Текст книги "Loki's Wolves"

Автор книги: Kelley L. Armstrong

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

THREE

FEN

“DUES”

Fen spent the next day expecting the sheriff to come grab him and the evening hiding in the damp of the park looking for a chance to get the shield. Even though Thorsen apparently hadn’t specifically ratted him out, he obviously had said something because there were patrols around the longship all night. Fen had tried to get the job done, but he’d failed.

And he wasn’t much looking forward to telling Kris, but when he trudged home from the park and saw the rusty pickup truck, he knew he had no choice. His cousin was home from wherever he had been the past few days.

Fen didn’t ask too many questions about where Kris went. Lesson number one in the Brekke family: what you don’t know, you can’t spill. It wasn’t a matter of trust, really, just common sense. Brekkes looked out for themselves first. They might do a good turn for someone—or not—but they weren’t foolish enough to go sharing things that could land them in hot water.

He crossed the pitted gravel drive and stood in the doorway to the garage.

“Fen? That you?” The voice called out from under the shell of an old car. Kris had been working on it for the better part of the year. Music blared from an old stereo. Like everything in Kris’ place, it hadn’t been in good condition for years.

“Yeah.”

“Grab me a beer.” From under the car, one greasy hand pointed in the general direction of the rust-covered refrigerator in the back corner of the garage.

Fen dropped his bag on the floor. He shoved it to the side with the toe of his boot and went over to the fridge. The door creaked, and the old metal handle clacked as he opened it. He pulled out a can of beer and popped the top. He didn’t understand why anyone drank it. Kris gave him some one day, but it was gross. Beer tasted like how he suspected dog urine would taste, but everyone in his family drank the stuff.

“I heard that top pop, boy. It better be full when you hand it to me,” Kris said.

Fen walked over and held the can out. “It is.”

“Good pup.” Kris slid out from under the car. He lay stretched on the creeper, grime, oil, and grease covering him from boots to bandanna. He was in his twenties, but now that Fen was in middle school, one of the aunts had decided Kris was old enough to keep Fen this year. It was a lot better than the year he’d spent with Cousin Mandy. She was older than dirt and had some crazy ideas about how many chores he should have. Kris, on the other hand, was young enough to remember hating chores. He gave Fen things to do, but they weren’t exactly chores most of the time.

Kris sat up, grabbed the can, and took a long drink. He wiped his mouth with a grubby hand. “So did you get it?”

“No.”

Kris frowned. “It was a simple task, boy. Go steal a shield. Easy stuff.”

“Thorsen… Sheriff Thorsen’s son Matt was there yesterday, and today there were patrols all day.” Fen squatted down so he was eye to eye with Kris.

“The last thing I need is Mayor Thorsen or the sheriff to come around here asking questions. You need to stay clear of that kid.”

“I know, and I did. Last night was the only time Laurie could be there, though, and I need her to be a part of the job,” Fen added. “What was I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to get the job done. You better figure that out fast, boy.” Kris finished his beer and crumpled the can. “If you don’t pay your dues to the wulfenkind, there won’t be anything anyone can do to help you.”

“I heard you the first three times you told me,” Fen snapped.

“Don’t be smart.” Kris stood and walked back to get another beer. “Bet there aren’t as many patrols during the day.”

“I have school,” Fen started.

Kris opened the second beer. “You think the wulfenkindare going to care that you had school?”

“I could try again tonight,” Fen suggested. “But what about Laurie?”

Kris nodded. “She didhelp, so that term is met. Go get it on your own, and if you can’t get it tonight, you miss school tomorrow.”

“Right,” Fen said.

“If you don’t get the job done, Laurie will have to meet them,” Kris threatened.

Years of protecting his cousin made his answer obvious. He said, “I’ll get it. Promise.”

