by Alan Early
Loki eventually stopped laughing, to Max’s relief.
‘Time to address my people, Max,’ he said. ‘Or should I say “slaves”!’
He stood on the Jormungand’s head, steady as a rock.
‘People of Dublin!’ he cried, his voice carrying magically over the street. ‘Welcome to the end of the world. This is how it begins. The floods will come and annihilate you all. Let the flooding begi–’
‘Loki!’
The voice came from down the street, towards the river, and Loki recognised it instantly. He spotted Arthur standing in front of a statue on a high plinth, managing to avoid the flooded street below. He was wearing the black uniform the corpses had been wearing in the cavern. The pendant hung around his neck and he held the Viking hammer in his right hand.
‘Arthur!’ cried Max in delight.
‘Well lookee who it is,’ said Loki in a sing-song voice. ‘So you managed to escape, Arthur. Well done. That’s commendable. You should be proud.’
‘Shut up, Loki!’
The Jormungand screeched at Arthur. Loki calmed it, rubbing the side of its belly.
‘Oh, Arthur, why so angry?’ he said.
‘I’m giving you one chance,’ Arthur said. ‘Let Max go and undo this mess. Then you and the World Serpent can go away, somewhere where there are no people. And never come back.’
Loki laughed. ‘One chance, eh? And what if I say no?’
‘Then I’ll defeat you.’
‘Really? You and what army?’
‘That one!’ cried Arthur.
At that, the dead army attacked. Before Loki and the Jormungand knew what was happening, the Vikings were firing arrows at them. The iron-tipped weapons soared through the air. They seemed to hang there for a moment before falling. But each one of them bounced off the serpent’s tough scales. Max put up his arms to protect himself from the arrows but slipped backwards in doing so. As he fell, he grabbed onto Loki’s leg but only ended up pulling him down with him.
The two of them plunged towards the flood. More rain fell. And more arrows flew towards the Jormungand. One of the arrows was knocked off its course by one of the heavier drops. It sliced across Max’s right thigh. He opened his mouth to scream, but he hit the water before any sound could emerge. Loki followed him into the flood.
Arthur saw what had happened to Max from his place on the plinth. He waved frantically at Bjorn, pointed at the small figure who had momentarily surfaced but then sunk again and yelled, ‘He can’t swim. Help him!’
Bjorn nodded and grunted orders to the soldiers. Half of them continued to fire arrows towards the serpent, while the other half rowed the boat around the Spire to where Max had fallen into the water. Bjorn threw his helmet to the deck then dived into the water. Arthur watched with bated breath.
Meanwhile, an arrow had managed to pierce one of the Jormungand’s wings. The creature shrieked in pain and plunged downwards, but just before it hit the water it started to flap its damaged wing again, breaking its fall and landing gently on the surface of the flood. Seeing his opportunity, one sword-wielding Viking raced across the boat straight towards the Jormungand. He leaped off the side of the vessel and onto the beast’s back, leaning over and plunging his blade deep into the serpent’s tender underbelly. With another ear-piercing cry, the Jormungand flicked the Viking off with its tail, then crept back up the surface of the Spire, climbing this time rather than flying. The other Vikings continued to fire arrows at the retreating beast.
Bjorn found Max under the water, struggling to kick with his injured leg. A steady flow of bright red blood flowed out of the wound. The Viking clamped his hand over the cut to try and stop the bleeding then hooked his other arm round Max’s chest. He kicked his legs and swam back to the surface. A couple of soldiers in the boat spotted Bjorn and the boy and reached over the edge to help them in. Max looked around him, taking in his surroundings as quickly as he could, then wrapped his arms around Bjorn in a tight hug.
From the plinth, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, but he barely had time to celebrate as he heard a terrible crashing sound behind him. He turned around to find Loki standing there, back in his true form. He’d ripped the statue off the plinth and raised it high above his head.
‘Hi there!’ he said cheerfully as he made to drop the statue on Arthur. Arthur was quick, however, and leapt backwards off the plinth. The statue smashed into pieces on impact just as Arthur grabbed hold of one of the ridges carved into the stone of the plinth. The hammer clattered out of his grip and into the water. He couldn’t see where it had gone with the force of the raindrops causing the surface to leap and ripple.
