Loki's Wolves

by K. L. Armstrong

  Would Fen go with him? She wasn’t sure, and her loyalties were divided. She might be mad at Fen, but he was still Fen—and Matt was the kid who had thrown Fen at the longship. Was that magic, too? She felt like an idiot. They both knew things. Matt wasn’t freaked out about the wolf thing, either. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but right now, the two people who had answers were both staring at her. A new burst of hurt and anger filled her.

  She ignored the hand Matt held out to help her over the side of the ship, and she didn’t say a word as Fen climbed over after her. They crawled across the deck of the ship on their stomachs, keeping themselves as low as possible; the sides of the longship protected them from the worst of the wind and kept them hidden from the wolves.

  Matt fumbled at the lock, taking far too long for her liking.

  The wind ripped at their clothes and hair; rain and hail pelted them. She opened her mouth to say “Hurry,” and the air took her breath away. She snapped her lips closed.

  Behind her, she felt Fen move closer. He had put his body behind her to shelter her from flying branches and hailstones. Because he was blocking her from the storm, his mouth was directly beside her ear. “I wanted to tell you,” he said. “Wasn’t allowed.”

  She didn’t answer. Later, they would have to talk—or yell, more likely—but right now, she couldn’t say anything. If she did, she might start crying, and she wasn’t going to look all wussy in front of the two of them.

  Matt looked back and said something, but all she caught was “Fen, pull.”

  Fen yelled, “What?”

  “Pull,” she shouted, turning to him as she did so.

  Fen glanced behind him, and then he nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw—or with what he didn’t see.

  As her cousin reached past her, she looked back, too, and realized that no one had followed them onto the ship. She wasn’t sure where the wolves had gone, but they weren’t here now. Maybe they’d had the sense to seek shelter, too. Being caught in a tornado could be deadly for a wolf, just as it could for a person.

  Together, Matt and Fen tugged the door open. Matt’s arms were tight as he held on to the door, and Fen had to brace a foot on the wall, but they had the door open. Fen gestured with his head, and even though she couldn’t hear what he was saying, she knew it was some version of You go first.

  She scrambled inside, fumbling in the dark, and felt someone bump into her almost immediately.

  “Sorry,” Matt muttered as he steadied her. “Steps. Be careful.”

  The door crashed shut, taking away any light. She’d already seen that there were steps. They were all standing on a small landing, and another foot in front of her steps descended into the still deeper darkness of the ship. “How many steps?” she asked Matt.

  “Maybe twelve. Just follow me.”

  “You can’t see any better than I can.” She rolled her eyes, even though neither of them could see. Boys had some pretty ridiculous ideas about what girls could do. She might not be able to wrestle—or turn into a wolf—but she was just as capable of climbing down the steps as they were. Unless… “Can either of you see?”

  Fen snorted. “My vision is better than regular people’s, but when it’s this dark, I’d need to be a wolf to see.”

  “Right,” she murmured. She started to laugh at the strangeness of… well, everything today, but stopped herself. Fen was prickly on the best of days, and he was as likely to think she was laughing at him as not. The sound that started as a laugh ended like a cry.

  “Are you hurt?” Fen sounded less worried than he would have if Matt weren’t there, but she knew him well enough to know that he was alarmed.

  “I’m fine.” She sighed. It was hard to stay mad at him sometimes; he’d made it his personal goal in life to look out for her, to be there whenever she needed anything. He was a combination of her best friend and brother. She tried to push the hurt further away and said, “Bruises, but that’s all. I think. You two?”

  Matt shrugged. “Like going a few rounds in the ring. No big deal.”

  Fen snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  Matt ignored him and said, “Just feel with your foot. We’re right behind you.”

  “Let me pass,” Fen demanded. “I can go first in case—”

  “I got it,” she cut him off, and eased her foot forward. The only way he was going to stop trying to shelter her from everything was for her to push him more.

  Between the darkness of the storm and the lack of lights inside the ship, she had only her sense of touch to guide her. She made her way down the steps, counting as she went.