Fen heard the alarm go off in the middle of the night, far too few hours after he’d set it. It was one of those horrible clocks that ticked, and the alarm was a little hammer that smashed back and forth between two bells. Like Thorsen’s little Hammer trick.Fen threw the alarm at the wall. Like I could throw him.Even as he thought it, though, Fen scowled. The sad truth was that Fen couldn’t toss Matt at a wall. Thorsens were unnaturally strong, and even though every Brekke had a few extra skills of their own, they also knew not to tangle with Thorsens. Well, not everyBrekke knew it. Laurie was still clueless. Fen had only known what was up for a few years, and he’d done his best to play dumb.

Like the Thorsens think we all are.

After Kris snarled about the alarm—and the thunkof the alarm hitting the wall—Fen figured he’d better make as little noise as possible. He carried his boots to the front door. When he stepped outside, he held the screen door rather than let it slap closed. A rush of relief hit him when he turned to face the darkness. He could pretend it was just because he’d avoided Kris’ temper, but the truth was that Fen always felt a bit of stress vanish when he stepped outside. Wolves, even those in human skin, weren’t meant to be inside. This time of night was the best. Most people were in their beds in their homes, and the world was his.

He sat on the stoop, shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed the sack and crowbar Kris had left out for him, and started off toward Sarek Park. If Fen didn’t take care of what he owed the Raiders, there would be consequences. The Raiders– wulfenkindpacks—lived a life of thievery and scavenging, roaming from camp to camp, barely a minute ahead of the law. They could join packs once they shifted, but from birth they owed dues. Usually their parents paid. If not, the pack held a running tally of dues. Fen, like every Brekke, had to either pay dues to the local pack of his age group, join it, or—once he was old enough—go lone-wolf. For now, he’d opted to pay dues—his andLaurie’s. He wasn’t going to offer obedience to anyone simply because they were the best fighter.

Laurie didn’t even know a lot about the ways things worked. She didn’t know what he was or what she might be—because she didn’t know about their ancestor Loki. So she had no idea that Fen was sometimes a wolf. Unless Laurie changed, they didn’t need to tell her.

Her dad, Fen’s uncle Stig, didn’t think she’d change. Her mother wasn’t wulfenkind, so she might turn out to be just a regular person. If she didn’t change, she didn’t need to know. Fen wished he could tell her, wished she would be a wolf, too… almost as much as he hoped, for her sake, that she wouldn’t be one. For now, he agreed to pay her dues to the wulfenkindduring the transition window. Usually wulfenkindparents did that, but Uncle Stig was a lone wolf, so Fen had taken on the responsibility. It’s what he’d have done if Laurie were reallyhis sister, not just his cousin. It meant double payments, but he could handle it. Once they knew if she’d change, she’d take over her own payments, join a pack, or go lone-wolf like Uncle Stig. Laurie was even less likely than Fen to join, so if she changed, Fen figured he’d either help her with payments or they’d go lone-wolf together. The problem with being a lone wolf was that you couldn’t stay in any one territory too long. He couldn’t imagine going lone-wolf without her, and he certainly wasn’t joining the Raiders.

For now, that left him with dues, and for reasons he didn’t want to know, the Raiders said the old shield was payment enough for both of them. The only weird thing was that the wolf in charge of their age pack, Skull, had said Laurie had to be involved at least a little—and she had been. Now Fen just had to finish the job.

His feet hurt from too many trips between Kris’ trailer and the park, but there were rules about running around Blackwell as a wolf, so he went as he was. Of course, even if he was allowed to shift to wolf, it would cause other problems. What would I do? Bite it free?He smiled a little at that image, and he ran the rest of the way to Sarek Park.

This late– or early, really—the patrol cars weren’t passing by as often. He took the crowbar Kris had given him and applied it to the side of the ship with as much force as he could. The shield was already loose. It had to be that specific one, the third shield from the front with the weird designs on it. Viking symbols, Fen guessed. He didn’t know why it had to be that shield; he didn’t really care. He just put his strength into prying it free.

