Текст книги "Loki's Wolves"

Автор книги: Kelley L. Armstrong

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

SIX

LAURIE

“OWEN”

At the parade, Laurie had seen that the shield was missing, and she’d known that Fen must have gone back for it. She wasn’t sure if that’s where he got the black eye, and he wouldn’t tell her what had happened. All she got out of him was that he was “handling it,” but he looked like whatever it was had handled him.

Her temper wasn’t often horrible, but as she waded through the carnival games and crowds of people standing in lines to buy food or tickets to the rides, she was shaking mad. Even the smells of popcorn, funnel cake, and cotton candy didn’t distract her. Admittedly, she still kept looking at all the games of chance that were set up to convince people to spend all their money on games with pretty lame prizes. She won at those. She had a weird luck with carnival games and had toted home enough stuffed bunnies and creepy dolls over the past few years that her mother had taken a trunkful to the kids at the hospital. Maybe if Laurie wasn’t so mad she could stop and play just one, but she wasmad. If Fen got caught with the shield, he would put them both at risk. If her mom weren’t so adamant that Fen wasn’t welcome, or if her dad was around, or if Matt weren’t the sheriff’s kid, or if… well, if Fen weren’t being so stupid, things would be better, but none of the ifs were truths. The worst possibility was that Matt told the sheriff and she and Fen were both arrested. The best case was that Fen would get in trouble—and she’d lose him. So, even the best case was horrible.

Unless Matt doesn’t tell.

Even before this, Laurie had needed to talk to Fen about the weird fish dream, but she hadn’t been able to get him alone since the other night at the longship. Even at the science fair, he wasn’t available. He’d actually invited his friend Hunter to join them. She wasn’t going to be ignored any longer. She’d talk to him whether he wanted to hear it or not. Maybe if they turned the shield in, Matt would keep their secret.

As she walked around the festival, she kept a lookout for Fen. She stopped at the Ferris wheel, the Tilt-A-Whirl, and the teacup ride. No Fen. She wandered through the petting-zoo area. No Fen.

“Where are you?” she muttered. She’d call him, but he didn’t have a cell phone.

“Hello.” A boy a few years older than her stepped up beside her. “I wondered where you were.”

“What?” She paused.

He looked like he belonged… well, anywhere but Blackwell. He wore a pair of black-and-blue tennis shoes, black trousers that hung low, a blue shirt that looked silky, and slightly longish hair that was dyed blue. Odder still, the boy had on jewelry that was almost girly: a pair of tiny black bird earrings in one ear and a twisted metal ring on his finger.

“Are you looking for me yet?” he asked.

“No.” She scowled. “I don’t know you. Why would I look for you?”

“I’m Odin.”

“Uh-huh. Odin.” She did laugh then. Anyone who grew up in Blackwell knew the basics of their mythology. Between school, parents, plays, a well-stocked myth section in the library, and some pretty terrible videos in every grade, it was impossible to completely avoid myth in Blackwell. That didn’t mean it was real.

“So, Odin, I guess there’s another play this year?” She hadn’t picked up any activities listing for the fair, but even if she had, she wasn’t so much up for watching another play on some battle or other. Some people in Blackwell took their Scandinavian heritage far too seriously.

“Would you like to play a game?” Odin looked around for a moment and then pointed to a booth where some sort of gambling game was set up. “You’d be good at that one.”

It was supposed to be a game of luck, but she’d been banned from it the year before when she won every time. The man running it insisted she was cheating somehow; she hadn’t been. This year, she was staying out of trouble—no games of luck for her. This boy obviously had heard about the ugly scene last year when she’d had to give up every dollar she’d won andthe money she’d paid to play.

“Very funny,” she said.

Odin gave her a weird little smile, but didn’t reply. He just stood there waiting. It seemed odd, but she didn’t have the time or interest to waste on some blue-haired boy. She shook her head and turned away.

“You’re leaving already?” he asked.

“I need to find someone.”

“Not me?” He sounded sad.

She looked back at him. “No.”

“Oh. I must be early then.” The boy calling himself Odin frowned. “They won’t like me, unfortunately.”

Laurie stepped a little farther away from him. He was starting to make her nervous, and she wasn’t used to talking to boys without Fen showing up to snarl at them anyhow. Her whole family was overprotective in one way or another, and talking to Odin made her think maybe they were right. “I think I’m going to go now. Good luck with your play or whatever.”

“It’s real, you know,” Odin said. “That’s why you’re good at those games. I know. You don’t cheat, but you win.”

