Baldwin poked his head around the doorway. “Maybe we could do that.”
“No,” Fen and Matt said at once.
“Okay. Maybe later.” Baldwin shrugged. “I don’t know much about myths, so who are you?”
Matt pointed at Fen, “Fen’s a descendant of Loki, trickster and troublemaker. Laurie is, too.”
Laurie smiled at Baldwin.
Then Matt gestured at the twins. “They’re Frey and Freya. She was goddess of love and beauty; he was weather and fertility. And I’m, uh, a descendant of Thor. I’ll… umm… fight the Midgard Serpent.”
“Thor smash,” Reyna interjected. “That’s the Hulk, not Thor,” Matt started to explain. “Whatever,” Reyan muttered.
Ray laughed, but then Fen said, “At least Matt’s powers are useful—unlike the power of eyeliner and baby-making.”
For a moment, Matt’s expression was of total shock at Fen’s stepping in to defend him, but he wiped it away before Fen could notice—not that he would’ve. Fen was already headed toward Baldwin, asking, “What do you have to eat?”
Laurie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Fen quite so friendly with a stranger, but Baldwin was really likable. The whole extreme sports thing would appeal to Fen, too. He wasn’t exactly bookish. She glanced at Matt, who was beckoning her. They went into the foyer.
Matt stared directly at her and said, “In the myths, Loki kills him.”
When she didn’t reply, Matt continued, “Loki gave Balder’s blind brother a spear of mistletoe, and that spear killed him. That’s the main version. There are others. They also say that the gods tried to get Balder back from Hel—the lady in charge of the afterlife—because everyone was so upset. Hel said that if everyone mourned Balder, he could go back to life, but Loki wouldn’t cry at all, so Hel wouldn’t let Balder go. Loki was responsible for Balder’s death and his staying dead. But that’s the real Loki. It doesn’t mean anything for us.” He looked toward the kitchen, where they could hear Fen and Baldwin laughing. When he continued, he sounded almost angry, as if she had argued with him. “The Seer and my family say the myths are true. After everything we’ve seen, I believe some of it is, but we’re ourselves, not god clones. The Norns say we aren’t destined to lose, so that means the rest doesn’t have to happen like it does in the myths, either.”
Laurie weighed the details out in her mind. She wasn’t entirely sure what to think of a lot of things, but she was certain that they could win. What would be the point in doing all the stuff they were if she thought they were going to be trapped by what the myth said happened? That was just a story; this was real. She called, “Do you have any brothers, Baldwin?”
“No.” Baldwin came into the foyer, swiping at his floppy hair as he did so. “Do you want to borrow some clothes? I can throw yours in the washing machine.”
They both smiled at him. He really was the nicest person she’d ever met. She liked him, but it was sort of the way she liked Matt—with the sense that he could be a brother, that he was important to her the way Fen was. She didn’t feel that way about Reyna or Ray, though, and that made her nervous… more so because Reyna was the only other girl. She’d mostly had boys for friends, because of Fen, but still, she wanted to have girls as friends, too.
As she followed Baldwin, he chattered about the pictures on the wall as they went upstairs, the first time he’d jumped out of the second-floor window, and something about trying to order a sword on eBay, which had gotten him grounded.
Upstairs, he grabbed a T-shirt and jeans to lend her—and a belt to keep them from falling off. At the door to the bathroom, he pointed at the towels. “I’m going to see how many pizzas Mom left in the freezer. Probably better than going anywhere, right?”
“Yes, please.” She yawned. “It’s been a long few days.”
“Right.” He walked away humming.
It was a blurry couple of hours of everyone getting food and claiming spots to sleep. Matt had tried to talk about the next part of the plan, but Fen had threatened to bite him if he didn’t give them a few hours of peace. The twins appeared to be in a daze over everything, and Baldwin peppered Fen and Matt with questions. As the boys relayed mostly accurate stories of Mount Rushmore, tornadoes, trolls, Valkyries, and all the rest, Laurie dozed—until the doorbell rang.
