After long and weary flight Loki came to Thrymheim, and was glad
enough to find Thjassa gone to sea and Idun alone in his dreary house.
He changed her instantly into a nut, and taking her thus disguised in
his talons, flew away as fast as his falcon wings could carry him. And
he had need of all his speed, for Thjasse, coming suddenly home and
finding Idun and her precious fruit gone, guessed what had happened,
and, putting on his eagle plumage, flew forth in a mighty rage, with
vengeance in his heart. Like the rushing wings of a tempest, his
mighty pinions beat the air and bore him swiftly onward. From mountain
peak to mountain peak he measured his wide course, almost grazing at
times the murmuring pine forests, and then sweeping high in mid-air
with nothing above but the arching sky, and nothing beneath but the
tossing sea.

At last he sees the falcon far ahead, and now his flight becomes like
the flash of the lightning for swiftness, and like the rushing of
clouds for uproar. The haggard faces of the gods line the walls
of Asgard and watch the race with tremulous eagerness. Youth and
immortality are staked upon the winning of Loki. He is weary enough
and frightened enough, too, as the eagle sweeps on close behind him;
but he makes desperate efforts to widen the distance between them.
Little by little the eagle gains on the falcon. The gods grow white
with fear; they rush off and prepare great fires upon the walls. With
fainting, drooping wing the falcon passes over and drops exhausted
by the wall. In an instant the fires have been lighted, and the great
flames roar to heaven. The eagle sweeps across the fiery line a second
later and falls, maimed and burned to the ground; where a dozen fierce
hands smite the life out of him, and the great giant Thjasse perishes
among his foes.