At that, Laurie didn’t know what to say, so she gave up. “I’m not allowed to play gambling games. My cousin will probably be a jerk to you if he sees you talking to me, and even if he doesn’t, I’m not looking for you, so please just go away.”

He studied her for a moment. “I expected you to be less of a rule follower, but I guess we’re still becoming.”

“Becoming what? What does that even mean?” She looked around for Fen—or even Hunter at this point. All she could see was the crush of people milling around the sawdust-covered paths of the festival. Blackwell itself wasn’t that big, but the festival always drew in people from outside the area. It made sense, she supposed. The fair might celebrate Scandinavian heritage, but it still had the trappings of a lot of festivals. There were wooden booths where volunteers manned games of chance and skill; there were all kinds of good foods, and usually there were bands and fireworks and whatever else the committee felt would add to the overall excitement and appeal.

As Laurie looked, she saw a few of the odd acrobats who were running through the festival, doing tricks that made her think of the extreme sports games Fen liked to watch. They didn’t have bikes or skateboards, but they did handstands, weird half jumps, and crazy flips as they ran.

“Becoming more than we are,” Odin said.

“Okaaaay, Odin, I’m not in your play or whatever, so I’m going to go now,” she said.

“You can call me Owen, if you’d feel better,” he offered. “I’d rather you call me my true name, but you’re not ready. Maybe next time I see you.”

She stared at him and said, “I don’t need to call you Owen or Odin or whatever other name you want to use. I won’t be talking to you. Now orlater. Go away before my friends show up.”

“They wouldmisunderstand.” The boy nodded to himself. “I just wanted to see you. You’re the one who will understand me. I hoped… I hoped you’d be ready. Soon, though, we can talk as we are meant to.”

He turned and disappeared into the crowd.

She watched him go; his blue hair made him stand out enough that it was easy. The acrobat kids seemed to be following him, but not with him. It was weird. They trailed him, and he walked as if he were alone. For a moment, she had a flash of worry for him. What if they aren’t with him? What if he’s in trouble?But they didn’t seem to be trying to hurt him, and he didn’t act like he was worried. And it’s not my problem.Still, she watched them as they headed toward the exit.

Owen was barely out of view when another, more important person caught her eye. “Fen!”

She pushed through the crowd, not caring that she was drawing attention or being rude. She shoved between him and the ever-present Hunter and grabbed Fen’s wrist. “I need to talk to you alone….” Her words died. Fen had flinched from her touch. She let go of his arm and said softly, “Please, Fen?”

He looked directly at her.

And she said the magic words, the words that they’d both used over the years: “I need your help with something.”

Her cousin opened his mouth, but before he could ask, she spoke. “I need to talk to Fen alone. If you could—”

“Go away, Hunter,” Fen finished for her. Then, he started through the crowd away from Hunter. He was pulling her with him as he had on who-knew-how-many adventures over the years, and she felt such relief that she almost hugged him. Everything would be okay now. She had Fen at her side again.

By the time they’d reached the edge of the festival, behind a row of booths where the tangled wires for the strands of temporary lights were stretched, Laurie was bursting with the words she’d been waiting to say. The music over the loudspeakers made it impossible for anyone in the booths to hear them, but that didn’t mean they wanted witnesses. They both knew that if the other one said “I need your help” that meant they also needed privacy.

After he confirmed that no one was watching, Fen let go of her and tucked his hands in the pockets of the torn jacket he was wearing. He looked around to make sure no one was nearby. “What happened?”

She didn’t want to start by accusing him—that never went well—so she started with her other worry. “I thought I was a fish,” she blurted.

“Okay.” Fen nodded, and then he paused, blinked, and said, “ What?”

“A fish,” she whispered.

He stepped closer to her and said, “Say that again.”

“I woke up in the middle of the night, and I was a fish and I couldn’t breathe and you weren’t there.” She sounded crazy even to herself. “I know it was just a dream, but it was so real, and all I could think about was telling you.”

Fen stared at her.

“Say something,” she half begged.

“Maybe you should keep a bucket of water by your bed, because Aunt Janey isn’t going to let me stay with you unless Uncle Stig is around.” Fen folded his arms over his chest.

Laurie stared at him.

The music on the loudspeaker was interrupted by some sort of squeal that caused them both to jump. After a minute, Fen said, “What I mean is maybe you really were a fish.”

“It was a dream; it had to be,” Laurie said.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Fen shrugged. “There’s weirder stuff out there.”

“Like what?”

“The Raider Scouts,” he said.

“Who?” Laurie couldn’t always follow the way his mind jumped around, but she knew he usually got to his point. “I don’t get it.”

“Those weird people who just camp and stuff all the time,” Fen said.

