Odin's Ravens (The Blackwell Pages)

by K. L. Armstrong

  When his grandfather announced that Ragnarök was coming and Matt would be “Thor’s champion”—to take Thor’s place in battle—Matt had been… well, he’d like to say honored, but terrified was a better word. He knew everyone was counting on him, though, so he’d accepted his role and had been ready, to train, to fight, to win. Then he’d overheard his grandfather and the other elders saying they didn’t expect Matt to defeat the Midgard Serpent. They actually wanted him to lose. Because if he lost, Fimbulwinter would come, and the world would be reborn, fresh and new… after nearly everyone on it died.

  Matt still couldn’t imagine how his grandfather could want such a thing. But he sure wasn’t going to help it happen. So when he’d been sent to find the other descendants of the North, he’d taken Laurie and Fen and headed out.

  “Brrr,” Laurie said, shivering. “Does anyone else feel that?”

  “Yeah,” Fen said, looking at her worriedly. “We should get going soon.”

  He glanced toward the city, and Matt knew he was thinking about Baldwin. Their friend was the descendant of Balder, the most popular of the gods. According to the myths, after Balder’s death, the gods went to Hel but failed to get him back, and that was the start of Ragnarök. That’s why they were here. To change the myth. To get Baldwin back. To stop Ragnarök.

  Matt looked at the distant ruined city. Yes, as Thor’s champion, stopping Ragnarök was his priority. But as Matt Thorsen, he just kept thinking about Baldwin.

  “We should go,” he said.

  “In a few minutes.” Laurie rubbed her arms again and shivered. “You know what we need? A campfire.”

  “Those fire giants gave off plenty of heat,” Matt teased. “We could go back and play with them for a while.”

  Laurie shuddered. “No thank you. I just wish my powers included fire-starting.”

  “I bet the twins could do it,” Matt said quietly, staring into the middle of the circle.

  Fen snorted. “I doubt it. They were useless. We’ll find better replacements.”

  Laurie glanced at Matt, her expression saying she knew Fen was wrong. Even Fen knew he was wrong—Matt could tell by his blustery tone, as Fen tried to convince himself they were better off without Ray and Reyna, the descendants of Frey and Freya. Fen hadn’t liked the twins much, but their magic had been useful, and they’d finally seemed to be making an effort to fit in with the group. Then Baldwin died, and the twins decided they weren’t all that interested in saving the world after all. Not if it meant traveling to the afterlife. And certainly not if it could mean dying themselves.

  “Okay,” Matt said. “We really do need to get moving. Are you up to it, Laurie?”

  She nodded, and they set out.

  They walked for what seemed like hours until finally the city began to take form, and soon they could see the massive gates blocking their path.

  “The gates to Hel,” Matt murmured. “They say that once you pass through, you can never come out.”

  “So are we going to stand at the gates and yell for Helen instead?” Fen asked, sounding halfway serious.

  Matt managed a wry smile. “I wish.”

  As they approached, they had to pick their way through ruined buildings. They ducked through doorways and climbed over rubble, and they were just about to crawl under rubble when Fen lifted his head and inhaled sharply.

  “Smell something?” Matt said.

  Fen’s Loki-power was the ability to shape-shift into a wolf, and he had a better sense of smell even in human form.

  “Nah, just thought I—”

  Laurie cut him off with a cry. “Matt! Watch—!”

  Something grabbed Matt by the seat of his pants. He flew into the air, all four limbs working madly. Then, whatever had him let go, and he sailed onto a pile of rocks. Fresh pain exploded from every inch of his body.

  Matt flipped over and looked up into a pair of eyes. Two pairs, actually, one right over the other—four red eyes glowering from matted black fur. Then the creature’s jaws parted and white fangs flashed as it roared—the same roar Matt had heard when he was over by the Jotunn, now inches from his ears, making his head ring as his eyes squeezed shut. When he opened them again, he could see what was over him. A dog. A giant black dog with four red glowing eyes.

  “Matt!” Laurie said. “Use your Hammer!”

