Loki's Wolves

by K. L. Armstrong

  The guard watched him warily, and then looked around as if he were seeking shelter. Fen didn’t like that he had frightened him, so he smiled, which he always forgot never looked very friendly when he was a wolf, and the guard took a step backward. Fen felt a little guilty about scaring the guard, but he had no intention of hurting the man. He kept the man’s attention, hoping that Matt and Laurie were moving farther into cover.

  Then he leaped over a low wall and started toward the monument. He knew the guard was watching him. The weight of the man’s attention felt good, almost as good as stretching his muscles after hours of sitting and doing nothing. He grinned. Getting close enough to see whatever clue was on the presidents’ faces was going to be easy.

  He left the tourist section of the monument—and the guard—well behind him as he made his way up closer to the mountain, enjoying the feel of the ground under his paws, and was almost there when movement caught his eye. He stopped and looked. Rocks were raining down from the faces.

  He waited, torn between natural caution and rushing forward to look for the clue before an earthquake or avalanche hid it even more. Several more rocks fell. Then, it looked like a giant part of the rock face was about to come crashing down. He was glad the guard was well out of range, but when he looked back, he couldn’t see where Laurie was.

  Whether it was an earthquake or avalanche, he didn’t know. What he did know was that if there was a disaster of any sort starting, he needed to be with Laurie to keep her safe. He turned his back to the mountain and started to race back toward Laurie. He could hear a rumble behind him as he picked up speed.

  TWELVE

  MATT

  “TROLL CONDO”

  When Thomas Jefferson’s nose dropped off, Matt’s first thought was: avalanche. He’d never actually experienced one, but he’d seen plenty in movies, and if pieces start falling off the faces at Mount Rushmore, that’d be the only natural and logical explanation. Then, when George Washington’s nose dropped, he thought It’s an earthquake, immediately followed by It’s Ragnarök. More natural disasters. More signs—as if he needed them after being visited by Norns and Valkyries—that the world was indeed sliding into Fimbulwinter.

  His first reaction, he was ashamed to admit, was to look around and see who was handling this. Who was in charge. Who’d tell them to get to safety. Then he realized that was him.

  He was turning to warn Fen and Laurie when Teddy Roosevelt’s mustache got up and stretched. There was a second where Matt just stared, sure he was seeing wrong. The gray lump on the lip of the twenty-sixth president of the United States could not be stretching. It must be rolling or something, breaking loose.

  Except it wasn’t. It was stretching. And Abraham Lincoln’s beard was dangling from what looked like thick gray arms. Then it started going up and down, like it was doing chin-ups. Using Lincoln’s chin.

  They’d gotten as close as they could, but the faces were still so far away you’d need binoculars to really see them. Those lumps were definitely moving, though, and the more they moved, the less they looked like hunks of stone. The one that had been Roosevelt’s mustache now crouched on the president’s lip, long, apelike gray arms dangling. Then the arms swung, and it leaped down to the rocks below.

  “Trolls,” Matt whispered.

  “Right,” Fen said. “Mount Rushmore is really a giant troll condo. Makes perfect sense.”

  Laurie looked at Matt. “The trolls must have the answer. That’s what the Valkyrie meant, don’t you think?”

  “They didn’t say the answers were written on the faces. Just that the answers were on the faces.” Matt looked at the squat stone figure lumbering over the piles of broken rock, and he realized what he had to do.

  “We need to get ourselves a troll,” he said.

  As they picked their way across the forested mountainside, Matt kept waiting for Fen or Laurie to argue. He’d just told them he planned to capture and question a troll. Fen should say it was a dumb idea, or Laurie should say it was too dangerous. At the very least, Fen should say Go for it, Thorsen, and walk away. But there he was, right beside Matt, peering through the dark forest, head tilting to listen, nostrils flaring to… to sniff the air? Could Fen smell things, like a wolf? Matt thought of asking but figured it was safer to keep his mouth shut. Just because they weren’t trying to hit each other anymore didn’t make them friends.

