by Ruth Eastham
He moved around the boat, trying to draw Vekell away from Skuli and Emma. He forced his voice into fake confidence. “I’ve kept it from you all these years.”
Axe resting on his shoulder, the man stepped towards Jack. “Give it to me.”
Jack edged away. His shoulders pressed against the hull of the boat and he reached back, scrabbling about with his fingers, grasping only a useless fistful of papery petals. He felt a cramp of fear but he continued to hold Vekell’s gaze. “We both lost brothers that day.”
Vekell’s voice was low, dangerous. “Give me the arrowhead.”
“I don’t think you understand.” Jack’s shaky fingers closed round a pine branch, spiky with needles. He glimpsed Skuli and Emma slowly moving in on each side of Vekell. “If anyone takes the arrowhead back to Odin…” he gripped the sharp branch in his fist – “…I will!”
With a shout he flung the branch hard into Vekell’s face. The man gave a bellow and Jack sprang away as the axe swiped the air. Shouting, Emma kicked hard at Vekell’s legs. There was a blur of movement as Skuli charged forward, and Vekell lost his balance and crashed down.
“Quick,” hissed Jack. “Now! Run!”
They tore down the corridor to the main entrance and Jack rattled the handle.
“It’s locked?” gasped Emma.
“The keys, Skuli!” Jack cried. “You have Petter’s keys, right?”
Skuli pulled them out and started trying them in the lock, fumbling to find the right one.
Jack heard noises from the boat gallery; running footsteps getting closer.
“Come on!” Skuli said through gritted teeth as he tried another key.
Jack glanced over his shoulder. Vekell appeared at the end of the corridor, axe swinging by his side. With a shout he charged straight at Jack.
Jack moved away from the others and stood his ground, his hands in fists at his side. Heart hammering, he saw the axe come at him at him, saw the razor edge of it glint as he hurtled closer. Closer. Closer…
At the very last moment, Jack threw himself to one side. The axe swung down and bit into the wood floor with a sickening thud. He scrambled away on all fours and jumped back on to his feet as Vekell tugged the handle to free it.
“The protection runes!” Jack shouted “Now!” Emma came close, yanking up the sleeves of her coat.
“I will have the arrowhead!” Vekell wrenched the axe from the floor and made a savage swipe. Jack felt the force of it sweep past. He twisted to avoid it, the side of his face smacking against the glass of the door. He hauled himself to his feet, light exploding through his head, and copied Emma, lifting his arms, runes exposed. He saw Vekell hesitate, but then tighten his grip on the shaft of the axe and lurch forward.
“You too, Skuli!” Emma screamed. “The Three together!”
Skuli tugged at his sleeves. The axe was in the air again as the three of them stood, shoulder to shoulder, their arms raised high.
Vekell stopped, swaying a little. His face twisted and his eyes blazed, but he came no nearer. The axe slipped from his hand and Jack shot out a foot to kick it away.
It gave Skuli the time he needed. He leapt back to the lock. There was the clatter of metal, the click of a key turning, and they rammed the door open, tumbling forward and out into a shock of cold air and driving rain.
And they ran.
16
BEWARE, MY BROTHER
Power against three and against thirty.
The Nine Herbs Charm
Jack’s legs moved mechanically over the pebble shore. His breathing came out in clipped gasps. He couldn’t feel pain or cold, just the relentless need to run. Skuli and Emma sprinted ahead of him, kicking up water from the flooded boardwalk.
Jack twisted his head to look behind at the squat grey shape of the museum. The rain drove into his face. Was Vekell following? Emma stumbled and Jack put on a burst of speed to grab her arm and steady her.
The shoreline flashed past. Across the bay a blur of waterfalls spread like white webs over the rock slopes. They sprinted up the steep track towards the gorge. He looked back over his shoulder again but now all he could see was a smothering mass of mist.
How were they going to get Tor to the boat now? he asked himself.