Laurie shook her head. “You think turning into a fish is lessweird than camping?”

Fen shrugged. “They say they’re wolves, you know.”

Laurie laughed. “Right. Well, maybe they are, and I’m a fish. Do you think I ought to join them? Can you imagine Mom’s face? I dreamed I’d turned into a fish, and Fen says maybe I’ll be a real fish, so I’m going to drop out of school and camp with these kids who say they’re wolves.”

“No, you shouldn’t join them, but…” The way Fen looked at her seemed off, but maybe that was just because his face was so bruised. He smiled, but it didn’t look quite right. “What if the Raiders really arewolves, Laurie? What if you really are a fish, or your dream means you will be?”

For a moment, she stared at him, and then she burst out laughing. “You don’t know a guy named Owen, do you?”

Now it was Fen who looked confused. “No. Why?”

“Everyone seems crazy tonight. He was a stranger who acted like he knew me, got into his role for the play too seriously. It was weird. Now, you’re telling me that there are kids who might be wolves, and… well, I’m telling you I am freaked out by a dream about being a fish. Crazy. Everything just seems crazy.”

“Some of the cousins joined them.”

“The Raiders?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Fen folded his arms over his chest. “Dad was one, you know.”

“So Uncle Eddy is a wolf? That makes you one, too.”

“Maybe,” Fen hedged.

“Okay, so I’m a fish; you and Uncle Eddy are wolves.” She shook her head. “I know it’s silly, but I feel better for having told you. I’ve never had such a realistic dream.”

For a moment, Fen said nothing. He stared at her as if he would, but then he grinned. “Come on. I stole some tickets earlier for the rides.”

She paused. Fen was relaxed enough for her to ask him about the other thing, but that didn’t mean he’d like it. She put a hand on his forearm. “You still need to tell me what happened.” She pointed at his swollen and blackened eye. “And about the shield. If Thorsen tells the sheriff, we’re going to get in so much trouble.”

Fen ignored her, as he always did when he didn’t feel like answering.

“Seriously, Fen! If they go to your house and find it, we’re going to—”

“It’s not at the house,” Fen interrupted. “I don’t have it, and ifI knew anything, that’s not enough to get me—or you—in trouble.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Trust me. I won’t ever let anything happen to you. You know that, don’t you? You’re my sister even though we don’t have the same parents.” Then he head-butted her. It almost hid his blush. He was embarrassed every time he admitted to having feelings.

For a moment, Laurie didn’t react. She knew he’d stolen it, but she also knew he looked out for her.

The look on his face was nervous, and he pulled his arm away from her—but he still tried to sound like he wasn’t hurt when he said, “Come on, fish. Or are you afraid you’ll slip off the Ferris wheel?”

“Jerk.” She shoved him carefully. Hugs weirded him out, but a gentle shove, punch, or head-butt he was okay with. “I’m not afraid of anything… as long as you’re not.”

SEVEN

MATT

“PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE”

When Matt saw the little girl racing into the rec center, he yelled at her to stop, but she kept running, bare feet slapping on the pavement, blond braids streaming behind. He flew through the entrance—only to see her running for the closed door into the private meeting his grandfather was having with the Elders.

Great. They choose me to stop Ragnarök, and what’s the first thing I do? Prove I can’t even stop a little girl from bursting into their meeting.

He could just turn around and walk away. Pretend he hadn’t seen where she was going. Or pretend he never met her in the first place. The easy way out, which meant he’d never take it, even if he wished he could.

He raced across the main room as fast as he could. But the girl had stopped at the meeting-room door and was just standing there, waiting patiently as she watched him with those weirdly grown-up blue eyes.

“Now you hear,” she whispered. She pointed at the door. “Listen.”

He started to tell her they had to leave when he caught the word Ragnarök. Then his name.

He leaned toward the door. Yes, he shouldn’t eavesdrop. Totally disrespectful. But the conversation was about him, which kind of made it his business. If he was caught, well, he’d just chased this little girl inside so he could return her to her parents. That’s champion-worthy behavior, isn’t it?

“… no need to tell the others yet. What I told them at the Thingis enough for now,” his grandfather was saying. “Those who need to know the truth already do. For the rest, it will come as a shock, and we must ease them into it.”

Was he talking about Matt being chosen as champion? That they had to tell the Thorsens who didn’t live in Blackwell? In Matt’s opinion, it was the ones who did live there—and knewhim—who’d be the most shocked, and they’d already heard.

“We must begin a quiet campaign to convince them that Ragnarök is not the end of the world. It is a change. A cleansing. Ultimately, it is an event that will benefit our people, present and future.”

