Odin's Ravens (The Blackwell Pages)

by K. L. Armstrong

“The mayor called us, Miss Brekke.” The officer gave her the sort of look that would’ve scared Laurie into silence last week, the kind that adults always give kids when they think they know everything. After a swarm of zombies and a stampede of buffalo, it obviously didn’t frighten her like it once would have. His cousin simply glared at the officer.

  “Baldwin isn’t even dead.” Fen shook his head. “You’re arresting me for something that didn—”

  “We have witnesses, boy,” the mayor interrupted.

  “Witnesses to a crime that didn’t happen,” Fen scoffed.

  “They’re obviously lying,” Laurie said.

  The mayor shook his head and turned to the officer, “Fen Brekke has been a vandal and troublemaker as long as he’s been old enough to walk into town. And all the Brekkes are liars.”

  Neither Fen nor Laurie replied.

  The officer stared at Fen. “You said this was Eddy Brekke’s boy, didn’t you?”

  Mayor Thorsen nodded.

  The officer shook his head. “The apple certainly didn’t fall very far from that tree, did it?”

  Laurie squeezed Fen’s hand, and he forced himself to remain silent. He wasn’t like his dad, not really. Sure, he had screwed up here and there, but he was trying to be a good guy. He was trying to be a hero. Maybe they could see that if he tried to explain—not the monsters part or the going to Hel or the turning into a wolf—but the part they should understand.

  “Baldwin isn’t dead,” Fen repeated. “I told you that. He’s not dead. I didn’t kill him. Seriously, if he’s dead, where’s the body?”

  “You tell us, young man,” the mayor said.

  The officer apparently had run out of patience. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and took a step toward Fen. The mayor was behind the officer, and Fen and Laurie faced him. There was no way the odds were fair, but they hadn’t been fair in the fights against the other monsters—the not-human ones—either. Heroes didn’t give up. It was in the rule book or something.

  Fen growled, sounding nothing like a person but unable to stop himself. He wasn’t going into a cage. He had no idea how he’d get out of that, and he had to so he could keep Laurie safe, rescue Matt, defeat the bad guys, and maybe save the world. He didn’t have time to be arrested, especially for something he hadn’t done.

  “Fen,” Laurie started, but she didn’t say more. She looked at him sort of helplessly and then stepped in front of him. Fen winced. She was a girl, and she was trying to protect him like he was weak. Fen’s job was to protect her.

  “Move,” he said in a low voice. His eyes met the mayor’s over her shoulder.

  “Look,” the officer said. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to put these on.” He tried to reach past Laurie, and she backed up, pushing Fen backward with her body.

  “No, you’re not.” Her chin went up as she said it. “Whoever told the mayor that they were witnesses has to be confused. Baldwin is alive. Fen said so. You have no reason to arrest my cousin.” She put her arms out on either side of her, and then she stepped back again. “He’s not going with you. He’s not an animal. Right, Fen?”

  At that, Fen felt stupid. He could tell he was to get some message out of that last bit, but he had no idea whether she was telling him to change or not to change. All he knew was that her message was about being a wolf.

  “I could be,” he murmured.

  “No!” she yelled.

  He sighed. That wasn’t the answer he was hoping to hear.

  In another minute, it didn’t matter, though, because the officer pushed Laurie aside and grabbed Fen.

  Fen tried to jerk away, and the officer shoved him onto the table.

  “Wait!” Laurie yelled. She shot the officer a smug grin. “Now you’ll see. Just answer the door.”

  “It’s about time,” Fen muttered. The officer’s hand was in the middle of Fen’s back, holding him so he was facedown on the table with his arms pulled behind him. All Fen could do was stand there with his cheek flat to the table and his arms restrained behind him. The officer cuffed him. It was humiliating, but his cousin’s words eased that feeling tremendously. She could sense the descendants; she knew who was at the door.

  Laurie darted over and yanked it open. There, grinning in that way that he had before every bit of trouble they’d faced, was Baldwin.