Fifteen minutes and several splinters later, Fen was starting to really worry. “Come on; come on.” He gave another good tug, and the final bolt popped free. The shield dropped to the ground with a loud crash.

Fen jumped over the side of the longship, landing in a crouch with one hand flat on the ground, and grabbed the shield.

As he did so, a big gray wolf padded into the park. He was as large as a full-grown wolf, but even before he shook off his fur and stood on two feet, Fen knew who it was.

Skull grinned at him and said, “Not bad.”

Skull was only a few years older than Fen, but he was a lot scarier than any of the guys at school. He had scars on his arms, and right now, he also had a red scrape on his cheek that kept company with a number of purple and yellow bruises. He wasn’t skinny, but he didn’t have any fat on him. Skull was nothing but muscle, scars, and attitude.

“Where’s Laurie?”

“Not here.” Fen shoved the shield into the bag he’d brought with him and held it out to Skull. “She helped the first time I tried to get it, but she doesn’t need to meet you.”

Skull didn’t take the bag Fen held out. “You can carry it.”

He turned his back and walked away without seeing if Fen had obeyed. Of course, they both knew that he could follow or fight Skull—and that fighting would either result in being hurt pretty bad or being in charge of this pack of wulfenkind.Winning a fight with the lead wolf meant replacing him. As much as Fen disliked Skull, he didn’t know that he could beat the older wolf, and even if he could, he didn’t want it badly enough to risk getting saddled with the responsibility of a pack.

They walked at least five miles, so on top of the lack of sleep, Fen was dead on his feet by the time they reached the camp. Small groups of wulfenkindlooked up with interest.

Skull’s twin sister, Hattie, walked over and held out a chunk of some sort of meat on a stick, probably elk from the smell. “Want a bite?” She took a bite out of it, chewed, and swallowed. “It’s safe.”

He accepted it with a nod. He wasn’t as constantly ravenous as the older wulfenkindgot, because he didn’t change forms as much yet, but he was starting to notice a change.

Skull nodded at Hattie, and she put her fingers to her lips and whistled. Once everyone looked at her, she signaled different people and then different directions. “Check the perimeter.”

Of the almost two dozen boys and girls there, half—in two groups of six—left. Fen watched with appreciation. They were a well-organized, obedient pack. The camp was impressive, too. Gear was in small piles, firewood was stacked tidily, and sleeping bags were rolled and stowed. Camp could break and depart in moments.

“You could stay with us,” Hattie offered. Her attention had both flattered and frightened him for years. She was one of the strongest wulfenkindhe’d met, but she was also weird and kind of mean. When they were ten, he’d watched her kill several squirrels by biting their throats. If she’d been in wolf form at the time, he might not have found it so gross. She hadn’t been, though.

“Here.” He pulled the shield out of the sack and tossed it to her. He didn’t expect it to hit her, but he might have hoped a little. Unlike fighting Skull, there were no downsides to fighting Hattie.

She caught the shield in midair. “You brought me a present?”

Skull laughed.

Fen shifted his feet and said, “No. It’s the dues for me andLaurie.”

Skull clamped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, but he told his sister, “Leave Fen alone. You’re scaring him.”

Although he was trying not to get into too much trouble with Skull, Fen couldn’t ignore the insult. “I’m not sc—”

“You belong with us, Fen,” Skull interrupted. “You know something big is coming. We need it to come. We’ll make it come.”

Hattie laid the shield down on a piece of animal hide that one of the younger wolves had dragged over to her. She squatted beside it and looked over her shoulder at Fen. “This wood was from the bog. This will be used in the final fight.”

“The what?”

“Ragnarök,” Skull said reverently.

“Ragnarök?” Fen repeated. He shook his head. It was one thing to remember the old stories, to know where they came from, but it was another to think that the end of the world was coming.

“The prophecy is true,” Skull said. “The final battle will change everything. It will be the sons—”

“And daughters,” Hattie interjected with a growl.

