The velvety wings on Idunn's exposed back gave a nervous twitch.

"I can't help it," said Idunn. "I try not to think about him, but it's hopeless. You understand, don't you?"

Fridr gazed at Idunn's lovesick face and said, "Sure I do. It's just that ... well ... we have more important things to think about now."

"Yeah, like removing the rest of those branches before it gets too dark to see what we're doing," said a third fairy maiden as she turned sideways and stepped between the two sisters, careful not to catch their clothes on one of the many jagged branches she was carrying.

Idunn and Fridr waited for the third fairy maiden to dump her load. Then the three of them went and joined a dozen others near the base of an immense green ash tree. As they all worked together to remove a mass of dead and diseased branches that had been clipped from the ash tree earlier in the day, two pairs of older, watchful eyes looked on.

"I'm worried, Eir," said Isahool, the younger of the two. "The tree isn't as healthy as it should be."

She was tall and elegant, beautiful in an abundant way, with only a trace of silver in her flaxen blond hair and some barely visible crow's feet that radiated outwards from the corners of her clear blue eyes. On the other hand, Eir was shorter and slightly stooped with age, with a pale face, deeply lined and framed by shoulder-length hair as white as freshly fallen snow.

"It always seems that way at this time of the year," Eir said in response. "That's why we go through this ritual, spending the time to remove any dead or diseased growth. Before you know it, fresh buds will begin to break out everywhere and the tree will look as vibrant and healthy as ever." The old fairy cackled. "Too bad someone can't do the same thing to my old decrepit body."

"I'm not so sure," said Isahool gloomily. "There's something wrong." To Eir's questioning look she added, "I don't know what it is, but there's definitely something wrong."

"Have it your way, dear," Eir said tiredly. "But don't let your dour mood spoil everyone else's fun."

Isahool smiled. "You're right, Eir. I should be more cheerful; if not for my sake, then at least for the girls. It's their special moment and they deserve to enjoy every minute of it."

Having made her point, Eir left Isahool alone and joined the maidens who had just finished collecting and adding the last of the branches to the pile. As the old one spoke in a hushed voice and the maidens cheered enthusiastically, Isahool turned her attention to the ash tree once again.

It was no ordinary ash tree she regarded. In fact, it is so special it even has a name and, at one time, there wasn't a person alive who didn't know it, who didn't utter it regularly. Yggdrasil – for that was the name given to it so very long ago – is the World Tree; an eternal green ash whose branches stretch out over the entire world, sustaining all manner of life. Once the gods held court under the tree, while a giant eagle perched on the topmost bough and the serpent Nidhogg gnawed on its roots. And each day the three Norns – the demi-goddesses of destiny – poured water from the Well of Fate over its branches to keep it green and healthy.

But the gods are gone now and so are the Norns, so it is up to the fairies to take care of the World Tree; to nourish it and, once a year, remove any signs of decay. Isahool actively participated in the ritual when she was younger, and still has fond memories of fumbling about amongst its limbs, going higher and higher until it seemed she was on top of the world. There were hardly any dead or diseased branches then, and the leaves were a vibrant green; but not anymore. As she looked closer at the towering tree she noticed that many of the leaves were brown at the edges or faded and curled up. Some had even turned brown altogether and fallen to the ground. It was almost as if something was sucking the life out of them. But what it was she couldn't say. And that's what troubled the fairy queen the most.

Before Isahool could give the tree another thought she was distracted by a high-pitched scream. However, there was really nothing to worry about. It was just some of the maidens having a bit of fun splashing each other with water. The sight of them running around, chasing each other with buckets full of water taken from the very same well the Norns had fetched water from brought back more fond memories for Isahool. She smiled as she recalled doing the same thing, and remembered how disappointed she had been when she finally got to the ash tree – soaking wet, of course – and suddenly realized that her bucket was empty and that she would have to go back to the well and wait in line to refill it. It was always a special moment for her and the others; especially after all the hard work they had done stripping the massive tree of dead limbs. And after the tree had been nourished from the well, someone would put a torch to the scrap heap and, while it burned, everyone would gather around the inferno and listen to the elders tell stories about a time when Odin sat upon his throne in Asgard. Her favourite tale was the one in which Odin sacrificed an eye for the rare privilege of drinking from the Well of Wisdom, thus gaining its knowledge. Soon, she thought, I will be the one telling the stories, and when that moment comes, I'll look forward to passing on that tale.

Once again Isahool's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the maidens screaming. Only this time their voices struck a different chord. It wasn't the same playful shrieking that she had grown accustomed to hearing and had managed to filter out. It was more genuine now, as if there was something more serious happening to cause them to make such a racket. Then she saw the terror on their faces and she knew their screams were real.

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