"Well," said Kevan MacGreene finally, "it's a very touching and romantic story and I assure you that you have my deepest sympathy--but I'm afraid I fail to see how it concerns our present problem." "Do you now?" asked Alviss. He gazed up from beneath his bushy red eyebrows. "All you have to do, my lad, is go to Asgard and bring Thrud here to me. If you do that, I'll not make war against the mortals. Fail and I'll strike immediately." "Oh, come now," said Kevan. "You can't seriously expect me to go in and kidnap the girl out from under the nose of her father and I don't know how many other characters. It's not fair." "Its fair enough and you'll get no more from me," said Alviss. "Be off with you--for if you're not back here by the end of the month, I'll start my war." "The end of the month? Mortal time or your own?" "Mine, of course." "How much time does that give me?" asked Kevan. The dwarf scratched his head, lost in deep thought. Then he began chanting to himself: "Junius, Aprilis, Septemq, Novemq, tricenos "Unum plus reliqui, Februs tenet octo vicenos "At si bissextus fuerit superadditur unus--" He rolled his eyes toward the roof and seemed to be counting. "That'll give you until tomorrow morning," he finally announced. "But that's impossible," exclaimed Kevan. "Not impossible if you stretch your legs instead of standing here stretching your tongue," said Alviss. "Your only problem with time is getting from here to Yggdrasil and then from there to here. The time you spend in Asgard will not count since time there does not exist in relation to our time." "Yggdrasil?" repeated Kevan. "Where is that?" "That's part of your problem," said the dwarf. He turned back and began stirring his cauldron and it was obvious that he intended to talk no more. Kevan MacGreene turned and went back through the long, winding tunnel. III When he was once more outside, across from the palace of the four kings, he suddenly remembered something that the head of Troubleshooters, Inc. had told him. He looked and saw that the small metal flower was still in his lapel. He put his mouth close to it and shouted. "Brian Shanachie!" "Well," said a voice which seemed to come out of the air directly over his head, "I was wondering if I were ever going to hear from you." "What do you mean?" Kevan demanded indignantly. "I haven't been here more than an hour." "Time, my dear boy, is relative," the voice said airily. "How did you make out with Alviss?" Kevan quickly related all that had happened. "What shall I do?" he asked when he'd finished. "Obviously I can't go to--wherever it is--and just steal the girl." There was a heavy sigh out of the air above his head. "It is a rather difficult task," admitted the voice, "for one of your inexperience. Unfortunately, there are no other agents unengaged at the moment, so I guess there's nothing to do but go get the girl."