At first, Laurie was confused. She was in a strange house, sleeping on an unfamiliar sofa, wearing someone else’s clothes. The ringing was followed by a knocking, and then Baldwin was standing beside her. Seeing him made her remember where she was.
“Trolls don’t ring the bell, right?” he said.
“I don’t think so.” She got to her feet and went with him to the door. They both took turns looking through the peephole in the door.
A girl stood on the porch. She had short dark hair that was dyed pink at the tips and was wearing the sort of clothes that screamed “not from here”: a funky cropped jacket with a fur collar, a skirt that looked like it was sewn together from all sorts of different materials, and a pair of tall pink boots.
“Is she with you?” Baldwin asked.
Laurie shook her head.
“Huh.” Baldwin opened the door. “Hello.”
The girl beamed at them and said, “Hi, I’m Astrid. I hear you’re looking for my boyfriend.”
EIGHTEEN
MATT
“WAKING NIGHTMARE”
After talking to Baldwin for a while, Matt had drifted off. Now he was dreaming that he was back at home, before Vetrarblot, his mother making rakfisk in the kitchen.
“I’m quitting boxing,” he said to his mother as he took milk from the fridge. “Wrestling, too.”
His mother looked over, knife raised, frowning. Josh and Jake stopped eating. All three stared at him.
“I’m thinking I’ll join the football team,” he said. “Be a team player.” He put the milk back. “I’m not very good at fighting anyway.”
“Of course you are,” his mother said. “You’re the best in middle school.”
“You’ll be the best in high school, too,” Josh said, shooting him a thumbs-up. “You’re a natural, Mini-Matt.”
Matt slammed the fridge door. “No. No, I’m not. I’m a lousy fighter. You need to find someone else.”
“Find someone else for what, dear?” his mom asked.
“Matt?” his dad called from the hall.
“In here!” his mom called back.
Dad walked in holding a box with holes punched in the top. “Got you something today. I know we’ve always said you can’t have a pet, but I think you’re finally ready.”
“Finally responsible,” his mom said.
“Finally responsible,” his brothers echoed.
Dad handed him the box. Matt opened it to see a small snake curled up in the bottom. It lifted its tiny head, red eyes flashing as it hissed at him.
Matt dropped the box onto the counter. It toppled, snake spilling out as he backed away. The snake uncurled, and when it did, it was half as long as the counter, its head as big as the box it had come in.
“Matt!” his mom said. “You’ll hurt the poor thing.”
“It—it’s a serpent.”
Dad scooped up the snake, draping it over his arm. “It’s a very special serpent, Matt. It’s your serpent. You need to take care of it.”
The doorbell rang. Everyone ignored it and just watched Matt, shaking their heads in disappointment as he recoiled from the box. The serpent stretched until its head touched the floor, then it swung over and wrapped around his father’s legs.
“Dad!” Matt shouted.
He tried to leap forward, but he couldn’t move. The serpent wound its way up his father’s body, wrapping around and around like a python, green scales glittering, red eyes gleaming.
The doorbell rang again.
“Aren’t you going to take your serpent, Matt?” his mom said. “You won’t make your father look after it, will you? That isn’t very responsible.”
The serpent’s coils now envelope
d his father’s entire body, its head poised over his father’s. Its jaws opened, fangs flashing. It looked at Matt, who couldn’t move, couldn’t even shout now, but was frozen there, watching the serpent’s giant jaws hover over his father’s head.
“You really should take care of it,” his father said… right before the serpent devoured him.
Matt’s eyes snapped open, and he found himself staring up at a white ceiling with a weight on his chest, pushing him down, pressing the air from his lungs. He struggled to breathe, but he couldn’t open his mouth. He couldn’t move. It was like he was still in the dream, paralyzed. He couldn’t even blink. His eyes stung, and his chest was on fire, and he couldn’t breathe.
Somewhere he heard Laurie’s voice and Baldwin’s and he tried to yell for them, but he couldn’t get words out. He was trapped there, on the floor in Baldwin’s living room, suffocating.
“You need to take care of it,” a voice said behind him. His mother’s voice.
She leaned over him, and her face was gray and pale.