The Vikings, meanwhile, continued firing arrows at the Jormungand, but only a few of them were sinking into its flesh. It screeched with each new wound, but the damage did not seem to be causing it any major problems. Bjorn put his helmet on Max’s head; it was far too big for him but at least it would save him from any really critical injuries.
‘Max! Max! Over here!’ Max heard Ash’s voice calling him. He turned around and spotted her standing in the open window of the bookshop, waving at him.
‘Ash!’ he called back.
‘Get under cover, Max!’
He nodded and looked around him. He found an abandoned metal shield, round, with the image of the Jormungand painted on it. He curled up on the deck and pulled the shield over himself, just in time.
Shrieking as it went, the Jormungand pushed off the top of the Spire and swooped downwards. It soared over the Viking boat, its wide mouth open, swallowing a handful of the soldiers whole as it went. Max could feel the force of the wind as it passed overhead. Some of the other soldiers swiped at it with their swords as it flew over, while the rest fired more arrows into its side. It retreated back upwards, soaring higher into the sky, hovering just above the Spire and out of reach of the arrows.
Meanwhile, Arthur was still clinging to the plinth when he heard Loki take a step towards him.
‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘The great warrior falls so early? That’s unfortunate.’ He thinks I’m in the water, Arthur realised. Loki stood right above him now, not even noticing him.
‘Tricked you!’ cried Arthur. He reached up and grabbed Loki’s leg with one hand, pulling it out from under him. Loki landed heavily on his back and was momentarily stunned.
Arthur used the time to pull himself back up onto the plinth and as he knelt on it, panting to regain his breath, he noticed that the Jormungand, which had been hovering steadily in the sky, was plummeting downwards. But as Loki pulled himself back to his feet, the serpent suddenly pulled up from its unexpected dive and regained its original position over the Spire. Arthur looked down at Loki, wondering if the events were connected.
‘You lied to us from day one,’ Arthur said to him. ‘You almost got us killed by drowning, cave-ins, explosions and being eaten by a giant snake. You put my father in the hospital. And you want to destroy the world. This ends here.’
‘Oh, come on, Arthur!’ said Loki, smiling. ‘Before you met me, you were weak. You were afraid of any adventure, you were shy, you wouldn’t even speak up in class. But now, now you’re leading an army! Granted, it’s an army that can’t possibly win, but you should still be thanking me.’
Before Arthur could react, Loki grabbed the collar of his tunic with one hand and lifted him off his feet. Arthur clawed at the fist but Loki was too strong and his vice-like grip wouldn’t loosen. As he struggled, Arthur felt the pendant slapping against his chest.
‘Just give up, Arthur – you can’t beat me.’
‘Oh yes, I can,’ he said, grabbing the pendant, snapping its cord and flinging it at Loki. The Trickster God dropped Arthur when he realised what he was doing but it was too late – the pendant hit him full in the face. He was blasted backwards in a flash of green and onto the roof of a nearby newspaper vendor’s metal hutch. In the sky, the Jormungand was also thrown backwards by an invisible force and screeched in rage.
It suddenly h
it Arthur – Loki and the Jormungand were somehow linked. He wasn’t sure how or why, but he was sure he could use that knowledge to help defeat them both. As Loki was squirming on the hut roof in pain, clutching his face, the World Serpent was writhing in the sky. Arthur picked up the pendant where it had bounced off Loki and tied it back around his neck. He looked down into the water and up at the dark-green rain clouds. He stepped back to the far edge of the plinth and then, with a deep breath, ran forward and jumped. As he soared over the floodwater, he closed his eyes, certain for a split second that he wasn’t going to make it. But his feet landed right on the edge of the roof of the newspaper vendor’s hutch.
‘That really hurt!’ complained Loki, looking up from where he lay. Arthur stood over him, just as Loki had stood over Arthur a few minutes ago.
‘You should leave now,’ Arthur said. ‘Just go. Run away.’
Loki smiled as the green light flashed out of his eyes and stood up, towering over Arthur.