  “Someone said you thought I was dead,” Baldwin said as he came into the cabin. He left the door open and gestured behind him, where a group of about ten kids waited. “My friends here helped me reach you so I could see if you really thought that, but I think they’re teasing or something. I’m pretty sure I’m not dead. Anyone can see that.”

  The officer looked from Baldwin to Fen to the mayor. He removed his hand from Fen’s back but didn’t remove the cuffs.

  Fen straightened up, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck.

  “Told you,” Fen muttered.

  Frowning, the officer lifted the photograph he had of Baldwin, looked at it, and looked back to the boy who stood watching them with a friendly smile. When the officer looked back at the photo again, Fen caught Baldwin’s eye and mouthed, Get Laurie out.

  The expression on the boy’s face didn’t change, but he stepped farther inside the cabin, moving toward Laurie. The people outside were all watching.

  “Close the door,” the mayor said.

  “It’s okay. They’re with my friend Odin.” Laurie glanced at the mayor. “Do you know Odin, Mayor Thorsen?”

  “She’s not under arrest, is she?” Fen asked.

  The officer looked confused. “You’re Baldwin Osgood?”

  Baldwin nodded as he walked over to the picture. “Yeah. That’s me. Not a great picture, though, is it?” He pointed at the image. It was undeniably him, but whatever likability Baldwin had seemed to kick in more as he spoke. “I couldn’t get the trick I was doing that day. Broke my board trying.” He laughed. “That’s why I look so grumpy in the picture.”

  The officer nodded. He was swayed by Baldwin’s persuasive presence just like everyone else. He smiled at the boy. “My son’s like that.”

  “Hey, do you mind if my friends come in?”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” the mayor interjected.

  For a moment, the officer paused. He frowned as if trying to think if there was a reason it was a bad idea to let them inside the house.

  Baldwin added, “It’s getting darker, and you know how many dangers are out there, right? I mean, you thought someone had killed me. Thanks for caring about that, by the way. It’s cool of you.”

  The officer smiled. “You kids, come on in.”

  The strangers outside—ones Laurie said were with Odin—started to fill the cabin. Several of them surrounded Laurie, and after she whispered something in the ear of the one closest to her, others moved toward the door that led to Matt and the hidden hunter.

  “Can you uncuff my friend, Officer…? What’s your name?” Baldwin sat and looked up at the officer.

  “Davison. Officer Davison,” he said as he uncuffed Fen.

  Calmly, Mayor Thorsen said, “Well, I guess there was a misunderstanding. Thank you for your time.” He gestured toward the still-open door. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Fen rubbed his wrists and immediately went to stand by Laurie.

  The officer looked around at them, clearly not sure what was going on. He folded his arms. “Why don’t I just stay until we get this sorted out?” It wasn’t really a question, even though he’d said it like it was. He might be influenced by Baldwin’s persuasiveness, but he was still able to notice that something was very wrong here.

  “No, no,” the mayor insisted. “These kids can all go along home. I’ll take my grandson home to his parents.”

  “We can’t leave Matt here,” Laurie whispered as she hugged Fen tightly to her.

  “I know.” Fen looked toward the closed door.

  The mayor was looking around at the crowd of kids.

  “Why don’t y
ou go ahead home,” Baldwin suggested. He put his hand on Officer Davison’s sleeve. “There’s no one here to arrest. The mayor’s here, so you don’t have to worry about unsupervised kids.”

  Officer Davison glanced at the mayor, who nodded and said, “The boy’s right. I can handle this.”

  After a moment’s pause, Officer Davison left. One of the kids stopped the door from closing. It was quiet as the officer got in his car and left.

  Then, one of the kids bowed to Laurie and said, “Odin sends his regards.” He turned to Fen, nodded at him, and added, “He thought you might need a bit of help, so we’re at your command tonight.”

  Fen grinned. They wouldn’t be going to jail, and with this kind of help, even the hunter on the other side of the door wasn’t going to be able to stop them from getting out of here and getting back to Saint Agnes. Things were about to get better.

  TWELVE

  MATT

  “HARD TRUTH”

  Stop,” Rusty said as Matt tensed.

  “I wasn’t—”

  “You were getting ready to make a run for that door. Your granddad wanted you to wait here, and I need to make sure you do. I don’t want to hurt you, son.”