  Matt hesitated. He could easily work up enough fear and anger to invoke his power, but… well, his amulet wasn’t vibrating, which gave him pause. It always vibrated for monsters. Unless this wasn’t the same kind of monster as the trolls and the giants were…

  Giant dog. Guarding the gates of Hel.

  “Garm,” he murmured as he looked into the beast’s eyes. It snarled, drool dripping from its jaws, but it made no move to use those jaws on his throat. “It’s Garm.”

  “I don’t care what it’s called,” Fen said. “It’s a big dog that wants to eat you for dinner, Thorsen. Now use your Hammer. Or do I have to rescue you again?”

  “My amulet’s not reacting,” Matt said. “That means he isn’t a threat.”

  “Right. He doesn’t seem threatening at all,” Fen said sarcastically as he raised his voice to be heard over Garm’s roar.

  Garm lowered his muzzle to Matt’s face. Saliva dripped. Matt closed his mouth fast.

  “Matt!” Laurie said. “Do something!”

  Matt cleared his throat. “My name is Matt Thorsen. I’m a descendant of Thor, and I need to speak to—”

  “Seriously, Thorsen?” Fen cut in. “You’re trying to talk to him?”

  “I need to speak to Helen,” Matt continued. “I don’t mean her any harm. If you could take me to her—”

  Garm cut him off with a deafening roar.

  TWO

  FEN

  “PAVILION OF BONES”

  Fen hadn’t ever really considered Matt Thorsen a friend, not even when he’d agreed to join him on his whole save-the-world quest, but whether he liked the guy or not, he’d thought Matt was pretty smart. Watching him allow a giant monster dog to maul him while he chattered away at it made Fen seriously reconsider.

  “Try using your Hammer, Thorsen!”

  Matt just kept studying the beast, as if trying to decide whether the monster pinning him really did pose a threat.

  Laurie scurried around looking for some sort of weapon. The terrain here was pretty desolate, so unless they developed troll-like strength to heft the giant stones or wanted to irritate the dog with tiny rocks, Fen knew that there wasn’t anything useful. What he didn’t know was how to fix this. He was—like Matt—more about jumping in to a fight than thinking it out. Thinking was Laurie’s thing, but if she was looking for a weapon, they were in trouble. He glanced at his cousin and asked, “Ideas?”

  The dog was now holding Matt in place with one big paw. Saliva dripped in a long, gooey strand, and Fen hoped that it wasn’t some sort of toxic spit. Maybe the spit or some power in the dog’s breath or something was making Matt think this wasn’t a threat, but being pinned by a person-sized dog with spare eyes certainly seemed like an obvious threat to Fen.

  “Get mad or whatever so you can use your inner Hulk!” Laurie demanded. Her voice had a desperate tone, but she wasn’t foolish enough to charge the drooling four-eyed dog. Yet. She struggled to lift a piece of rubble that Fen knew she wouldn’t be able to throw very far even if she did succeed in moving it, and then she paused and let out a yip as two giant black birds swooped down and landed on the rubble.

  “Shoo! Go on. Go away!” She flapped her hands at them, and they tilted their heads as if they understood her. She turned back to Matt and said, “And you, defend yourself from the monster dog!”

  Fen glanced at the birds, who seemed intent on studying Laurie. They seemed harmless, creepy in that way that birds usually were, but not dangerous. If they did attack, he could stop them. Defeating a giant dog that outweighed him was a little iffy, but he could handle a pair of ravens.

  “Garm isn’t attacking. He’s a guard,�
� Matt insisted from his pinned position.

  “Right,” Fen drawled.

  Although he wasn’t sure he could take on some sort of monster dog all by himself, he didn’t see any other options, and he wasn’t going to stand by and let it eat Matt. It wasn’t because they were becoming friends or anything; Fen wouldn’t let anyone get eaten by a monster. He paused. Okay, maybe Astrid. She was responsible for Baldwin’s death. Fen could be on board with her being monster kibble. Not Matt, though.

  “Stay out of the way,” Fen told Laurie in a low whisper. “I think Thorsen’s lost his mind or something.”