They got to the footbridge. Jack glanced down, past the handrail to the river churning under them, crumbling its earth banks. The water flashed past at a ferocious speed, carrying with it a plank, a car tyre, the corpse of a cat.
Skuli had stopped and was doubled over coughing. His fringe was plastered to his forehead and water dripped down his pale face.
“Come on, Skuli!” Jack’s hands trembled as he reached for his arm. “We have to get Tor.” He was hit by a pain along his legs and a shock of nausea. He felt the shuddering roar of the river through the soles of his feet. Why did Vekell want the arrowhead so badly that he’d wait all these years for it?
They ran on, up the track on to the deserted main street, water swirling round their ankles. Past Skuli’s house, Jack recited to himself between short, stabbing breaths, trying to keep calm. Past the kafé. Past the square. Get up Church Lane.
They reached the kafé and through the window Jack saw paper chains ripped and dangling, the telly screen smashed, chairs and tables overturned. He desperately wanted to check on his mum, and Gran and Gramps. He thought of them lying ill in the house next door. And what about Sno, locked in at Skuli’s? There’s no time, he told himself. Keep moving! Get Tor!
“Kids!” cried Skuli.
Jack pushed Skuli and Emma into a doorway and cautiously they peered out. Figures materialized out of the gloom.
“They’re everywhere,” said Emma. “Look.”
Jack craned forward. “Wait. Only move when I say.”
They stayed where they were, semi-crouched, but the kids showed no signs of leaving. “I was thinking,” whispered Jack, eyeing their movements. “The boat won’t light easily, especially if the wood’s wet. We’ll need something to get it started.”
“We go for the sail,” said Emma. “It’s thin and should catch fast.”
“We need to be sure though. Have a backup.”
“My dad has a big box of firelighters in our garage,” said Emma. She jabbed a thumb. “Five minutes back that way.”
Jack frowned. “There’s no time for us all to go.”
“I’ll go on my own,” said Emma. “While you two get Tor. It makes sense.”
“You’re right about lighting the wood,” Skuli said anxiously. “But we should stay together.”
Jack wiped the rain from his eyes. He didn’t like them splitting up either. “But it is quicker that way.” He squinted down the street. “OK, Emma, we’ll meet at the graveyard. By the church door.”
“I’ll go straight there.” She tightened her hood round her face. “And if I’m late for whatever reason, just go ahead to the museum. I’ll catch up.”
“Be fast,” Jack hissed, his jaw tight, and he watched her dart off into the rain.
Jack nodded at Skuli. “Let’s keep moving.”
They went on, slipping forward from doorway to doorway, but as they neared the square there were voices, excited chatter.
Jack gestured to Skuli to stay back. He edged round the wall and held his breath. Only metres away, sitting on the lowest branch of the big pine tree, sheltered from the downpour, was Lukas, and a smaller boy in a bright red plastic coat.
Lukas gulped some beer from a bottle, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He slipped a cigarette from a half-empty box and lit it.
“If your dad finds out, Lukas!” said the smaller boy with glee.
Lukas sucked on the cigarette and coughed. He grabbed the boy’s ear and twisted it hard so he squealed. “Going to tell, are you? Because if you do, I’ll string you up!”
He shoved the boy away and threw th
e cigarette stub on the floor. It sizzled in a puddle. “But guess who’s the first person I’m going to string up.”
“I know! I know!” the small boy chanted.
Lukas laughed and took another swig of beer. He jumped down from the tree.
More kids appeared from the edges of the square, a lot of them dressed in rain jackets with plastic hats pulled low over their faces. Some of them were dressed up in Festival clothes: the boys in knee-length tunics and helmets, the girls in long dresses that stuck, sodden, to their legs. They congregated round the tree, shouting and laughing.
“We need to get past them,” whispered Jack into Skuli’s ear. They quickly moved into the next doorway. They were about to do the same again when a car with blazing headlights came hurtling along the street and they had to crouch low as the beam swept past them like a searchlight. As the light went by, they sprinted forward and hid behind some bins.