  “You already did.”

  Matt hated the note of shock still in his voice. He sounded like a little kid, stunned that a grown-up had struck him. He was supposed to be Thor’s champion. A fighter. The old rules didn’t count. Except it felt like they did. He touched his sore jaw and winced, as much at the pain as the lingering surprise that Rusty had hit him.

  He’d tried to go after Granddad. To explain that Baldwin wasn’t dead. But Rusty had grabbed him and when he’d broken free, Rusty had smacked him, the blow knocking him clean off his feet.

  It wasn’t just the fact Rusty had done it that shocked Matt. It was the way he had, matter-of-fact, no anger. No apology, either. He’d sent Matt flying, then given him another shot of tranquilizer. This one didn’t knock him out.

  “It’s just to keep you calm, son,” Rusty had said. “While your grandpa handles this.”

  It kept Matt calm, all right. So calm he could barely move. It was like getting gas at the dentist, except this kind didn’t make him happy—it made his head fuzzy and his limbs heavy, practically pinning him to the chair.

  He’d tried to explain to Rusty that Baldwin wasn’t dead. But the man had only smiled, like Matt was a little kid telling stories—and not very good at it. So Matt sat there, struggling to listen to the conversation in the next room. But he couldn’t catch more than the murmur of voices through the thick wood walls.

  He had to get out. He had to explain.

  Matt had focused on the door and on gathering his strength to jump up and race out and…

  He’d barely tensed when Rusty had said, “Stop,” knowing exactly what he planned.

  “Relax, son. It’ll be over soon and you can go back to your folks. They’re mighty worried about you. What I hear, your dad’s been out every night, searching. All day and all night. Your brothers, too. Your poor mama waiting at home, hoping you’re going to walk through that door any minute now. And you will. In just a couple of hours. You’ll see them, and everything will be okay.”

  “Fen didn’t kill—”

  “The courts will decide that. If he didn’t, he’ll be fine.”

  “My dad’s a sheriff. I know Fen won’t be fine. He’ll be arrested, and he’ll be charged, and if he gets bail, he’ll go to a group home, but he almost definitely won’t get bail, because they think he killed someone, meaning he’s in jail until—”

  “Juvenile detention, not jail. From what I hear, the boy could use it.”

  “Fen—”

  The door opened. Granddad stood in the opening. Matt leaped up and when he did, his weak legs gave way and he almost fell, catching himself on the chair just before he did.

  Granddad didn’t make a move to help Matt recover. Rusty did, but Matt brushed him off and turned to his grandfather, who stood there, a distant look in his eyes, as if he hadn’t noticed Matt stumble.

  “It seems there’s been a mistake,” he said. “Balder—Baldwin—is still alive.”

  “So Fen… The police didn’t take Fen?” Matt asked.

  “No.”

  Matt crumpled into the chair and exhaled. His head was still fuzzy and his arms and legs felt like they were weighed down with stones, but he managed to find his voice.

  “I know about the plan, Granddad,” he said. “I know you don’t expect me to win against the Midgard Serpent.”

  Granddad lowered himself into a chair. He didn’t look shocked. Just tired. Really tired. Sad, too, his gaze down, his hands folded on his lap as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

  “I thought you might,” Granddad said finally. “You were there at the community center. When I was talking to the other elders. You listened in.”

  “No! I mean, yes, but I wasn’t eavesdropping. There was this girl—or I thought she was a girl—and I chased her in and—”

  “Do you really think I’m going to give you trouble for listening in, Matty?” Granddad gave a wry, sad smile. “You overheard me say that I didn’t expect you to survive the battle. That I expected you to lose. To die. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”

  Matt remembered how it felt. Like the worst thing that ever happened to him. His hands started to tremble, and he clenched his fists.

  “You’re angry,” Granddad said.

  “No, I’m not—” He lifted his head and met his grandfather’s blue eyes. “Yes, I’m angry. I’ve never been more angry or more—” He bit the words off with a sharp shake of his head.

  “You thought I didn’t believe in you. That I didn’t think you could do it.”

