Mythical Beings of Scandinavia #1: Ingrid and the Trolls by Sidsel Katrine Slej

Author:Sidsel Katrine Slej
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788758836331
Publisher: Tellerup A/S

A Party

At the end of the tunnel, they arrive at a hall full of trolls. Trolls partying!

“Wow!” Ingrid exclaims.

There are tables and tables full of trolls. They eat with their bare hands and drink from the biggest mugs Ingrid has ever seen.

The trolls dance around a big bonfire in the middle of the hall. The musicians are on a stage made of tree roots. They play and sing at full blast.

Now they’re starting a new song.

“Come on!” Kraka says and drags Ingrid onto the dance floor. “I love this one! The Troll Polka!”

“Wait, where’s Dagmar?” Ingrid scans the room.

“Right there,” Kraka says and points.

Ingrid spots Dagmar. She’s laughing and dancing around the bonfire. She seems to be doing just fine.

“Come on. Dance!” Kraka says happily.

Kraka is very strong and swings Ingrid around. She squeals with joy.

“Ingrid!” a voice says. It’s Dagmar. She runs over to Ingrid.

“Dagmar!” Ingrid yells happily and gives her a giant hug.

“This place is so cool!” Dagmar yells jubilantly. Her cheeks are red.

“Totally,” Ingrid says. She looks at Kraka. “But it’s warm in here. I’m so thirsty.”

“No problem,” Kraka answers. She drags Ingrid and Dagmar over to a big stewing pot and uses a ladle to pour its contents into two mugs.

“What’s that?” Ingrid asks and raises an eyebrow.

“Troll-brew,” Kraka says.

Ingrid sniffs it.

It has a lovely scent of blackcurrant. And it tastes like blackcurrant, too!

Ingrid feels a prickling and tickling sensation in her scalp. She touches the top of her head.

Kraka laughs. “Your hair is growing. Troll-brew can make anything grow. Hair, grass … and when a tree gets ill, just a sip of our brew can save it.”

Ingrid realizes that her hair has grown a little longer. “Cool! And so cool that you’re saving sick trees.”

“The forest is our home. It means everything to us. If it’s not in good health, we can’t get food and live. We can only live where nature is allowed to grow wildly. Where the farmer never tills the soil. We’re like the animals …”

“Look!” Dagmar says. She points at a table stocked with food.

“Great!” Ingrid says and runs over there.

Her stomach is growling. She’s very hungry. But then she stops and stares.

This food looks kind of funny.

“Isn’t it just scrumptious?” Kraka asks. “What would you like to try? Worm soup, snail pie, or frog pâté?”

“Um …” Ingrid says. “Actually, I feel like having a bit more of that troll-brew.”

Kraka snatches a barbecue spit hungrily.

“Mice!” Dagmar says.

And indeed she’s right. There are at least 10 mice on the spit. Kraka munches on them one by one.

Suddenly, Ingrid gets startled. The earth trembles. Sand and pebbles trickle down on her from the ceiling.

A loud crash cuts through the air. The sound came from up above. The music stops and all of the trolls stand perfectly still.

A troll gets up from its seat. It is bigger than all of the others and looks very dangerous.

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