Odin's Ravens

by K. L. Armstrong

  She could open a portal, shove Fen in, and try to dive through, but that didn’t help Matt. Even if Matt were conscious, she wasn’t sure she could open one fast enough, and there was no way they were leaving him behind.

  “Lift him,” the hunter said.

  Fen glared at the man. “You shot him; you lift him.”

  “Don’t try me, boy.” The hunter shifted slightly so the gun was aimed at Laurie. “These were for Matt, and he’s twice her weight. Should I see what they do to her?”

  With a familiar reckless expression on his face, Fen stepped in front of her. She couldn’t see his face now that he was blocking her body with his own, so she wasn’t sure if he would charge the hunter. He had done less intelligent things in their lives, and she knew that he wasn’t likely to be okay with going anywhere with the hunter. Maybe it was a wolf thing, but Fen didn’t always do well with enclosed spaces. The man who had tranquilized Matt was either going to cage them or hurt them. Neither option was great.

  Laurie leaned closer to Fen’s back and said, “We don’t have any choice. I can’t get us out of here, and we can’t leave Matt.”

  Fen growled, but she knew it was frustration, not anger at her.

  “It’ll be okay,” she said. “Just help me with Matt.”

  Fen turned to face her.

  Then she crouched down beside Matt, ducking her head to hide her expression from the hunter as she tried to pass a message to her cousin and the hidden boy. “All three of us will just have to go with him. He’ll probably turn us in to the cops or the Raiders, whichever one he’s working for, and we’ll figure out a plan.”

  Fen squatted down beside her; his side was to the hunter, so his expression was partially hidden by his hair when he lowered his head slightly. “Get help,” he mouthed in the general direction of Baldwin, all while he made a show of trying to find Matt’s pulse to check it and feel his head to make sure it wasn’t swelling. “You’re making a mistake trying to arrest us or whatever.”

  The man snorted. “Can you carry him or not? I can’t carry three people, and I’m not going to get in trouble because I left witnesses.”

  Fen and Laurie exchanged a look, and she knew he was trying to stay calm—and still think of a plan. She was, too. “It’ll be okay,” she said, trying to sound positive, and then she raised her voice. “We can carry him.”

  Fen looked like he was ready to bite someone, but he nodded at her and together they hauled Matt into their arms. Not only were they captives, but they were being made to carry one of their group off to wherever the hunter was taking them. Monsters suddenly seemed much easier to face than humans.

  TEN

  MATT

  “HEAP OF TROUBLE”

  Matt opened his eyes. He was staring at a rough wood board dotted with green and gray lichen. There was another plank above it. He rubbed his eyes and looked down. He was lying on an old blanket stretched out on a wooden floor.

  A cabin, he thought. I’m in an old cabin. Is this where we spent the night?

  No, he remembered sleeping bags on cold ground. Then something about goats? And Astrid? Was that a dream? His thoughts were muddled and distorted.

  Mjölnir. They’d been looking for Mjölnir. Did they get the hammer and then find a cabin for the night—?

  He bolted upright. As he did, his stomach lurched, his brain lurching, too, and he bent over, gagging. Someone shoved a bucket under him.

  “Easy, son. Take it easy.”

  Matt looked up, struggling to focus. The first thing he saw was Thor’s Hammer. Not Mjölnir. An amulet, hanging around a neck. His fingers flew to his own throat and touched the metal there. He could see the other one wasn’t his now, too. The design was different. Yet it was definitely a Thor’s Hammer amulet. He tried to lift his head to look at the man’s face, but his stomach and head lurched again and his gaze dropped to the arm holding the bucket. A thick, brawny arm covered in fine reddish hair. Finally, he managed to look up at the man himself. He was as tall as Matt’s dad, with even wider shoulders, a broad face, and a red beard.

  The man was a Thorsen. He had to be, a big guy with red hair and that amulet.

  “Whaaa…” Matt’s throat wouldn’t open to form the rest of the words. It felt like he’d swallowed acid again. Or maybe dust. Sand, even. His throat was parched.