  Laurie was right there, too, on Fen’s other side, looking and listening. The night forest was a scary thing at any time—hooting owls and creaking branches and patches of darkness so complete you had to walk with your hands out, feeling your way. Add trolls, and his own heart pounded in time with his footsteps. He was sure Laurie had to be terrified. She didn’t look afraid, though. Just cautious, like them. Maybe she didn’t really believe there were trolls. Maybe she was humoring him—maybe they both were. Playing along, waiting to laugh at him when his trolls turned out to be piles of rock.

  Almost as embarrassing was the fact that he was kinda hoping he was wrong. Otherwise, he had to carry through and actually catch a troll, and he had no idea how to do that.

  This time, he was the one who heard something first. His arm shot out to stop Fen, who plowed into it, then turned on him, snarling. Matt lifted his hand to motion for silence.

  Off to their left, a twig cracked. Matt pointed.

  Fen rolled his eyes. “We’re looking for a walking pile of rock,” he whispered. “It’s gonna make more noise than that.”

  True, if a troll was in the forest, they should all hear it, crashing through the undergrowth like a boulder rolling downhill. Maybe it was the guard? But there weren’t any paths here, and they’d seen no sign of guards since they’d come into the forest. Matt guessed that if the trolls came to life at night, they were careful to do it when the guards wouldn’t be watching.

  Matt felt his amulet heat. It didn’t get red-hot, like before a hammer flare, but it was getting warmer. He touched his cold fingers to it.

  “There’s a troll coming,” he said, before he could even think it.

  “What?” Fen waved at the amulet. “Now it’s a monster detector?”

  “Giants,” Laurie whispered. “You must pay even less attention in class than I do. Trolls are a kind of giant. Thor was known as the giant-killer.”

  “Right.” Fen sized up Matt. “We’d better hope they’re very small giants.”

  Matt plucked at the shirt he was wearing. It was Fen’s—Laurie had made her cousin grab extras for him. The tee rode at the top of Matt’s jeans and stretched across his chest and biceps. When he’d come out wearing it, Laurie had giggled, which had made Fen scowl and say it was an old one that he’d outgrown, and she couldn’t expect him to let Matt wear his good stuff. Now Matt didn’t respond to Fen’s crack. He just tugged at the shirt. Fen’s scowl returned, and he opened his mouth before his cousin cut him off.

  “Do I need to separate you two?” she muttered.

  Laurie was stepping between them when the ground vibrated under Matt’s feet. He tensed and looked around.

  “What now?” Fen said.

  “Didn’t you feel that?”

  Matt didn’t wait for an answer. He dropped to his knees and pressed his hands to the ground. It was vibrating. So was his amulet. He closed his eyes, one hand on the necklace, the other on the ground. Fen snickered and said something about troll-whispering, but Laurie shushed him. Fen was right, though, it looked stupid. It was stupid. Matt let go of the necklace, opened his eyes, and started to rise, but Laurie crouched in front of him.

  “What do you feel?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I just thought—”

  “Try again,” she said.

  He paused. Fen won’t ever follow you if he thinks you’re an idiot.

  “Try again,” she said, more firmly this time. She met his gaze. “We’re descended from gods, so we’ve all got some sort of god powers, right? We just need to figure out how they work.”

  “It might n
ot be—”

  “But it might be. If you’re wrong, no one’s going to laugh at you.” She shot a warning look at Fen.

  They’ve been following me so far, haven’t they? They don’t know me well enough to realize I don’t know what I’m doing. I can worry that they’ll find out I’m a fraud, or I can try to prove that I’m not. Try to be something different, someone different.

  Matt shut his eyes and stretched his fingers against the ground. The vibrations were getting stronger now, and even if he couldn’t hear so much as another twig cracking—which made no sense if a troll was nearby—he knew it was nearby. He could feel it walking across the earth.

  “Which way?” Laurie whispered.

  He started to hesitate, then stopped himself and pointed. Almost as soon as he did, another crack came, this one close enough that they all heard it.

  “Okay,” Matt whispered as he stood. “They’re going to be big, so we need to make sure it’s just one. If this guy has friends, we have to find another troll.”