“Are you going to take care of your serpent, Matty?” she asked. She leaned down farther, until he could smell her breath, stinking like rotted fish. “You really need to take care of it.”
She kept bending, her mouth opening, eyes glowing red dots now, skin green scales, teeth sharpening to fangs, forked tongue flicking out.
Matt bolted upright like a slingshot. He bent over, coughing and sputtering as he caught his breath. Then, slowly, he turned. The serpent was gone. He blinked and rubbed his eyes and looked around.
He was in Baldwin’s living room, on the floor. Fen was fast asleep, curled up in the recliner. The couch where Laurie had been was empty now, her blanket draped over the side, and he could hear her talking to Baldwin at the front of the house. Just like in his dream.
So it wasn’t a dream?
No, it must have been. Some weird kind of waking nightmare.
He blinked again and rolled his shoulders, then squinted at the blue numerals on the DVD player. Past midnight. Why was Laurie up and talking to Baldwin?
He gave a soft laugh as he thought it. Dumb question. He’d seen Reyna sneaking looks at Baldwin earlier. He supposed if a girl that pretty was checking Baldwin out, the guy must be good-looking.
Matt yawned and rubbed down the last goose bumps on his arms as the wisps of the nightmare finally floated away. He was stretching out again when he heard another voice—a girl’s. Reyna? It didn’t sound like her. As he sat up he dimly remembered the doorbell in his dream—the one no one else had seemed to hear.
Matt got up and padded barefoot toward the front hall. The girl’s voice came clearer now, saying something about Odin. Baldwin asked her to come inside, and the voices retreated to the dining room. Matt followed. When he drew close, he could see the girl through the doorway.
She had… pink hair. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Okay, it wasn’t completely pink, but the ends definitely were. She wore pink boots, too, ones that went right up to her knees. Weird, but cool-weird.
She looked up. When she saw him, she smiled, a smile so bright and wide that it made her whole face light up. Laurie was saying something, but the girl started toward Matt, as if she didn’t hear Laurie. If it was possible for her smile to widen, it did. Matt felt his cheeks heat.
“You must be Matt,” she said. She looked him over, and he was sure his face went as red as his hair. “Wow. You really are Thor’s son, aren’t you?”
“N-no. Just a descendant. A distant descendant.”
She smiled. “You know what I mean.”
“Matt?” Laurie said. “This is Astrid. She’s Odin’s girlfriend.”
Laurie emphasized the last word, and Matt yanked his gaze away, cheeks flaming now. Had he been checking Astrid out? He hoped it hadn’t looked like that. He wasn’t. Or, at least, he didn’t think he’d been.
“Odin’s girlfriend,” he said quickly. “Cool.” He walked in and leaned against the wall, as casually as he could. “So what’s going on?”
“Odin sent her,” Laurie said. “He’s busy doing stuff to get ready for Ragnarök, so he sent Astrid here to help us.”
“Cool.”
“Is it?” Astrid sighed in relief. “Good. Odin said you’d be okay with it, but I wasn’t sure. It’s your call, right? You’re the guy in charge.” She was looking right at Matt.
Matt managed a laugh. “I wouldn’t say that.”
She shot him a small, secret smile, as if they knew better.
Matt cleared his throat. “So, how exactly can you—?”
Something drifted past the window, wispy, like a puff of smoke. He instinctively reached for his amulet. When his fingers touched bare skin, his eyes widened.
“Matt?” Laurie said.
“My Hammer. It’s—” He stopped and patted his pocket. Then he paused again, thinking back. “Right. I left it on the end table so I wouldn’t lose it.”
“Because we need to get a new cord again,” Laurie said. “I’m starting to think we should buy them in bulk.”
“Yeah, yeah.” His gaze rose to the window again. It was empty.
“Did you see something?” Laurie said.
“Just fog, I think.” He gave a short laugh. “Getting jumpy. Too many trolls.”
“No kidding, huh?” Laurie pulled out a chair. “Okay, so—”
“Did you say fog?” Astrid cut in. She looked at Laurie. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. But…” Her gaze shot to Matt. “Fog?”