He leaned closer.

“Ragnarök, as it is foretold in the myths, will not end the world. We must remind them of that. It will be a time of great turmoil and upheaval and a tragic loss of life, but the world will emerge the better for it. America is corrupt, from Wall Street to Washington, and it is the same in every country around the world. No politician or advocacy group can change that. Our world needs cleansing. Our world needs Ragnarök.”

The other Elders chimed in their agreement.

What? No. I’m hearing wrong. The champion is supposed tostop Ragnarök.

“We know how this must work. Matt must fight the serpent. Matt must defeat the serpent… but he must be defeated in turn. The champions of the gods must die, and the monsters must die, as the prophecy says, so the world can be reborn.”

Matt had stopped breathing.

They don’t want me to win.

His grandfather continued. “I do not take this lightly. I will be honest in saying that when I first realized Matt was the champion, I prayed that the runes would tell me I was mistaken. But I have come to realize that this is right. The boy is strong and he is good, and he is deserving of this honor. That is how I must see this. My grandson is being honored in the highest fashion, and he will do us proud, and he will take his place in the halls of Valhalla as a champion with the long-dead gods. As a hero. Our hero.”

Matt stumbled away from the door.

They expect me to die. They want the ice age to come, the world to end. I’m not their champion. I’m their sacrifice.

Of course I am. That’s why they chose me. Because I’m guaranteed to screw this up.

He’d been planning to tell Granddad exactly that: You made a mistake.But there’d been a little bit of him that hoped he really was the champion, that he’d finally show his family and everyone else—

The little girl took his hand and tugged him across the room, and he was so dazed, he just followed. When they were at the door, she whispered, “You seek Odin.”

Odin? Why would I…?

Because Odin was the leader of the gods. The most powerful of them all. The father of Thor.

He stared at the little girl. Who was she? Whatwas she? Not just a little girl—he was sure of that now.

“Odin will tell me how to fix this, right?” Matt said. “He’ll tell me how to defeat the Midgard Serpent and survive.”

Again, she looked confused. “I do not know. That is to come. That is not now. I know only—”

“You only know what is now. Yeah, I got that the first…” His gaze shifted to the mosaic on his left. A scene of Thor asking the Norns for advice.

The Norns. Three women who knew the destiny of gods and humans. In a lot of the old stories, Future was the youngest. But their tradition—and the mosaic—followed one from the old sagas. The oldest was Past. Then came Future. And finally, the youngest Norn—Present.

He turned to the little girl, and his heart started thumping again. By this point, he was pretty sure it was never going to beat at a normal rate again.

“Who are you?” he asked as the hairs on his neck prickled.

“You know.”

“One of the Norns. Present.”

She nodded. “I said you know.”

“And youdon’t know anything except what’s happening now. Or what should be happening now. So where do I get the rest?”

“From Future. She waits.”

“Where will I find her?”

“I do not know. That is to come—”

“All right, all right. Where is she now?”

The little girl pointed. “Out there. She waits.”

Matt followed her finger to the door. “Where exactly out there?”

No answer. He turned. The girl was gone.

This time when Matt walked into the fair, he still didn’t notice the smells, the sights, the sounds, but only because he was focused on his task. Find the Norn.

Find the Norn? Are you crazy? A Norn? Like in the stories? That’s all they are, you know. Stories.

Earlier, when he’d thought of fighting the serpent, he’d tried not to focus on what he believed. It was easy when they were old stories, like Noah’s Ark. You could say, “Sure, that could happen.” But then you thought about it, really thought about it, and said, “Seriously? One boat with two of every animal on Earth? How does that work?” It was easier to just not think about it. Accept it. That’s what he’d done his whole life.

That’s what he had to do now. Accept it. Believe it. He was looking for a Norn.

Which would be a lot easier if he had any clue what she looked like. The mosaic wasn’t much help. In it, the youngest Norn had been about his age, and the only thing she had in common with the little girl who had actually appeared was her blond hair. Blond hair in Blackwell was as rare as fleas on a homeless mutt.

He weaved through the crowds. Normally, that would be easy. While people knew who he was, they wouldn’t do more than nod or smile. Now Thorsens would stop mid-carnival-game to say something, and of course he had to be polite and respond.

With so many Thorsens talking to him, others noticed, and they said hi, too. Any other time, that would have been great. The center of attention. Can’t argue with that, especially when you’re usually only there if you’ve done something wrong. But right now, when he was on a mission, it was kind of inconvenient.