‘That’s a nice offer,’ he said, ‘but I’ll have to refuse.’ He picked Arthur up by the neck of his tunic and threw him over his head the way some people would throw away a ball of paper.
Arthur didn’t so much as splash into the water as crash. The tarmac scratched Arthur’s cheek when he bounced off the road underneath, cutting it open. He wanted to yell in pain but was worried about losing oxygen. Using what was left of his strength, he struggled back to the surface. The rain seemed to have gotten heavier now. The Vikings weren’t really getting anywhere with the Jormungand: their arrows either fell short or bounced off its scales, and those that did pierce their target were still having little effect. Loki had returned to the plinth, which was higher than the roof of the hutch and still largely water free.
For a moment Arthur felt total despair – they were losing and losing badly. Then he heard Loki call out to the Jormungand, and when he looked at the creature Arthur saw that it was still hovering right above the Spire – the Spire with its sharp tip piercing the sky like a spear. It was bigger and stronger than anything the original Viking army would have had, and might be able to penetrate those tough scales. An idea flashed into his head – if he could only knock Loki down now, while he wasn’t looking, and through that link make the serpent fall, then there was a chance that at least one of their opponents could be dealt with permanently. He looked around in desperation, but he had nothing to hit the god with.
Suddenly, Arthur felt something in his hand under the water. He lifted it out. The hammer was there, right in his grasp at the time when he needed it most. It felt lighter somehow and he rubbed the handle. He briefly wondered if something had guided the weapon to him, but then quickly turned his thoughts to the task at hand.
Arthur looked directly at Loki on the plinth. He had to hit him just right to make him fall straight down. He concentrated, then reached the hammer back behind his head and launched it with all the force he could manage. It tumbled through the air, turning as it went, and hit Loki square in the back, between the shoulder blades. With an anguished groan the god fell face forward into the flood.
As Loki fell, so did the Jormungand. It crashed straight onto the Spire, which pierced its scales and went right through its cold heart. The Vikings stopped firing their arrows, Max came out from behind his shield, the people in the buildings stared through the windows and Arthur watched in awe as the creature screamed and writhed in agony, its wings flapping helplessly and its feet scrabbling at the air. After a moment the struggling subsided and finally the serpent was still, as Loki, floundering in the water, watched helplessly.
‘No!’ screeched Loki as the serpent died. Hot, salty tears ran down his scarred face. ‘Nooooo!’ His voice echoed off the buildings around them.
The body of the World Serpent shuddered before evaporating into a bright-green light. The light blazed so brilliantly that everyone had to look away. When they opened their eyes and looked back, all trace of the Jormungand was gone.
The rain had stopped also, which Arthur, still bobbing about in the water, was relieved to find. Or, rather, it had stopped momentarily because suddenly the drops started to flow upwards. Drop after drop, puddle after puddle, flood after flood: all the water in the street flowed up into the sky, retreating back into the green clouds. It flowed around Arthur as it went and he felt himself slowly sinking to the ground. It was like a bath emptying, only the bath in this case was the city of Dublin.
There was so much water under the Viking boat that it managed to pull the boat upwards with it. Bjorn, Max and the other Viking soldiers jumped out and into the lowering water. They watched as the waters pulled their boat towards the clouds.
As all the water retreated and the last drops flew back into the green clouds, the boat had nothing to suspend it any more. It fell back down to earth. The dead army ran out of its way, Bjorn carrying Max on his shoulders. The boat crashed onto the tarmac like the helicopter had earlier, exploding in a mess of wood splinters and metal.
The sky above was clear again and the sun was shining on the street as people started pouring out of the buildings. Arthur joined the army and Ash ran to them. Without a word, she hugged Max tightly, then turned to Arthur and flung her arms around him.
‘You did it!’ she said. ‘You saved us all!’ She kissed him on the cheek. When she pulled back from him, they both blushed and wouldn’t meet each other’s eyes.
‘Not just me,’ he managed eventually, ‘them too.’ He pointed to the surviving Vikings who were looking forlornly at their ruined boat.
‘Hey,’ interrupted Max, ‘where’s Loki?’