  Almost as soon as he thought change, Fen became a wolf. Maybe it was just because Fen was a descendant of Loki, and this world was ruled over by one of Loki’s family. Whatever the reason, it was only a blink between thinking about being in his other shape and actually becoming a wolf. Fen flashed his cousin a wolfy grin, wishing he could tell her how cool that just was. She hadn’t ever become a wolf, though, and even if she had, he couldn’t talk to a person when he was a wolf—even if she were wulfenkind, which she wasn’t.

  He turned his attention to Garm and stalked toward the giant dog. It might be big, but it was a dog, and wolves were tougher than dogs any day of the week. Fen figured he would just take a running leap and knock Garm off of Matt.

  “Okay, puppy, let’s play,” Fen said.

  Just as Fen was about to pounce, Garm’s gaze swung to him and he said, “This is not play.”

  Fen skidded to a stop, claws scraping over the rough ground. “Did you say something?”

  “I merely replied. You spoke; I replied. That is how one has a conversation,” Garm said. He still had a paw on Matt, holding him in place, but his attention was on Fen now. He swept out a black tongue and licked the spittle that had been dangling from his massive jaws.

  The gesture made Fen tense. “We’re not kibble.”

  “Kibble? Who or what is kibble?” Garm tilted his head, looking like any other slightly perplexed dog, just an awfully big one.

  “Food. We’re not food.”

  Laurie had come up to stand beside Fen while he was focused on Garm. She leaned over, her gaze still on Garm and Matt, and said, “What are you doing?”

  Fen huffed. He couldn’t talk to her in this shape. Wait. Maybe I can! He was talking to Garm, so maybe it was a part of the magic in Hel. He looked up at her and said, “Talking.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t yip at me!”

  “They don’t understand,” Garm said, somewhat needlessly. “I keep asking questions of this one”—he nudged Matt with his head, which caused Laurie to yelp—“but he doesn’t answer.”

  Matt, despite being very close to massive, drooling dog jaws, hadn’t reacted. Laurie, on the other hand, had a very familiar expression: one he’d seen on her every time she was about to leap into trouble of some sort. She squared her shoulders and went to grab a handful of small pieces of rubble. The rocks weren’t that big, but they would still hurt.

  “That’s a bad idea.” Garm’s voice had a bit of a growl to it now. “I have a function, and that will not change it. It will anger me, though. When I am angry, I do sometimes bite.”

  Fen swung around and stepped in front of his cousin. Gently, he took her wrist in his mouth and held it.

  “Well, if neither of you are going to do anything, that leaves me,” she started.

  Fen growled a little, and she dropped the rocks with a sigh. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  He released her and tried to give her a comforting smile, although smiles weren’t exactly a standard wolf expression. So he added a friendly lick to her already wet forearm.

  “Gross.” She wiped the saliva from her arm and scowled at him.

  As soon as she looked at him, Fen swung his head from side to side. He couldn’t talk to her, and the smile wasn’t particularly effective, but maybe he could use a gesture she would understand.

  She put her hands on her hips and said, “No? He has Matt, and you’re standing there yipping.”

  The ravens swooped close to her, eliciting a small squeal as they startled her. Fen flashed his teeth at the birds, but they were gone in an instant. He turned his attention back to Laurie.

  “I think Fen is talking to him,” Matt said. “Right, Fen?”

  The indignity of trying to communicate with them like he was a dumb beast was enough to make Fen not want to reply. Of course he was talking to Garm! What else did they think he was doing? It was insulting. Still, Fen had no way to talk to Laurie unless he shifted back, and Matt had said what Fen needed to tell Laurie, so he dipped his head to look at his feet and then up at the sky. He repeated it a second time. It was a slow movement because it was an awkward gesture for a wolf, but it was a nod.

  It was hard to listen to his friends and also Garm, so although Matt and Laurie were still talking, Fen padded over to stand in front of Garm. “You ought to let him up.”

  “Your sort doesn’t belong here,” Garm growl-said.

  “Kids?”

  “Live people,” Garm corrected with a snort. “Plus, you god sorts always end up irritating my master.”

  Fen tried to think of a good answer to that. This wasn’t exactly his area, though. He was more instinct and failing to think, but since he was the only one able to talk to Garm, he had no choice but to handle this situation.

  “We aren’t here to irritate your master,” he said.