  The man handed him a bottle of water. “Drink slowly, son.”

  Matt racked his brain to pull up the last thing he remembered. They’d been going after Mjölnir….

  Blackwell. They’d been in Old Blackwell.

  Matt’s gaze shot up to the man’s face, ignoring the pounding surf in his head as he struggled to focus on the man’s features. He had a leathery face and a slight squint in one blue eye. A scar bisected his cheek. He wasn’t anyone Matt recognized. That meant he wasn’t a Thorsen from Blackwell.

  What had happened? Come on, Matty. Think.

  Goats. The goats had been following him. Thor’s goats. Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr. He’d been trying to give them the slip, but they just kept following until…

  Until the portal. It had seemed as if Matt left the goats behind there, but then they’d heard something following them again and thought it was the goats. They’d reached the cemetery and Baldwin had gone over the fence and Matt had passed his shield through and…

  And then what?

  And then he woke up in this cabin, with this man.

  “How…? Where…?” He looked around. “My friends. I was with—”

  “If you mean the Brekkes, they’re not your friends, son. But they’re safe.” The man said it with a slight twist of his lips as if he’d rather it was otherwise. “Now, you’ve caused a heap of trouble for your folks, Matthew Thorsen, but I know you didn’t mean to. You’re a good boy. Things just got confusing, didn’t they? Those Brekke brats steered you wrong, but your grandpa understands that.”

  “G-Granddad?” Matt scrambled up now, looking around wildly. “Where am I?”

  “ ’Bout two miles outside Blackwell.” The man paused. “What were you doing busting into that graveyard, son?”

  Matt blinked, feigning confusion as he tried to think of an excuse fast. His muddled brain wouldn’t cooperate, and he could only say, “I… I don’t remember.”

  “Were you looking for something?”

  Now he really fixed on the confused look. “Looking for something? In a graveyard?”

  The man seemed to buy it. “Never mind about that, then. Tell me—”

  “Who are you?” Matt cut in. “I know you’re a Thorsen, and you seem to know my grandfather, but I don’t know you. I’m not sure I should be talking to you.”

  Again, the man bought it. Either he thought Matt wasn’t too bright, or he didn’t know enough about thirteen-year-olds to realize they were past the age of refusing to speak to strangers.

  “Rusty Thorsen,” he said. “Out of Sioux Falls. No, we’ve never met, son. I know your grandpa, and he asked me to come find you. I’m a tracker. I help folks find big game.” A broad smile. “And it seems that works just as well on finding young fellas who run away from home. I—” A rap at the door interrupted him. “Well, now, I think that’s your grandpa.”

  As Rusty strolled out, Matt tensed, waiting until he’d passed through the open doorway. Then he pushed up, looking around as he did, ready to run…

  Nowhere. There wasn’t anyplace for him to go. He was in a bare room with no windows and only one door—the way Rusty just walked out.

  Matt crept toward the door, but even as he drew near, he knew it was useless. He could hear Rusty’s voice right outside it. Then he heard another voice. A familiar one. His grandfather. His knees wobbled, and all he could think was, I’m home.

  When Hildar said he had to return to Blackwell, he’d been sure he couldn’t do it. Getting that close to home would be too much, the temptation to run back to his parents and tell them everything and hope—pray—they didn’t know his grandfather’s plan, and that they would help him.r />
  He hadn’t run home, obviously. Even when he’d seen the familiar landscape, he’d stayed on mission. Get Mjölnir. Move on to the next quest. Keep training. Keep preparing.

  He’d been proud of himself for that. He wasn’t a child anymore, dashing home when things got tough.

  Yet now, as he heard Granddad’s voice…

  Matt sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Gonna run home now, Matty? Run to be saved by Granddad? Run back to the guy who wants to sacrifice you to a giant serpent? To sacrifice most of humanity?

  No. Of course not. He was a leader, a fighter, a winner. He might not believe what Hildar had said about him being the god reborn, but he was still a son of Thor, a true descendant of the North.

