Read Online West of the Moon by Katherine Langrish - Free Book Online

dust. Sneezing, it cleared the dishes from the table and hid the bones under Uncle Baldur’s pillow. It polished the plates with one of Uncle Grim’s shirts, and shook the stale crusts and crumbs into his best boots. The pieces of bacon rind it dropped in front of Loki, who ate them suspiciously. Finally it put three wooden spoons and the frying pan tidily away under Uncle Grim’s mattress.
    â€œWell done,” said Peer, laughing. “Do you always tidy up like that? Won’t they be furious?”
    â€œWhat can they do?” asked the Nis. “I doesn’t want much, Peer Ulfsson. Only a bit of butter in my groute. Or a drop of honey to keep me sweet.” Loki had fallen asleep. The Nis began sneaking up on him with the obvious intention of pulling his tail.
    â€œDon’t do that,” Peer said. “Tell me about my uncles. I’m sure you know all about them. Where have they gone tonight?”
    â€œTo the Stonemeadow. Ssh!” The Nis laid a long finger to its lips and tiptoed closer to Loki.
    â€œOh, leave him alone! The Stonemeadow? Where’s that?”
    The Nis gave up. “High up on Troll Fell!” it snapped.
    â€œI thought they’d gone drinking. What are they doing there?”
    The Nis looked at him out of the corner of one eye.
    â€œTalking to trolls? Please tell me,” Peer begged. “I heard them say something about trolls, and taking me to the – to the Gaffer, the King of the Trolls. Is that right? And something about a wedding? Do you know anything? Can you help me?”
    The Nis ran into the corner where the big scales hung, and jumped into one of the pans, which hardly moved. It sat there bouncing gently and would not look round.
    Peer saw he had gone about things the wrong way.
    â€œNis,” he called quietly, “I think you’re very clever.”
    The Nis sniffed.
    â€œI know a girl who lives on a farm near here. She has lots of butter. Shall I ask her to give me a big lump all for you?”
    The Nis twitched and the scales swayed.
    â€œPlease be my friend, Nis, and I’ll be yours.” Peer stopped as his voice shook. He so badly wanted a friend.
    The Nis relented. It sat cross-legged in the pan and leaned on the chains to make the scales swing. “What does you want to know, Peer Ulfsson?”
    Peer didn’t know where to start. “Well – what’s this wedding?”
    â€œOh!” The Nis got very excited. “A very big wedding indeed! At midwinter, the Gaffer, the old King of Troll Fell, will marry his son to – guess who?”
    â€œI can’t guess,” said Peer.
    â€œGuess! Guess!” the Nis insisted.
    â€œI can’t,” Peer laughed. “Tell me!”
    The Nis paused, and said in a hushed voice, “To the King of the Dovrefell’s daughter!” It sat back.
    It meant something to Peer after all. Even he had heard of the trolls of the Dovrefell, the wild mountain range to the north. “That’s an important match?” he suggested.
    The Nis nodded. “Everyone is going, Peer Ulfsson. They say the bride is very beautiful. There will be such a feast!” It wriggled with delight and cracked its knuckles.
    â€œAre you going?”
    The Nis’s face fell. “I doesn’t know,” it admitted. “Food and drink, as much as you can hold, music and dancing, and the hill raised up on red pillars – but they hasn’t invited poor Nithing yet.”
    â€œOh, there’s plenty of time, if it’s not till midwinter. But what has the troll wedding got to do with Uncle Baldur and Uncle Grim? What are they up to on Troll Fell in the middle of the night?”
    â€œMiddle of the night is daytime for trolls,” the Nis pointed out scornfully. “If Grimssons go knocking on the troll gate at noon, what will they hear? Snores.”
    â€œI see that. But what do they want with the trolls at all?”
    The Nis was