Jack peered out. The car skidded to a stop, beeping its horn, and he saw an older kid smirking at the wheel. The kids clustered round it. They clambered on to the bonnet and the roof with whoops of delight, ripping off the wipers, thumping the metal with their fists.
Jack and Skuli crept past, keeping to the shadows.
The car set off again. Jack winced as several kids were thrown off into the road. They hobbled up, grinning. The car accelerated, water spraying up from the wheel rims, then did a tight swerve, bashing into the side of a house so that a pair of stag antlers crashed to the ground, before reversing noisily and speeding into a wild circle.
Kids dashed out of the way, shrieking, then closed back in for more.
Another car joined the game. Then another. The tyres spun, the engines revved. One car hit a lamppost and a hubcap spun off like a deadly frisbee. The kids were screeching with delight, chanting those same words Jack had heard before:
“Odin’s vengeance! Odin’s vengeance!”
“They’re mad,” said Skuli.
Round and round the square the cars raced, circling the big pine tree in its centre. And then Jack saw it.
Swinging from a branch, the loop of thick rope in a noose.
A car seemed to come at them from nowhere, revving blindly along the road with its mangled wipers. Jack and Skuli sprang to one side and it ploughed on, accelerating, smacking a bin on to its side. In the headlights Jack saw the little boy in the red raincoat, sloshing excitedly in the puddles in the middle of the street.
He’ll be hit!
Jack’s mind kicked into automatic. His legs swept up sprays of water as he broke into a sprint. “Get out of the way!” he screamed, but the beeping horns and revving engines drowned out his voice. He sprang forward, diving sideways, knocking the boy off his feet and into the water.
Skuli splashed down beside him and together they dragged the boy off the road as the car did a wide arc, ready to swing round again.
The boy’s eyelids sprang open, making the two of them start back in surprise. “You’re Jack,” he hissed as he pulled himself up and staggered away, shouting back over his shoulder, “We’re going to hang you.”
Jack and Skuli crouched in a doorway, watching as he ran up the road.
“They can’t really be planning that, can they, Jack?” said Skuli, his voice gone up a pitch.
“We need to get Tor,” Jack muttered, thinking fast. It would only be a matter of seconds before the boy raised the alarm. The kids were driving – why shouldn’t they? He’d driven his dad’s farm truck back home. It’d be way faster than carrying Tor all the way to the museum. “Gran’s van,” he shouted over the water thundering from overflowing gutters. The van was never locked and Gran kept the key in the glove compartment. “It’s parked down at the harbour.”
They broke cover and reached the harbour steps, Jack leaping down them three at a time, Skuli close behind. But at the bottom, they stopped short. The quayside was totally flooded, the pier half submerged. Boats jostled like nervous animals in a pen. Jagged waves rose up and smashed down on the shore, loosening and lifting away clods of soil and stones. Grasping fingers of water pulled away the bigger rocks, then came clawing back for more.
Surrounding the harbour Jack saw dozens of gushing waterfalls as huge amounts of water spilled down the mountain slopes into the bay. Along the shore the row of wooden houses creaked as water rose and fell against them.
They got to Gran’s van. Water lapped the tyres as they pulled open the doors. But Jack paused before getting in. At the far side of the bay something had caught his eye. A movement of rocks, tumbling down the slick wet mountainside, loosening more rocks on the way. A section of cliff was shifting, sliding…
A crack detonated through the air and, as he watched, a whole piece of mountain came right away, hurtling vertically and crashing into the water.
“Get in the van, Skuli,” Jack heard himself say, but neither of them seemed able to move, only stare out across the bay, pinned rigid by the sight. In a flash, Jack remembered the carvings from the standing stone… He knew what was coming next, but still he couldn’t move. He saw the water draw away from the shore as if the tide had gone out suddenly. Rocks were exposed like jagged teeth and boats fell on their sides in the dark mud. Jack heard a hissing sound, like a long, rasping breath, then across the bay he saw a wave rise, like a flap of skin on a gulping grey throat.