  Fen pressed his lips together, and Matt knew he didn’t like the idea of running from a fight to search for an easier one. Maybe he even thought Matt was being a coward.

  Am I? No. That has to be part of leading. Knowing when something is too risky.

  At least Laurie seemed to agree, as she nodded and waved for Matt to lead the way.

  “You stay here,” he said. “Fen and I—”

  “Stop,” Laurie interrupted.

  “I’m just suggesting—”

  “Suggestion noted. And rejected. I’m going with you, and the more times you do that, Thorsen, the more ticked off I’m going to get.” She glanced at Fen. “Same goes for you.”

  “But you’re—” Matt began.

  “Don’t you dare say ‘a girl.’ ” She made a grumbling noise and then waved into the darkness. “Go.”

  Matt hesitated and glanced at Fen—who only shrugged.

  When Matt didn’t move, Laurie gave him a shove and muttered, “You know what you need, Thorsen? A sister.” She gave him another shove, harder this time, and they headed into the deep forest.

  Matt crouched behind an evergreen stump and peeked out at the troll. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was a big pile of rock. The troll was hunkered down next to a stream, staring at something in its hands. It turned it over, grumbling, the sound like stones clattering together. Then it reached out a long arm into the stream and scooped up a handful of rock and silt. It jiggled its hand over the water to let the silt rain down. Then it clenched its fist, dipped it into the water, and shook it.

  Panning for gold. Or some kind of treasure. Maybe even just sparkly rocks. The old stories said trolls loved anything shiny. Matt didn’t care much what it was doing; he was too busy staring at that hand. The troll itself wasn’t a real giant—crouching, it wasn’t taller than him. That hand, though, was huge. Bigger than his head. With claws as long as steak knives and probably just as sharp.

  The troll opened its massive hand and poked at the rocks on its palm. Its grumbles grew louder when it found nothing of interest.

  “What if we can’t communicate with it?” Laurie whispered, coming up behind him.

  Matt looked over at her.

  “That doesn’t sound like a real voice,” she said. “It’s just making noises. If we can’t talk to it, how are we going to find out—”

  The troll’s head swung their way, and Laurie stopped. As the troll peered into the darkness, Matt got his first real look at the thing. It had a gray, misshapen, bald head with beady, sunken eyes and a nose that hooked down over a lipless mouth. The nose twitched, as if the troll was sniffing the air. Then the mouth opened, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

  The troll rose to its full height. It would tower over Matt now. At least eight feet tall and half as wide, standing on squat legs, its long arms dangling, claws scraping the ground. It kept looking in their direction but just stood there, head bobbing and swaying, nostrils flaring. Then it charged.

  There was no warning. One second it was standing there, and the next it was barreling toward them so quickly and so quietly that for a second, Matt thought he was seeing things. Then Laurie grabbed his arm, and Fen shouted, “Run!”

  Matt lunged from behind the stump, breaking free from Laurie’s grasp, and then he did run—straight at the troll. There wasn’t a choice. It was coming too fast for them to escape. So Matt ran toward it, yelling.

  The troll skidded to a stop. Its beady eyes went as wide as they could, its stone jaw dropping.

  Matt kept running. As he did, his fears and worries seemed to fall behind. This was the part he understood, the part he’d always understood. This was when he really felt like a son of Thor.

  That’s why he loved boxing and wrestling. When he got into the ring, he didn’t feel like a loser, like a screwup. His family was never there, watching and waiting for him to make a mistake. They didn’t care. Win or lose, they didn’t care, and if that kind of hurt, it also felt good in a weird way. It felt like freedom.

  He ran at the troll, and he didn’t think I can’t do this. He didn’t think I can do this, either. He just thought what he always did in the ring: I’m going to give it my best shot.

  He concentrated on Thor’s Hammer and imagined throwing it at the troll. Nothing happened. So he kept going. When he was a few feet away, he pitched forward, dropping and grabbing it by the leg. It was a good wrestling move, one Coach Forde had taught him for dealing with a bigger opponent.