  Maybe it didn’t have to be like that, though. He wasn’t the same messed-up kid he’d been when the runes chose him. He’d been tested, and he’d passed those tests. Yes, his grandfather had told the elders that the world needed Ragnarök, but Matt was sure he didn’t really believe that. He’d been saying what they needed to hear. Putting the best possible spin on the worst possible situation. Ragnarök was coming, and there was no way a bunch of kids could train fast enough to defeat the greatest monsters in Norse legends. Blackwell had to prepare and, as mayor, Granddad had to help them through it, as much as he might wish he didn’t have to.

  What if you’re wrong? What if he really does want you to fail?

  The doorway darkened. Matt looked up and there was his grandfather, his lined face drawn with worry. His blue eyes lit on Matt, and he let out an audible sigh of relief and in three long strides, he crossed the floor and caught Matt up in a hug so tight his ribs crackled in protest.

  “Matty,” his grandfather whispered, his voice catching. “I was so worried.”

  “I’m sorry.” Matt didn’t mean to say that, but he couldn’t help it. He saw his grandfather’s face, and there was no question. Granddad loved him. Whatever he’d said to the elders, he hadn’t really planned to let Matt die. He hadn’t planned to let the world end. The thought was so stupid that Matt’s cheeks flushed with shame for ever believing it.

  Yes, Granddad had doubted him. He might have even thought they didn’t stand a chance. But now Matt could tell him about the Norns and the Valkyries and the shield and their new powers, and he’d understand that they could do this. They really could.

  “I’m going to fix this, Matty,” his grandfather murmured, still hugging him. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I know you’ve tried so hard to be a champion. You are a champion. But you’ve been misled, and things have gone wrong.”

  “What? No. We’ve—”

  Granddad moved back, hands going to Matt’s shoulders, gaze locking with his. “I know what happened, Matt, and I know it wasn’t your fault. You thought you could change fate. You thought you could stop Loki from killing Balder, and you couldn’t, and you must feel terribly guilty about that—”

  “Fen didn’t kill—”

  “I know what happened, Matt. I know the boy died, and I know Fen Brekke killed him. That was the prophecy, and that’s what happened, and it isn’t your fault.”

  “No, Baldwin—”

  Another knock, this time at the front door. Matt tried to blurt out the truth, that someone else killed Baldwin, a girl working for the Raiders, a girl named Astrid, that they’d brought Baldwin back and he was alive again. He only got the first part out, and his grandfather didn’t even seem to hear that. He was already heading out to answer the knock, pulling the door shut behind him, and Rusty was pushing Matt back into the room, keeping him from running after his grandfather, telling him to relax, it was okay, it would all be okay.

  He heard the door open. He heard a man’s voice, one he didn’t recognize.

  “You have the boy here, sir?” the man asked.

  “I do. Thank you for coming, Officer. This is a terrible situation, I know. One boy dead at the hands of another. A horrible thing. Justice will be served, though. The killer is here, in the next room. A boy from my own town. Fen Brekke.”

  “No!” Matt said, wrenching wildly against Rusty. But the big man held him easily, one huge hand slapping over Matt’s mouth as his grandfather led the police into the next room to arrest Fen for Baldwin’s murder.

  ELEVEN

  FEN

  “FALSELY ACCUSED”

  As the officer led Fen into the main room of the cabin, Mayor Thorsen smiled at Fen. It was the sort of smile that wasn’t really friendly. Fen growled.

  He knew that Matt was behind the door that had slammed shut, and he wanted to attack the hunter for drugging Matt with that dart. They might not have been friends before they decided to work together to save the world, but they were a team now. Not knowing how to rescue Matt was awful; knowing that the hunter was on the other side of that closed door, probably restraining Matt right now, was even worse. Matt was a captive of a man who’d shot him with a tranquilizer, and Fen and Laurie were facing an officer with a gun, one with real bullets in it, most likely.