  Matt shrugged. “Can’t blame you. If I screwed up everything else, you’d figure I was going to screw up that, too.”

  Granddad frowned. “Everything else? When have you screwed up?” He paused and nodded. “If you mean running away with the Brekkes—”

  “No, I mean before that. At Jolablot, when I messed up my reading. At the science fair, when I didn’t win like my brothers. Everything.”

  A soft laugh. “Those aren’t ‘everything,’ Matt. They’re a couple of stumbles and, considering you got an honorable mention at the science fair, that’s hardly a ‘screwup.’ Your brothers excel at what they excel at, and you excel at what you excel at. You have As—in English and history. You have trophies—in wrestling and boxing. These may not be traditional areas of expertise for a Thorsen, but that’s what’s made you something your brothers can never be. The Champion of Thor. His chosen representative.”

  “Chosen to die, according to you.”

  Granddad blinked, as if surprised by Matt’s tone. Matt resisted the urge to apologize.

  “No, not according to me, Matt. According to the runes. According to the Seer. You heard me say that, because that’s what the runes say and if I argue, I sound like a sentimental old man. Blackwell doesn’t need a sentimental old man right now. It needs a leader. One who is willing to accept hard facts. The hardest, most unpleasant facts, like the death of his favorite grandchild. You know that, don’t you, Matty? That you are my favorite?”

  Matt squirmed. He didn’t want to hear that, not now. He needed to be a leader here, and that meant thinking clearly, not letting his feelings get the better of him.

  Granddad murmured something to Rusty. The other man nodded and left. Then Granddad moved his chair toward Matt’s, stopping so close their knees brushed.

  “I don’t want you to die, Matt. I will do everything in my power to make sure you don’t, no matter what I say to others. I have ideas. Plans. I don’t think the serpent needs to kill you.”

  “But you think Ragnarök needs to come. I heard you say that to the others.”

  Granddad sighed. “I tell them what they need to hear, because it is coming and raging against it won’t help. It’s easier if we believe it’s for the best, and we prepare for it.” He met Matt’s g
aze. “You cannot defeat the serpent, Matthew, and that’s not because you aren’t strong enough or clever enough or powerful enough. You cannot win, because you are fated to lose. The prophecies say—”

  “The prophecies are wrong.”

  “I know you’d like to believe that, but—”

  “They are.” Matt got to his feet. “Fen didn’t kill Baldwin. This girl named Astrid did. She’s a witch with no connection to Loki. She killed Baldwin and tried to steal my shield, but I got it back, and we went to the afterlife and we talked to Helen, and she gave us Baldwin back.”

  Granddad stared. “You went to—?”

  “Yes. Just like in the stories. Except in the stories, Helen doesn’t give Balder back, because Loki doesn’t grieve. This isn’t the stories. Loki didn’t kill Balder. Loki did grieve. Helen gave Baldwin back. That means the prophecies—”

  Granddad rose and cut Matt short with a hand on his shoulder. “Someone has done something to you, Matty. Maybe given you some kind of drugs. I don’t know. There’s a lot of magic out there, and someone has worked it on you. There’s no way Baldwin died and came back, and there’s certainly no way you went to Hel and—”

  Matt yanked back. “I did. We did. I can tell you everything we’ve done, if you’ll listen. We found the twins. We fought trolls. We fought Raiders who turn to wolves. We’ve talked to Norns. We’ve ridden with the Valkyries. I have my shield. I know where to find Mjölnir.”

  “You—you’ve…” His grandfather seemed beyond words.

  “Yes. All of that. Let me explain, and you’ll see that we can win this.”

  His grandfather put his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Yes, I think you should explain everything, Matt. Tell me everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve seen. And we’ll get Mjölnir together—”

  The door burst open. It was a kid Matt had never seen before. He was about sixteen, maybe seventeen. Matt’s height but thinner. Blond hair in braids, tied back, with black feathers hanging from them. Laurie stood beside him, looking anxious.

  “Matt Thorsen,” the kid with the braids said, “if you’re done talking to your grandfather, I think you guys better hit the road.”