I had seen the little gold cylinder shining in the hand of the Jotun king. From Utgar came a bellow of brute triumph, bestial exultation, as his eyes found the shimmering door at the end of the gallery.
"It is the place!" he shouted. "There's the door of our lord's prison."
Hel, the dark Jotun princess, uttered a low laugh.
"Said I not that I could bring you to the place by ways which would avoid the Alfings?" she asked in a throaty, sinisterly rich voice. "For I myself was guided by the thought message of our lord Loki, who instructed us how to get the key from Asgard—"
Her supple figure stiffened, and her narrowed eyes roved around the torch-lit cavern.
"I hear our lord's mind speaking to me now," she murmured. "He warns that there is danger lurking in this place. Enemies have been here and are still here!"
"Frey, we must strike now," I whispered urgently. "Fell the torch-bearers, while I strike down Utgar and grab the key. In the darkness, we may be able to escape."
But as we tensed to spring out on the Jotuns, the princess Hel uttered a sharp cry.
"Our enemies are there!" She pointed straight at the rocks behind which we crouched. "Our lord warns—"
Instantly Frey and I leaped out, with our swords flashing in the torchlight. But the split-second warning of Hel had destroyed our advantage of surprise. Just as swiftly, Utgar and his warriors had ripped out their swords. They met us with raised blades as we charged them.