  “Twelve,” she said when she reached the bottom.

  She heard and felt them reach the bottom, too. They stood there in the dark, not speaking. Behind them and above them, she could hear the pinging and thumping of things hitting the wood, and the roar of the storm outside. She wasn’t sure if the boys were scared, but now that they were out of the storm and away from the wolves, the fear of what could have happened hit her, and she shuddered. We’re fine, she reminded herself. Right now, we’re just fine.

  She felt around with her hands, but she wasn’t sure what would be down here. Was it storage? Things she’d knock over? And even if it wasn’t, did she want to fumble around in the dark and then have to fumble back to the steps when the storm ended? She ended up standing still.

  She hated waiting in the dark while a storm tore around outside. Twisters were scary in a way that blizzards weren’t. They had those in South Dakota, too, but those mostly just meant school was canceled or delayed. Sometimes, there were whiteouts, where the wind blew the snow, and everything was a white blur outside. That was the thing, though: it was outside, and she was safe inside. Tornados were different. Inside wasn’t the same sort of protection from a storm that destroyed buildings. She shivered.

  Immediately, Fen’s arm went around her. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get out of here.”

  She nodded even though he couldn’t see it and then whispered, “I’m mad at you.”

  He growled, and now that she knew he was a wolf sometimes, it sounded somehow more like a real growl. “There are rules. I couldn’t tell you unless you changed, too.”

  Quietly, she asked, “Does the whole family change?”

  Fen was quiet for a minute. “No, only some of us.” He butted his head into hers, and for the first time, she realized that the gesture was one an animal would make. She’d known it was an odd thing that the Brekkes all did, but she hadn’t made the connection before now. Their version of affection was because they were part animal.

  When she didn’t respond, Fen added, “Don’t be mad. Please?”

  Matt’s voice saved her from answering. “We can sit over here.”

  There was no way to tell how long they would have to wait. They were all wet and cold, and once the storm left, they still had to deal with werewolves—Were they werewolves? Or were they just wolves? She wasn’t sure the term even mattered. “So are you a Raider, too, then? That’s what they all are, right? The Raiders are all wolves.”

  “I’m not one of them,” Fen spat. “I follow my own rules, not theirs. They’re wulfenkind, too, but I’m not joining them. I pay my dues… and yours, so I don’t have to join them.”

  “My dues?”

  She felt him shrug next to her, but all he said was, “No big thing. Once we figure out if you’re going to change, you’ll either pay, join, or go lone-wolf—like Uncle Stig.”

  “Dad is… that’s why he’s always gone?” Laurie felt like everything she’d known was suddenly different. Maybe it wouldn’t have made things easier, but so much made sense now that she knew the family secret. “He could pay them and stay here? Why doesn’t—” She stopped herself. They had other things than her father to deal with right now, but she couldn’t help adding, “I’m not joining them. I can tell you that… and neither are you, Fen Brekke. You think I’m mad now? If you join them, I’ll show you mad.”

  He didn’t answer, but
he gave her a brief one-armed hug. She’d told him she cared about him. That was all Fen ever really needed when he was worried: to know she cared.

  A click in the dark was followed by a flash of fire. In Fen’s hand was a lighter. It wasn’t exactly him saying Let’s change the subject, but it did the trick all the same.

  “How long have you had that?” Matt asked.

  Fen shrugged.

  The light it cast was scant, but she could see stacks of boxes and more than a few cobwebs. Nothing particularly interesting, and then the light went out.

  “Did you see any candles?” Matt asked. “Or a lantern?”

  “We could burn one of the boxes,” Fen suggested.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Matt said. “Give me the lighter, and I’ll look for—”

  “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, Thorsen.”

  “If we’re going to work together—”

  “I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Fen interrupted. “I saved your butt with the Raiders, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “You saved me? Were we at the same fight?”

  “Stop. Just stop,” Laurie interrupted. “You’re both better than the other one. Now, we can stay here and wait for the monsters to—”

  “Wolves,” Fen muttered. “Not monsters.”