A shout went out from behind them and Jack turned to see kids at the top of the steps. The little kid in the red raincoat was with them. Some pointed in their direction; some started running towards them. A car swung down the looping road leading to the harbour, then another. A chant went up. “Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack!”
“Get in, Skuli!” Jack flung himself into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. He found the keys and rammed them into the ignition. The engine growled into life and he shoved it into gear and pressed the accelerator. The steps were a mass of kids. The van shot forward, accelerating with a horrible juddering up the harbour road.
“Move!” he yelled at the kids as he looked in his rear-view mirror at the white line of water – the wave, the tsunami – sweeping towards the shore, and them.
17
PLAGUE OF WATER
And the Youngers’ hate grows fire.
The Ancient Ballad of Isdal
Jack spun the steering wheel and pressed the accelerator, and the van shot forward. Out of the window he saw the wave coming across the bay, a growing line of white.
“Faster!” Skuli shouted, his knuckles gripping the dashboard.
The van climbed, straining round the first bend of the looping road. Further up Jack saw kids’ cars winding their way towards them and slapped his seatbelt into place with one hand. “Hold on!” He forced the van into gear and put his foot down. He heard the engine roar, the vehicle shudder under him.
At the next bend Jack saw the wave sweep closer, a slick grey mass threaded with white, lifting boats vertically and smacking them down as if they were toys. His back tensed against the driver’ seat.
Skuli gave a shout as a car sped towards them, head-on. Jack held the steering wheel tight, keeping the van straight as the car careered at them. “Come on,” he muttered. “Come on.”
At the last second he swerved violently to one side and the kids’ car rocketed past. Skuli was flung against him. Jack righted the wheel. In his rear-view mirror he saw a blaze of red lights as the kids’ car slammed on its brakes and clumsily reversed.
More cars sped down the road. Jack twisted the wheel one way and then the other, weaving round them. He winced as a side mirror smashed off. A bonnet clipped the side of the van, knocking it into a spin.
Jack braked, his seatbelt tight across his chest, but the van skidded on towards the road’s sheer edge. There was the sound of loose stones churning under the tyres as he struggled to keep control. Skuli yelped. The swaying van came to the very edge of the drop, and ground to a shudderin
g stop.
Out of the windscreen Jack saw the wave hit. It smacked into a house, knocking it straight into the bay. The houses round it collapsed, wood walls breaking apart and debris swept forward as the water surged on. Channelled by the narrow harbour valley, the water got faster, rising along the road like stretched grey skin.
“Look at that!” Jack yelled as the car furthest down the slope was peeled off the road and carried away, floating and rotating on the heaving water. The other cars were turning hastily, revving back up the road as the water came gushing round them.
Skuli grabbed hold of the handrail. “How high will it come?”
Jack’s mind raced. Mum, Gran, Gramps, Sno… Not much further, surely, surely? He wrenched the van back into gear, reversed off the cliff edge, and strained up the road. He saw water crash up the stone steps, kids racing to get higher. Sea spray thudded the back window. The steering wheel was slippery with sweat. From behind them, headlight beams reflected in the mirror, dazzling him. A car had escaped the water and was following.
Jack got to the top of the slope and accelerated. He made several sharp turns, doubling back then swerving down a narrow track. He slotted the van between two buildings and killed the lights and engine. Moments later, the kids’ car roared past.
They sat there a while, Skuli resting his head on the door, Jack slumped back in his seat. Slowly, Jack wound down his window, listening to the eerie quiet.
“You did well,” Skuli said at last. He stared ahead, not moving, face pale, and Jack guessed what he was thinking about: the people in those houses; the kids in those cars caught in the wave.
All Jack could manage was, “Carry on?”
He reversed back on to the road and the van crawled forward, the two of them scanning in every direction.
The dark shape of the church loomed against the sky and Jack turned up the lane towards the graveyard, gravel hitting the windscreen.