Skull continued, without even glancing at his sister, “The children of Loki will rise up; the monsters will wake. We’ll rule the world, and everyone will tithe to us. We’ll reign over the world like kings.”

And as much as Fen thought they were a little crazy before, right then he knew that they were far beyond simply crazy. The whole there-used-to-be-gods bit was true, but the gods were stupid. They were all dead. If the gods were dead, how could there be a final battle? It didn’t make any sense. Of course, that didn’t mean Fen felt like getting into it with Skull and Hattie. He tried to sound a little less disdainful than he felt as he said, “Right. Gods and monsters will fight, and a new world will be born. You’ll be in charge. Sure thing.”

Hattie stood and instantly arranged her body for a fight. “You doubt it?”

Ignoring her, Fen tossed the stick with the rest of the meat toward the fire and pointed at the shield. “I stole the shield. I carried it to your camp. We’re square. My dues and Laurie’s are paid. Whatever you do with it now is your business.”

“We just need one more thing,” Hattie started.

Fen looked from Skull to Hattie and back again. It was one thing not to start trouble with them; it was another thing to be their errand boy. “I paid,” Fen said. “Those are the rules. I paid, and now I’m done.”

Skull punched him.

Fen staggered. The whole side of his face hurt, and he knew he’d have a black eye for school. Great. Just great.He stepped backward.

Hattie walked over to stand beside Skull. Behind her, Fen could see other members of the pack watching. There would be no help here. They followed orders. They protected their pack and worked toward the goals of the pack.

“The final fight is coming. That changes things,” Hattie added.

The temper Fen was trying to keep in check flared. “Rules are rules, so—”

“ Youcan help, or we can go to Laurie, and shecan help,” Skull said. “The monsters will come, and they will fight alongside our champion. We need to be ready.”

There was no way Fen was letting them near Laurie, especially after the things they’d just said. He lowered his gaze as meekly as he could. “What do you want?”

“A Thorsen. The youngest one,” Skull said.

Every Brekke knew there were things the Raiders did, things that were better not asked about. That didn’t mean that Fen liked the idea of helping them get at anyone he knew—even someone he disliked. Turning a person over to them was wrong.

“Why?” Fen asked, hoping that they would say something that didn’t involve hurting Thorsen.

Hattie sighed. “Because he’s theirchampion in the final fight.”

“Right,” Fen drawled. “You need to stop a kid from fighting in Ragnarök. What are you going to do, really?”

Skull and Hattie exchanged a look, and then Skull stepped forward and slung an arm around Fen. “The boss said to deliver the kid. We aren’t dumb enough to ask what for, but”—he paused and grinned—“if you want to ask, we can deliver you and Laurie, too.”

“No,” Fen said carefully. “I’ll get him.”

Skull squeezed Fen’s shoulder tighter, painfully so, and said, “Good pup.”

FOUR

MATT

“PREMONITION”

Matt lay in bed. It’d been a day since he’d unleashed Thor’s Hammer. Fen hadn’t said anything to anyone. Laurie hadn’t, either. Matt wanted to believe that meant they were going to forget it, but he couldn’t help thinking they were only waiting for the right moment. Then they’d tell everyone how he’d used something like a flash-bang and knocked Fen right off his feet, and Matt’s parents—and every other Thorsen in town—would know exactly what had happened. Matt had broken the rules: he’d used Thor’s Hammer.

Thor’s Hammer was the only magical power the Thorsens still had. Sure, they were usually bigger than other people, and stronger, too, but that wasn’t magic. The old books said there used to be other powers, like control over weather, but that was long gone. They were left with the Hammer, which for everyone else was like an invisible punch that they could throw whenever they wanted. Only Matt got the special-effects package—the flash and the bang. And only Matt wasn’t able to control when it went off.

