For three days, the young hunter followed an old woman’s directions through the same stretch of pine forest, always returning to the crooked stone where he had first met her. Each time, his supplies seemed lighter, while a black raven watched from above with suspicious amusement.

On the fourth evening, the old woman waited beside the stone, turning his missing silver coin between her fingers. As he approached, exhausted and furious, her stooped body straightened. Grey hair darkened into flowing black, worn rags becoming green silk and gold as curved horns rose from her brow.

Loki smiled, her emerald eyes bright with mischief.

“You should be grateful. Most mortals wander in circles their entire lives without ever realizing it.”

She tossed the stolen coin back to him.