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forefinger and lifted it out.
    “Bingo!” said Greg, plucking it from her grasp. “Let’s go put it on him.”
    They trooped downstairs, where Lewis was still flat on his back on the sofa, his limbs frozen in a running motion.
    “He would have his hands in a really awkward position,” Greg complained, tilting Lewis’ motionless form towards him to get a better angle.
    “I hope this works,” said Susie.
    Greg forced the ring onto the third finger of Lewis’ right hand then stepped back. He and Susie watched anxiously, waiting for something to happen.
    “I thought there’d be a flash of light or something,” said Greg.
    “Give it time,” said Susie. “Maybe it takes a minute or two to take effect – you know, like aspirin.”
    Just then Lewis made a choking sound and rolled off the sofa onto the floor. Seeing Susie and Greg, he croaked, “Big trouble – Loki’s back!”
    “We sort of guessed that,” said Greg, helping him up.
    “Have you seen him?” asked Susie.
    Lewis nodded. “Down at the harbour. I was running to the house to get my ring. I had a notion it might protect me.”
    “We had the same idea,” said Susie, “so we found it and stuck it on your finger. How do you feel?”
    “A bit dizzy,” said Lewis, “but I think I’m okay. What are you two doing here? I thought you went to Dundee.”
    “The bus got stopped by a forest,” said Greg.
    “And a wild boar the size of a Mini,” Susie added.
    Suddenly all three of their rings began to glow brightly and the TV switched itself on. The screen was a mass of static and it gave off a distorted noise that might or might not be a voice.
    “The TV’s messed up like everything else,” said Greg, looking round for the remote control. “We might as well switch it off.”
    “No, wait,” said Susie. “Look!”
    The static cleared and in its place was the face of a man wearing a gold helmet. He had a long white beard and a black patch over his right eye.
    “It’s just some old guy with a beard and an eyepatch,” Greg snorted. “It must be a pirate film.”
    “Don’t you recognise him?” said Lewis. “That’s Odin, king of the gods.”

7. F RIGHT AT THE M USEUM
    Odin raised a hand in greeting. His voice was broken and distorted and was not in sync with the movement of his lips, but they were able to make out a few words amidst the interference.
    “Brzzzt… Loki… urrrzzzzz… staff… zzzzzeee… ount… dagger… urrzzzzz… bleeeeee… protect… oozzeeee… Asgard… rrzzzzz…”
    Static flooded the screen once more and a piercing electronic whine filled the air. Flashing zigzags grew brighter as the noise grew louder. The TV began to shake violently.
    “Take cover!” Greg yelled. All three of them dived behind the sofa.
    The next instant the television screen exploded all over the carpet, leaving an empty frame behind.
    Greg poked his head up and groaned, “We’ve only had that set a few weeks.”
    “The alien energy must have overloaded it,” said Susie as they emerged from cover.
    “The rings have stopped glowing,” Lewis observed.
    “Now we know why Odin gave them to us,” said Susie.“It was so he could contact us in a crisis.”
    “Not that he told us much,” grumbled Greg. “It was mostly buzzing and crackling.”
    Susie turned to Lewis. “Maybe you should tell us what happened at the harbour.”
    “Let’s do it in the kitchen while I whip up some sandwiches,” Greg suggested.
    “Ace idea!” said Susie. “I’m starved.”
    Once they were seated round the kitchen table with cans of cola and a pile of ham and cheese sandwiches, Lewis gave them a brief account of Loki’s arrival by longship, his wolfling guards, and how he summoned the mist. Greg and Susie told him about their interrupted bus journey and all the strange things they had experienced since.
    “So St Andrews is going weird because it’s been teleported to the land of Vanaheim, the land of the Norse gods,” said Susie, polishing off her