  Garm huffed. “Helen doesn’t like godlings.”

  “I don’t like a lot of them, either,” Fen offered, trying to be friendly. “Ray and Reyna, who didn’t come, are very irritating.”

  Garm sort of grinned, his massive dog mouth opening slightly. “You are Father Loki’s kin. Seeking silvered words to convince me to do what you want. He was like that.”

  Fen paused as he realized that he wasn’t going to have a lot of luck conning someone who apparently had experience with the god who was Fen’s ancestor. So he figured he’d try straight truth. “A friend of ours is here,” Fen said. “We just want to talk to your, uhhh, master. We’re not here to start a fight. Can we just see Helen?”

  Garm didn’t reply for a moment, and Fen thought for sure that the dog was going to refuse, but then he stepped away from Matt and said, “I will allow you to see her, but I will not guarantee your safety or her mood. Helen can be possessive of her guests. Come.”

  And then the giant dog turned and started toward the gates.

  The gates themselves weren’t particularly striking, aside from their size, but there was a creepy statue of a woman that made Fen pause. It seemed to be watching them attentively, but statues don’t watch people. It was disturbing. Maybe that’s why the statue was outside the gates, where it could get damaged—no one wanted it staring at them.

  Laurie was rushing to Matt as he scrambled to his feet. Once Matt was up, he walked toward Fen and reached out with one hand like he was about to ruffle Fen’s fur. Reflexively, Fen flashed his teeth at Matt, and within the next moment, Fen had transformed back to his human shape.

  “Do I look like a house pet to you?” Fen snarled, sounding a little wolfish.

  Matt held up his hands. “Whoa, I wasn’t going to pet you. It was just a friendly atta-boy clap on the—”

  “Don’t care, Thorsen,” Fen interrupted. “Just don’t touch me.”

  Laurie and Matt exchanged another look that they probably thought he didn’t see. He did. He just didn’t feel like wasting time talking about it. They thought he was being a jerk, and maybe he was. Sometimes, though, Fen just wanted to be more than he was. Matt had already had the Hammer punch, and now he had the ice thing. In the past few days, Laurie could suddenly open portals. What did Fen have? Nothing new. Being able to turn into a wolf was the exact same thing he could do before their trip, and it was the same thing dozens of other members of his family could do. His only new thing was talking to a big dog—which might only work in Hel. It was selfish, and Fen knew it, but he wanted to be the special
one for a change. If all he had was being a wolf, he wanted them to respect it, maybe even fear it a little, and being patted on the head wasn’t a sign of respect.

  They stood at the gates, three kids and a big dog. If not for the fact that the gates were in Hel and the dog had a spare pair of eyes, it might seem pretty normal. It wasn’t, but not much had been lately. Ever since Matt had been chosen as Thor’s champion and learned that Fen was Loki’s stand-in for the big fight, everything in their lives had become… weird. They’d fought monsters, slept in the forest, made friends with other descendants of the gods, including a kid who was then murdered—and, oh, yeah, decided to come to Hel to get their murdered friend back. The definition of what was normal for them had changed pretty drastically. What was unchanged was that Fen still felt lost. The one person he’d trusted—his cousin Laurie—had become too chummy with Thorsen, and as much as Fen had sort of started to like Thorsen, he didn’t like Laurie being on anyone’s side but his.

  “Can you, umm, tell us what Garm said?” Matt asked cautiously.

  The gates opened soundlessly.

  “He said that we can talk to his master, but we shouldn’t be here on account of the fact that god-type people irritate her… and because we’re alive.” Fen shrugged as they followed Garm through the open gates. He figured that Garm had a point, or two points, really: this was a place for dead folks, and he’d never heard of any myths where the gods weren’t annoying in their requests. The gods hadn’t exactly requested that their descendants fight Ragnarök. He’d do it, but he wished he could tell off a few dead gods for the mess they’d left for their descendants to sort out.

  As they walked, Garm bark-growled a couple times, and Fen debated becoming a wolf to see what he was saying, but considering the dog’s pace and impatient looks when he paused for them to catch up, Fen figured it was the equivalent of Walk faster, two-legged creatures.