  “Well, since you didn’t even tell me, how would I know that? And they weren’t being friendly, were they? How would I know what you act like as a wolf, since you hid it from me?” She poked him repeatedly as she spoke.

  Fen flicked the lighter again and looked at her.

  “You lied to me.” Laurie folded her arms over her chest.

  “Um, planning?” Matt reminded them quietly before her glare-fest with Fen could turn into an ugly argument. “Laurie’s right. We need a plan.” He took a breath. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but we need to work together. Quick version: Ragnarök is coming. We have to find the rest of the gods’ descendants. We have two already—I’m the stand-in for Thor, and Fen is for Loki. That’s what the Norns told me tonight.”

  “The Norns?” Laurie interjected.

  “They’re the ladies in charge of everyone’s fate,” Matt said. “I talked to them, and that’s how I knew I needed to talk to Fen.” He stopped, took a breath, and added, “Look, I know Loki and Thor weren’t always friends in the myths, but they could work together.” He paused and turned to Fen. “I’m guessing you know the Brekkes are descended from Loki.”

  The lighter clicked off, so they couldn’t see each other again. Laurie was glad they couldn’t see the shock on her face. Loki? The god Loki? From the myths? She pinched her arm to make sure this wasn’t like her weird fish dream. It hurt, but she was definitely awake—and apparently the only one surprised that their ancestors were real gods.

  “Yeah, and that Thorsens don’t think we know.” Fen sounded smug. “Guess you didn’t know some of us kept Loki’s skill in shape-shifting, either. We might have only kept the wolf, but it’s a lot more useful than most of Loki’s shapes.”

  Matt let it drop. “So we need to find the other descendants and stop Ragnarök. If we don’t do something, the world will end. They’re not here in Blackwell, so we need to go find them. Are you in?”

  Laurie tried to not freak out over the things they were talking about. It was bad enough that Fen had hidden that he was a wolf, but then Matt said the god thing and the whole world-is-ending thing. She’d thought the worst trouble they had to face was theft of a shield. These were much bigger problems. When she could finally speak, she asked, “Why were the wolves after us?”

  Neither boy said anything for a moment. Then Matt said, “Maybe they know we’re the god stand-ins.”

  “Or they’re just out starting trouble,” Fen added. “You’re a Thorsen, and that means you’re the enemy to wulfenkind.”

  “I’m not your enemy, Fen.”

  At that, Fen flicked the lighter on again. “Why should I believe you about any of it?”

  “I don’t lie,” Matt said simply.

  “Fen, I think we can trust him,” Laurie started.

  The lighter went out.

  Laurie knew that Matt was telling the truth. Somehow, it just made sense to her. Believing it was as easy as believing that she and Fen were descendants of the long-dead god Loki. She wasn’t sure why she was so sure, but she was. The question was how she could convince her stubborn cousin.

  Before Laurie could say anything else, though, Fen said, “Fine. If it’s a choice between working with you or the world ending, I can put up with you for a while.”

  Although Laurie knew Fen was trying to sound like he didn’t really care, she knew him. That was the voice he always had before he was about to go and do something colossally stupid. It meant that he expected something crazy or dangerous to happen. Proof positive that he expected true trouble if he joined up with Matt came in Fen’s very next sentence: “We need to get Laurie home first and—”

  “Are you joking?” All of her anger and frustration came roaring back. She shoved him so hard he fell sideways.

  Fen flicked the lighter on and glared at her.

  “No,” she snapped. “Don’t even start! You can’t expect me to stay here.”

  He sat up, lighter still flickering with its small flame, and began his list of objections. “Come on, Laurie. You’re not the one who has to do this. It’s dangerous, and you don’t have a way to protect yourself.” He jabbed Matt in the arm. “Thorsen has his knockout thing. I have teeth and claws. You’re just a girl, and Uncle Stig will kill me if you get hurt.”

