* * *
With Laika practically super-glued to his heels, Heimdall stood close to his father as the clan fanned out around the Tree. He watched the Vikings stream onto the battlefield from the woods on either side, and although centuries of training screamed at him to launch into the fracas, he knew he had to stand his ground.
The Valkyries had already distracted the Berserkers away from seven of the bulldozers. Tariq and Bonnie rushed in to climb aboard one of the abandoned machines. They started it up and lurched forward, trying to navigate directly into the paths of the other dozers to divert them away from the Tree.
Heimdall scanned the young White Oaks and the forest beyond. “Any sign of the Fenris Wolf?” he called to his father.
Odin shook his head. “He’s close. I can feel him.”
Heimdall spotted Loki ducking into the old-growth forest off to his left. Laika whined.
“To the Yggdrasil,” Heimdall commanded her sternly. Laika didn’t move. “Now!” he shouted, and Laika turned reluctantly to creep toward the World Tree, dodging arrows and flying saplings as she went.
Satisfied with Laika’s retreat, Heimdall made a run for the surrounding forest. He didn’t like turning his back on the Tree even for a second, but there was no good reason for Loki not to be standing with them against Managarm.
Ignoring the shouts, screams, droning bulldozers, and random football cheers coming from the battle raging behind him, Heimdall kept his eyes trained on Loki and wove quickly through what was left of the stand of young trees. The sounds of the battlefield dampened as he stepped deeper into the old-growth forest, and Heimdall slowed his pace.
Heimdall crept silently behind Loki and hid behind the wide trunk of a Giant Sequoia. Then his blood ran cold when he heard Loki call to Fenrir.
Heimdall crouched low beside the tree, ready to spring into action if he caught sight of the Fenris Wolf. If he could take out Fenrir before he made his way to Odin . . .
“You’ll have to go through me first, my son,” Loki whispered.
Heimdall sat up straight and frowned. What was Loki up to? Before Heimdall had a chance to complete his thought, he felt hot breath on the back of his neck.
“You cannot stop me,” Fenrir’s voice growled low in Heimdall’s ear.
Heimdall spun around on his knees to face Fenrir and was immediately pinned against the tree. Fenrir bared his white teeth and hissed. “Ragnarok.”
“You have a choice!” Heimdall gripped the hairy wrists that held him in place. “You don’t have to do this!”
Fenrir snarled and snapped his razor-sharp teeth in Heimdall’s face. Then he opened his mouth and lowered his face slowly to Heimdall’s neck.
“Stop!”
Fenrir’s head shot back, and Heimdall swiveled around to see Loki standing just behind him.
“It was my decision to imprison you!” Loki pleaded. “It was the only way to keep you alive.”
Fenrir narrowed his eyes at Loki and growled. “My feud is not with you, father.” He turned back to Heimdall and grinned.
Heimdall looked deep into Fenrir’s fierce blue eyes and had no doubt that the Randulfr meant to eviscerate him. “Fenrir,” his voice quavered, but before he could utter another syllable, Fenrir slammed Heimdall’s head back against the tree and tore through the forest.
Blinking furiously to clear his head, Heimdall staggered to his feet. Loki grabbed his arms to help him up, but Heimdall pointed a stern finger in Loki’s face. “We are going to talk about this—”
“I am not working with Managarm,” Loki responded calmly, still holding onto Heimdall to help keep him steady.
“We’ll see about that.” Heimdall pushed him away and ran, somewhat off-balance, back toward the battlefield.
Breaking through the trees, Heimdall sped across the decimated stand, dodging the saplings that were still rooted in place and leaping over those that lay in ruin on the ground. He narrowly missed being shot through by almost an entire quiver of arrows, though he eluded the remaining bulldozers easily enough. He just kept his eyes focused on his father and the Tree.
A few yards short of reaching Odin, Heimdall skidded to a halt when a Berserker planted himself squarely in his path. The young man’s Reed College sweatshirt was coated with blood, dirt, and what looked curiously like whipped cream and raspberry sprinkles. He brandished a javelin, twirling it overhead like a champion majorette with a baton, and then thrust it directly at Heimdall’s face, stopping just short of impaling him through the nose.
“Move aside,” Heimdall barked at the Berserker, but the young warrior just laughed.
The Berserker crouched low, preparing his assault. Just as he pulled back on the javelin, an uprooted sapling sailed roots-first over Heimdall’s shoulder and hit the Berserker squarely in the face.
Heimdall spun on his heel to find Loki standing a short distance away. The dark god shrugged almost apologetically. Heimdall turned and ran to Odin.
“Fenrir!” Heimdall shouted over the din. “He’s here!”
A blast of blue light shot between Heimdall and his father, heading away from the Tree. Heimdall and Odin immediately jumped farther apart, then looked back at the Yggdrasil to find Frigga and Freya kneeling by the base of the Tree, their arms extended forcefully outward.
“What in the blazes of Muspellheim do you think you’re doing?” Odin bellowed at his wife. “Are you working for the Moon Dog now?”
Frigga tilted her head in exasperation and gestured toward their target—a smoking, overturned bulldozer whose occupants were scrambling out to stomp their feet in frustration and howl at the sky.
“Not my fault you weren’t paying attention,” Frigga called out to her husband.
Valhalla Page 58