They looked around, searching the faces of the growing crowd: no sign of Loki in any of his guises anywhere. The only remaining trace of him was the hammer that had mysteriously reappeared at Arthur’s feet.
‘I don’t know,’ Arthur replied as he picked up the hammer, ‘but all that matters now is that we won.’ The three of them hugged each other as the spectators started to applaud.
Among the spectators was a young mother pushing a baby in a buggy. The baby – Little Aaron – had been crying all through the ordeal and only now, after the applause, did he stop wailing. She pinched his cheek adoringly.
‘You’re very quiet all of a sudden,’ she said as she pushed the buggy away from the crowd, finally able to go home.
What she didn’t know was that the real Little Aaron had been hidden behind a parked car and was crying his eyes out. The baby in the buggy heard the wailing and grinned.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It didn’t take Arthur or Ash long to work out what to do with the dead army. Now that their boat and home for the past thousand years had been destroyed, it should have been a problem. But as it happened, Arthur, Ash and the boy they’d known as Will had visited the perfect place about a week beforehand.
Due to the destruction and inevitable confusion following the Jormungand’s attack, the city of Dublin was more or less closed for business: no shops, museums or schools opened. So the dead army really had no problem climbing over the fake stone wall into the Viking Experience. Arthur, Ash and Max led them around the empty recreation village, showing them the little huts they could live in.
‘As long as you don’t move, just like those mannequins, when there are people about, you should be fine,’ Arthur explained. ‘No one will suspect that you’re real Vikings at all. Just don’t have any wild parties!’
Bjorn nodded and grunted his thanks.
‘We’ll come and visit you,’ promised Arthur.
The entire army stood to attention and saluted the three children. They turned to leave but Arthur had one thing still on his mind.
‘Bjorn?’ he asked. ‘I had a dream. And they said in it that when Loki was to escape it would mean Ragnarok. Do you know what that is – Ragnarok?’
Fear had crept into Bjorn’s eyes at the mention of the word. He sadly nodded.
‘What is it, Bjorn?’
Bjorn opened his mouth and tried to form the words, but only grunts
came out. He stood there looking frustrated until Ash had a brainwave. ‘Pen and paper, we need a pen and paper. He can write it down.’
Frantically they patted down their pockets but all they came up with was a soggy piece of tissue in Ash’s pocket – no pen or pencil. Then one of the other Viking soldiers appeared with a piece of burnt stick. Bjorn took the stick and used the blackened end to draw some runes on the ground. Arthur looked at the runes and clutched the pendant in his hand. The other two children looked at him expectantly. ‘It says the end of the world,’ he said, then added with a rueful smile, ‘again.’
Arthur, Ash and Max arrived home a couple of hours later, having retrieved their bikes from outside the Metro site. The Barry family were sitting around the living-room TV when they came in, still in their pyjamas, glued to the news.
‘Have you seen this?’ exclaimed Mr Barry. ‘They’re saying on the news that some giant snake thing attacked the city.’
‘Hold on,’ said Stace, suspiciously eyeing-up Arthur’s tunic, ‘where have you lot been?’
‘Yes, actually!’ said Mrs Barry, tearing herself away from the TV. ‘Where have you been? And what’s wrong with your leg, Max? Is that blood? And Arthur, what happened to your face?’
The three children looked at each other, then at the adults, then told the story they’d rehearsed in unison.
‘We went for an early game of football and a dog took our ball and we chased it, but Arthur tripped and fell and scratched his face and the dog bit Max’s leg.’
‘What?’ shrieked Mrs Barry. ‘Whose dog? I’ve a good mind to call the police –’
‘Calm down, Mom,’ said Ash, as Max said, ‘I’m fine, really. It’s not that bad.’
‘We didn’t recognise the dog, Mrs Barry,’ said Arthur. ‘I think it may have been a stray, and it ran off after we got the ball back.’
‘Well, if you’re certain. But that bite looks like it might need stitches, Max. And probably a tetanus shot as well.’ Max groaned at the thought of an injection. Mrs Barry pointed to Arthur and Ash. ‘You two go and get cleaned up and I’ll take Max to the hospital. Arthur, be sure and clean that cut properly.’