His grandfather had tried giving him different amulets, but it didn’t fix anything. His parents were right: it wasn’t the amulet messing up—it was him. The power was in the descendants of Thor themselves—the amulet was just a… Matt struggled for the word his family used. Conduit. That was it. The necklace was a conduit that allowed the power to work. Which should mean the solution was easy: take off the necklace. Except a Thorsen couldn’t do that for long before he got sick. Matt could remove his in the boxing ring, luckily, but that was it.

He should just tell his parents what happened. He’d started to last night, then chickened out and told Dad he’d seen some kids messing around at the longship, and Dad said he’d have his men patrol for a while. He’d lectured Matt, too, about taking more responsibility for their town, how he should have done something about it, not come home and tattled to his parents. That stung, especially when Matt haddone something. He already felt bad about it. He should have been able to handle Fen without setting off the Hammer.

Don’t think about that. Focus on something else. Think of your science fair project.

Oh, yeah. That helped. Let’s focus on anotherexample of how badly you can mess up, Matty.

He’d totally blown his science project, and he needed to do a new one before tomorrow night’s fair. He’d overcomplicated things, as usual. He’d been trying extra hard because his family always won the eighth-grade science fair. First his dad. Then his brothers, Jake and Josh. If it were any other subject, Matt would be fine. But, as usual, if his family was good at it, he wasn’t.

Maybe if he slept on it. He got some of his best ideas at night, when he could relax and stop worrying.

When he finally fell asleep, he did dream about his science project… all the ways he could mess it up again and embarrass his family. He kept dreaming about building the best project ever, only to accidentally unleash Thor’s Hammer and blow it to smithereens in front of the entire school. Then his brain seemed to get tired of that and plunked him down in the middle of a field.

It was daytime. He was standing there, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t alone; he could sense someone behind him. But he didn’t turn to see who it was. He was busy staring at the sun—and at the wolf chasing it.

The wolf was a huge, black shadow, all gleaming red eyes and glistening fangs. The sun was a glowing chariot pulled by three white horses.

“It’s Sköll and Sól,” Matt murmured.

“Huh?” said a girl’s voice behind him. He felt like he should know the voice, and in the dream, he seemed to, but his sleeping self couldn’t place it.

“A Norse myth. The sun circles the earth because she’s trying to escape the wolf Sköll. And the moon—” He squinted against the bright sun. Behind Sól’s chariot, he could make out a paler version, chased by another shadow wolf. “There he is. Behind her. Máni, chased by Hati.”

“Looks like the wolves are catching up.”

Matt shook his head. “That won’t happen until Ragnarök.”

“Ragnarök?”

“The end of the world. It’s supposed to begin when Loki kills Balder. Then Sköll catches Sól, and Hati catches Máni, and the world is plunged into endless night and winter. But that’s not going to—”

The wolves leaped and closed the gap. The chariot riders whipped their horses, and they pulled ahead.

Matt exhaled. “Okay, it’s just—”

The wolves lunged again. They caught the chariots in their powerful teeth and wrenched. The chariots toppled backward, horses flying. The sun and moon tumbled out. The wolves dove after them, opened their jaws, and…

Darkness.

Matt bolted up in bed, his heart thudding so hard he swore he could hear it.

Ragnarök.

The end of the world.

He blinked hard. Then he shook his head. Yes, his family did believe in Ragnarök, and the Seer was always looking for signs, but they’d been looking since before the old gods had died. Because the gods had been… well, stupid, they’d all managed to get themselves killed long ago. According to the Seer, that meant that when Ragnarök did come, some of the descendants would have to stand in for the original gods in the final battle. They’d be filled with the gods’ powers and would fight the monsters as it had been foretold. Luckily, Ragnarök wasn’t coming in his lifetime. What wascoming was the science fair. Not exactly apocalyptic, but it sure felt like it.

He rubbed his face and yawned. Every time he closed his eyes, though, he saw the wolves chasing the sun and the moon.

He shook his head. That wasn’t going to help his science…

Or could it?

Matt smiled, stretched out again, and fell asleep.