  “You’re not going anywhere without me,” Laurie insisted. Fen might think he was keeping her safe by leaving her behind, but she knew that he wasn’t safe without her. Between his temper and his recklessness, there was no way he could avoid trouble when he was here in Blackwell. Once he was on the road running from other wolves and who knows what—or who—else, he’d be in trouble she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

  The lighter died again.

  “Why would I risk you getting hurt?” Fen asked. She heard the fear in his voice that he always thought he hid, and she understood, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t letting fear—his or hers—stop her. He needed her.

  Laurie tried to think of an argument. She felt like she was missing something obvious, and then it hit her. “I met Odin,” she blurted. “Oh. Wow. I thought he was just a weirdo, but I met Odin. Remember? I told you I met a stranger who acted like he knew me.” She filled them in on her whole conversation with Odin and was surprised by how quiet Fen still was when she was done. “Fen?”

  Fen flicked the lighter on one more time.

  “I’m coming with you, Fen,” she said. “I know what Odin looks like, and he said I’d see him again, so I’m supposed to come.”

  Fen opened his mouth to say something, no doubt an objection, but she folded her arms over her chest and used the one thing she knew he couldn’t ignore: “What if the Raiders come back, and I’m here alone? They know who I am, and I’m not a wolf. How am I supposed to fight them on my own?”

  “I don’t have a problem with it,” Matt said. “We can take care of her.”

  “Take care of me?” Laurie sputtered.

  “Yeah,” Fen snarled. “If you’re coming, next time there’s a fight you stay out of it. If they’re up there right now, you let Thorsen and me handle it. Or you can stay here, where it’s safer.”

  “Safer?” Laurie echoed. “Did you listen to anything I said?”

  “About as well as you did to what I said,” Fen muttered.

  They sat in tense silence for a few moments until Matt pointed out, “Sounds like the storm’s ended. Let’s get out of here.”

  Cautiously, they started up the stairs. Matt was in front, and Fen was behind her.

  When they stepped outside, they stopped and looked at the destruction all around. A lot of the shields on the side of the ship were thrashed. Trees were uprooted. A car was overturned. The stop sign at the intersec
tion had been flung halfway down the block.

  Laurie didn’t see any wolves, but people were already appearing, and she wasn’t sure which ones were the ones who became wolves. Fen hadn’t technically agreed to her coming, but she wasn’t going to wait for him to stop being difficult. She looked at him and said, “We need to get out of here before the wolves find us. We’ll stop at home, grab some clothes and whatever money we have, and then figure out where to go.” She glanced at Matt, who was now squirming. “Look, if you’d rather tell your dad, we can—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “It’s just… I can’t go home.”

  Laurie and Fen exchanged a look.

  “You’re a Thorsen. Just walk in, get your stuff, and pretend like you’re going to the gym or something.” Fen shook his head. “I know you’ve probably never told a lie in your perfect life, but I can talk you through it. Easy as falling off a pedestal.”

  Laurie hid her sigh of relief. If Fen was focused on Matt, he’d stop being a pain about her going with them. She felt a little bad for Matt, but better Matt having to put up with Fen’s teasing than her needing to fight about being left behind in Blackwell.

  “I’m okay with lying, Fen,” Matt was saying. “It’s just… My family…” He took a deep breath. “They don’t expect me to kill the Midgard Serpent. They expect me to die. And, apparently, they’re okay with that.”

  For a moment, no one spoke. Fen’s characteristic rudeness vanished, and Laurie wasn’t at all sure what to say. The Thorsens were perfect; Matt had a family, a big family, who treated him like he could do no wrong. Carefully, she repeated, “They’re okay with you dying.”

  “They told me I was going to be the one to stop Ragnarök, but I overheard my grandfather”—he paused, and then he spoke really quickly, all his words running together, as he looked at them both—“when I was with one of the Norns. My grandfather and the town council want Ragnarök to happen. Granddad wants me to fight the Midgard Serpent. He wants me to defeat it—so the monsters don’t take over the world—but he expects me to die trying, just like in the myth. Then an ice age will come, and the world will be reborn, fresh and new.”