  The bigger they are, the harder they fall. In theory. A theory that, apparently, didn’t apply to trolls, and when Matt grabbed it by the leg, it barely stumbled. Then it pulled back its thick, short leg, kicked, and sent Matt sailing into the undergrowth.

  Matt hit the ground in a roll and bounced up. He wheeled to see the troll charging. Matt feinted to the side. He heard a clunk and saw a fist-sized rock bounce off the back of the troll’s head. The troll staggered, its charge broken. As it turned, snorting, Matt saw Fen lifting another rock.

  “What is it with you and attacking things that can kill you, Thorsen?” Fen yelled. “Next time, I’m not saving you.”

  Matt could point out that he hadn’t needed saving. Not yet, anyway. But the troll was now charging Fen. So he ran at the monster. His first impulse was to jump on its back. One quick look at that solid stone slab told him he wouldn’t get a handhold. So he dove again, this time landing in the troll’s path. It ran into him, its feet hitting his side like twin sledgehammers.

  The troll tripped. As it went down, Matt flew to his feet and jumped on the monster. It was like body-slamming a bed of rock. He was scrabbling for a hold when the troll leaped up.

  Matt rolled off. He bounded to his feet and faced off against the thing.

  “Now what?” Fen said from behind the troll. “It’s a pile of rock, Thorsen. You can’t fight that.”

  Matt ignored him and kept his gaze fixed on the troll’s. They circled. The troll was grumbling and muttering.

  The troll swung one long arm. Matt managed to back away enough that it should have only been a glancing blow. And it was—a glancing blow with a sledgehammer. It caught him in the stomach and sent him whipping into a tree and slumping at the base, doubled over, wheezing and gasping.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the troll coming at him. He leaped up and lunged. Except it was more of a stumble-up-and-stagger. It got him out of the way, but barely in time. His foot caught a vine. As he slid, he saw that massive stone hand heading straight for him—

  “Hey!” a voice called as stones rained down on the troll. “Hey, ugly, over here!”

  It was Laurie. The troll spun, and Matt launched himself at the thing’s back, only to slide off. He saw Laurie holding up something that glinted in the moonlight. A coin. She threw it. The troll dove for the treasure. Matt clenched his amulet in one hand and concentrated on launching the Hammer. Nothing happened.

  Why wasn’t it working? Not now and not with the Raiders. But it had worke
d when he’d fought Fen at the longship. What was different?

  At the longship, Fen had come at him, and he’d reacted without thinking. He’d reacted in anger. That was the difference. He hadn’t been angry at the Raiders, and he wasn’t angry with the troll. Sure, he was scared, but he also felt… good. In a weird way, even as he panted, stomach aching, what rushed through his veins wasn’t anger. It was fear and excitement.

  The troll scooped up the coin and turned on Laurie. Matt instinctively started to charge but stopped himself. Fen rushed forward, yelling and waving. Matt planted his feet, and he thought of what would happen if the troll got to Laurie. If the troll hurt her. If it hurt Fen. Matt would be angry then. Angry with the troll and angry with himself for dragging them into this, and if he couldn’t even fight a single troll, how could he ever hope to—

  The amulet’s heat shot through him and now he ran forward, flinging out his hand, feeling the energy course down it, seeing it leap from his fingertips like a bolt of electricity.

  It knocked the troll off its feet. Sending the thing flying across the clearing would have been even more satisfying, but it did go down. And it didn’t get up. It lifted its head and looked at Matt, gaping and blinking as he stood there, fingers still sparking, amulet glowing through his shirt.

  “Hammer,” the troll said in a deep rumble. “You have god Hammer.”

  “Thor’s Hammer,” Matt said, and he pulled it out, the metal glowing bright blue. “I’m a descendant of Thor, and I demand—”

  “Want Hammer.” The troll used its long arms to push to its feet, like an ape rising. “Leaf want Hammer.”

  Again, it charged so fast that it caught Matt off guard. This time, he stumbled back, hand going to his amulet, other fingers shooting out to…