Finally, he spotted her. The Norn on the mosaic had been about his mom’s age, but this girl didn’t look older than Jake. She was dressed differently from the other girls at the fair, too. She wore a skirt of rough cloth, and her hair was piled up on top of her head in a heap of tiny braids. She sat on a bench, legs swinging as she watched kids on the merry-go-round.

So how did he know it was her? Because his amulet started vibrating. The same way it had right before he’d met the first Norn.

Still, he had to be sure. So he walked up as casually as he could and said, “Hey,” but she only smiled and said, “Hello.”

“Are you waiting for me?” he said.

She got that look of confusion, a mirror image of the little girl’s. “I do not know. That is—”

“The present. You only know the future. Got it.” And got the right girl, apparently. “Kind of feels like it should be Christmas, don’t you think?”

She tilted her head, frowning.

“Scrooge? The ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future?” He shook his head when she continued to frown. “Never mind. Okay, so I should be looking for Odin, because he’s going to tell me… what exactly?”

“How to defeat the Midgard Serpent.”

Matt exhaled as relief fluttered through him. “And stop Ragnarök? So things don’t need to happen the way they do in the myth, with all of us dying and the world ending?”

“Some parts cannot be changed. Some can. You must discover which is which.”

“But you can foresee the future, right?”

“There are many futures. I cannot tell which will come to pass. You will try to change what the myth foretells. You will succeed in some parts and fail in others.”

“Right. Except the whole die-defeating-the-serpent thing. I can definitely survive, despite what the myth says?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And if I do, the world doesn’t end?”

“It does not end, even if you fail,” she said carefully. “However, almost all life on it will perish.”

“Same thing. But if I defeat the serpent and survive, that doesn’t happen, right?”

“Correct.”

“Good. Now, where do I find him?” He paused again. “Is it really Odin? I mean, the gods died, didn’t they? Did Odin survive?”

She smiled. “No, the gods are dead. The one you seek is like yourself: a descendant. He is Odin as you are Thor. Yet he is not Odin, as you are not Thor.”

Which made perfect sense.

“So he’s a kid then. Where is he?” Matt asked.

“I do not know. Where Odin is, that is present. I know only what is to come.”

Matt exhaled. They really weren’t making this easy. “I willfind Odin, though. That’s a guarantee, which means I don’t need to look for him.”

“You may find him, or you may not.” She had a faraway look in her eyes as she spoke. “There is more than one future.”

Great.

Before he could try another tactic, the Norn said, “This is the best future. This is the one we wish for you: that you will find Odin, and you will find the others; that you will fight, and you will win.”

“The others? But they’ll come here, right? The Thingis going to gather them up.”

“They will gather possible champions, but they will not gather the right champions. That is your task.”

“And, let me guess, you have no idea where I’ll find anyone.”

“That is how. I do not know how. Only—”

“That I will or won’t,” he interrupted. “Do you know how completely useless that is? I’m thirteen. I can’t just hop in my car and let my magical god-descendant-finding GPS guide me.”

She looked at Matt blankly.

“Can I get one clue?” he said. “A bread crumb to start me on the trail? An e-mail address, maybe?”

“E-mail…?”

“Anything. I’ll do what you tell me, because while saving the world and all would be great, I’m not keen on the dying part, either. I’d like to live long enough to get out of middle school.”

She nodded. “That would be wise.”

“So, the other descendants. It’d be nice if I could find them all in Blackwell, but it’s only Thor and Loki here, isn’t it?”

“You will not find the others here. Aroundhere, yes, but not here.”

Matt tried to be patient as he asked, “Around here…? In the county? The state? The country? The continent?”

“In the place known as South Dakota.”

At least she hadn’t said “continent.”

The air beside her shimmered, and the little girl took form again.

“I know where Loki is,” the little girl said.

“Okay, that’s great, but I don’t need Loki. Sure, he’s to be at Ragnarök, but he leads the other side.”

“That is not the present,” said the girl Norn.

“Okay so…” He turned to the older Norn. “Am I right that Loki—or his descendant—will lead the monsters?”

“Loki may, or he may not. That is up to you,” she said.

“Meaning he could help us, which would sway the battle our way, so I need to get him on our side. Got it.” He turned to the youngest. “Where is he?”

“Loki is there.” She gestured.

Matt followed her hand to see Laurie and Fen standing in line for the Tilt-A-Whirl. Fen? No way.

“Right there. Now?” He pivoted to watch Fen and Laurie as they climbed into one of the red cars. “But you said there were other champions. Maybe you can find another one for Loki, because Fen is not ever, in a million years…”

He turned back and found he was talking to himself. The Norns had vanished.

“… going to help me with anything,” he muttered.