  Would he shoot a kid?

  Fen looked around the room for some sort of weapon. There was a small table and a beat-up sofa, but they weren’t going to be much use. Beyond that was the closed door to the room where Matt was. This was not a good situation in any way.

  Laurie trailed behind Fen. She could run. The hunter must be in the room with Matt. Mayor Thorsen and the officer were focused on him. Laurie, at least, could get to safety.

  Fen turned and whispered to her, “If you can, make a break for it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “As if.”

  “What did you say?” the officer demanded.

  “Nothing.” Fen huffed out a breath. He wanted to argue with Laurie, but he also wasn’t sure what the officer would do if she did run. The thought of her being arrested made him feel sick—not that the thought of him being arrested was much better.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Laurie told the officer.

  “Thorsen?” Fen called out to Matt. “You keep her safe if they take me.”

  Although Matt didn’t answer, Fen had to hope he’d heard, that he was conscious, and that he would find a way to get Laurie to safety.

  “Was she a part of this, too?” the mayor asked, glancing at Laurie. “Did you help him, young lady?”

  Laurie grabbed Fen’s hand. “No one did anything wrong… except the man who shot Matt.”

  “No one shot my grandson,” the mayor scoffed. “The lies children tell these days. It’s absurd that they think they can get away with lying—and worse. It starts with the parents, of course.”

  The officer nodded and said, “Broken homes. Bad influences. Lack of discipline.” He sounded sad as he spoke, like he genuinely felt sorry for the kids. His forehead furrowed. “Bad parenting ruins so many young people’s lives.”

  Fen almost felt sorry for the man. He was the one being lied to, and he really seemed like he might be a nice enough guy. Still, he was there to arrest them. That decreased Fen’s sympathy a fair amount. When the officer had arrived, Fen had heard the muted conversation from inside the room where he and Laurie had been locked up. It was ridiculous that he was about to be arrested for a murder that he didn’t commit—especially now that he’d been one of the people who had brought Baldwin back from the dead. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that surprising that Fen was unjustly accused. The police in Blackwell had a longstanding habit of assuming that the Brekkes committed most crimes in the area. Okay, admittedly, his family regularly broke more than a few laws, but that didn’t mean that they were at fault for everything. Case in point: Fen did not kill Baldwin.

  “Just tell us what happened,” the officer said in a reasonable voice. “We know you killed the boy, but we need to know why.”

  “Why?” Fen repeated, staring at the officer who had just accused him of murder. It felt different hearing it said to his face than through a locked door.

  “Why did you kill Baldwin Osgood?” The officer held out a picture of Bald
win.

  “You honestly think I killed someone?” Fen half growled the words, which probably didn’t help the situation, but he wasn’t exactly at his calmest. They’d been kidnapped; Matt had been shot with some sort of tranquilizer. Now the mayor had called in an officer to arrest Fen for a murder he hadn’t committed, all of this after he and the others had gone to the afterlife to rescue Baldwin… which hadn’t been exactly easy, what with dealing with a sea of zombies, the stinky cave bear, and creepy Aunt Helen. Oh, yeah, and a flaming two-headed giant. He couldn’t even tell them all that he’d gone through to rescue the kid they thought he’d killed. Adults just didn’t listen half the time.

  Laurie stayed beside him; she clutched his hand in hers, and he wasn’t sure if it was to keep him from doing something stupid or because she was afraid. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do something crazy. They’d been captured, forced to carry Thorsen to this cabin, and then locked in a tiny room with only a sagging bed and a battered dresser. He’d been pacing, plotting, and coming up with only ridiculous plans—ones that would result in someone getting shot. He hoped Baldwin was having better luck at mounting a rescue, but he wasn’t sure that Baldwin could even find them, much less rescue them on his own. Being the embodiment of a cheerful god wasn’t going to be quite enough of a skill for Baldwin to get them out of this.

  “Fen didn’t kill anyone,” Laurie said finally. “I’m not sure why you think—”

  “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.