“Rakfisk!” Josh yelled, thumping open Matt’s door. “Hey, Mini-Matt. Don’t you smell that? Mom’s making rakfisk.”

Matt lifted his head, inhaling in spite of himself. He groaned and clenched his teeth to keep from barfing into the pillow. Nothing smells as bad as raw fish. Unless it’s raw fish that’s been left to rot for months, then served on toast. For breakfast.

Jake grabbed Josh’s shoulder. “Don’t wake the baby. More for us.”

Josh was seventeen and Jake a year younger, but they were both so big that Josh practically filled the doorway by himself, and all Matt could see of Jake was a shock of red hair over his brother’s shoulder.

They took off, thudding down the hall. Matt lifted his head, nose plugged. He tried breathing through his mouth, but that didn’t help, because then he could tastethe rakfisk. If there was one thing that totally ruined Norse holidays, it was the food. Ancient Viking traditions, his mom would say. Traditions the Vikings should have kept to themselves, he thought.

He found his mom in the kitchen, working at the counter while his brothers sat at the table and devoured plates of rakfisk on toast. He opened the fridge and found two milk containers. The first was filled with a thin, bluish-white liquid. Whey—the stuff that’s left over after you curdle milk for cheese. He groaned and shoved it back in.

“Whey’s full of protein, Matty,” his mother said. “You won’t get any bigger drinking pop.”

“Oh, he won’t get any bigger no matter what he drinks,” Jake said. “Or no matter how many weights he lifts. Josh and I were both bigger than Matt at his age.”

Josh shrugged. “Not by much. There’s still time. Maybe if he’d join the football team…”

“I like boxing.”

His mother tried not to make a face. She didn’t like boxing. Or wrestling, which Matt also did, although he wasn’t as good at it. She said she worried he’d get himself hurt, but he knew she just didn’t get it. Football was the only real sport in the Thorsen house. Or in all of Blackwell.

“Oh,” she said. “Your granddad asked about you last night. You haven’t had any more…” She gestured to his amulet. “Outbursts?”

Matt struggled to keep his expression blank. “No, not since the last time.” Which, technically, was true. Just not the “last time” she knew about.

His mom exhaled in relief. “Good,” she said. “Now, let me get you some rakfisk for breakfast.”

Science fair night. There were about a hundred people milling about the gym, pretending to be interested in the projects.

Hunter stood beside Matt’s table. “I don’t get it.”

“That’s ’cause you’re too lazy to read.” Cody waved at the explanation Matt had posted. “Which isn’t a surprise, since you’re too lazy to even do your own project. Did you think no one would notice you borrowed your brother’s?”

Hunter’s project was supposed to be a volcano, but after three years in storage, the “lava” kept running out through the holes mice had chewed.

Matt heard a snort. He glanced over to see Fen, who sported a fresh black eye. He was there with Laurie, keeping his head ducked down like he was trying to hide his shiner.

As Laurie approached Matt’s table, Fen scowled. Laurie just gave him a look, and then asked Matt, “What’s it supposed to be?”

Matt started to explain, but then noticed his granddad and two of the Thorsen Elders heading over, so he switched to his grown-up lecture.

“It’s from a Norse myth,” he said. “The wolves, Sköll and Hati, chase the sun, Sól, and the moon, Máni.”

He waved to the board, where shadow wolves were supposed to be chasing two glowing balls on a modified railroad track. It hadn’t quite worked, though, and they weren’t actually moving. Biting off more than he could chew, his dad had said. Still, it looked okay. Granddad and the others had stopped now for a better look.

“In the story, they finally do catch them.” Matt leaned over to push the wolves around the track, and they picked up speed until they moved over the balls, and the toy globe in the middle went dark. “That marks the beginning of Ragnarök. The battle of the gods. From a scientific point of view, we can see this as an explanation for eclipses. Many cultures had a myth to explain why the sun would disappear and how to get it back.”