“Or something,” he muttered. “Maybe nothing.” He pulled out a chair.
“No, it could be something.” Astrid walked to the window and tugged the curtains back more, her hands clenching the fabric, voice going tight. “What exactly did it look like?”
“I dunno. Fog. Smoke.” He walked over and peered out into the night. “It’s gone now.”
Astrid turned. “Was everyone sleeping okay?”
“I just heard the doorbell,” Laurie said. “I wasn’t sound asleep, but that’s it.”
“Everything was fine with me,” Baldwin said.
They all turned to Matt.
“Um, sure,” he said. “All good. Just sleeping.”
Astrid’s eyes bore into his. “Really? This is important, Matt. Was anything going on when you woke up? Were you dreaming anything?”
He flinched. “Sure, I guess. Kind of a bad dream, but I don’t see—”
“A nightmare?” she asked. “And then when you woke up? Did you feel anything?”
He looked from one face to another.
“Matt,” Laurie murmured. “She said it’s important. Don’t play tough guy.”
“Yeah, I was having a nightmare,” Matt admitted. “I thought I woke up, but I didn’t really. Not completely, anyway. I couldn’t move, and I was seeing things, and I couldn’t breathe.”
“Because it felt like something pressing down on your chest?”
“Yeah,” he said. “How’d you—?”
“Mara.” Astrid yanked the curtain closed. She spun. “I thought I’d gotten rid of them.”
“Gotten rid of what?” Laurie said. “What’s a mara?”
She looked at Matt for the answer, but his brain just spun, whipping through all the old stories and finding nothing.
Astrid strode into the hall and looked around, tense, as if braced for attack. “Odin warned me, but I thought I’d lost them. I am so sorry. If I knew they’d followed me, I would never have come here.”
“What’s a mara?” Matt asked, as she strode to the window and peered out.
“Mara. Mares,” Astrid muttered.
“Horses?” Baldwin said.
Matt shook his head as he pulled the answer from some half-forgotten saga buried deep in his brain. “Spirits of confusion. That’s where the word nightmare comes from. Mares, or mara.”
“Okay,” Laurie said. “But are they outside?” She cast a slow look around. “Or in here?”
“I-I don’t know,” Matt said. “I don’t know a
nything about them, really. It’s minor stuff in the stories. Just a mention or two in the sagas. Astrid?”
He glanced toward the front hall, but she was gone. He jogged into the hall and found her at the front door, hand on the knob.
“I need to go,” Astrid said when he walked up to her. “I brought them here. If I leave, they’ll follow me.”
“What are they after?” Matt asked.
She frowned up at him.
“What are the mara after?” He repeated.
“The same thing all the monsters are after. You guys. The descendants of the North.”
“Right. Me, Laurie, Fen, Baldwin, the twins… they followed you here to get to us. Your leaving isn’t going to help,” Matt pointed out.
“Right. Of course. I’m so sorry. This is—” She took a deep breath. “I’ll handle it. Get everyone in the basement.”
“What? No. We’ve fought trolls and Raiders. We can do this. If you want to get in the basement—”
Her chin shot up. “I don’t hide. Especially not when I’m responsible.”
“Okay,” Laurie said, walking into the hall, Baldwin trailing behind. “So how do we fight these things? What exactly are they?”
“Spirits, right?” Matt said. “Like ghosts. That’s what I saw outside.”
Astrid nodded.
“But they’re inside, too,” he said. “Or they can get inside us somehow. In our brains. Mess us up. You said you thought you’d gotten rid of them. What did you do?”
“It won’t work for you,” Astrid said. “That’s why you guys should go down—”
“We’re staying,” Matt interrupted. “Just explain.”
“Quickly, please,” Laurie said, glancing out the side window.
“I’m descended from Queen Gunnhild of Norway, who was believed to be a witch. She was—and I have her powers. Dispelling the mara takes magic. Special magic. I’ll handle that part. You guys just… do what you can.”
“Laurie, can you wake Fen?” Matt said. “I’m liable to get my hand bitten off if I try.”
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