We eat pancakes, big stacks of them, but even though I’m ten now, Father devours the most, and Uncle Nik looks at him and pats him on a shoulder and whispers in his ear like there’s some big secret. Nik sees my empty plate and says, ‘You’re just like your Father.’ Mum is staring at me but her green eyes look happy and sad at the same time.
‘What’s the matter?’ I ask.
‘Nothing,’ she mouths. ‘I’m just proud.’ She glances at Father. ‘I don’t want you to grow up.’
Ava digs her fork into her last pancake. ‘That’s impossible. Everything has to grow up.’
Mum nips my chin with the back of her fingers. ‘Maybe so, but Theo will always be my Teddy.’
I roll my eyes and take the opportunity to lick my plate clean of honey. It’s my birthday so nobody tells me off.
It’s sunny so after breakfast we go out to the garden and do the treasure hunt that we do every year. Ava cheats because she ‘sees’ where all the prizes are in her head, so to make it harder, Mum and Father keep moving the gifts around the gardens to confuse her. She stills wins most of them but it doesn’t matter. We walk down to the beach with our haul and stuff our faces with chocolates and play with the figurines.
After that we give my new boat its maiden voyage on the lake and feed the ducks. Lolita arrives and Nikolaj brings out a picnic basket loaded with sandwiches. Once again, Father eats most of it. ‘I don’t get it,’ I huff, after he eats the last flapjack, ‘why aren’t you super fat?’
‘Good genes,’ he says, munching away. I just glower; when I talk with my mouth full Mum gets cross.
I’m almost finished when Ava tags me. ‘You’re it,’ she shouts as she sprints into the woods.
‘Cheater!’ I chase after her. We run and climb and fight each other off with sticks, and then I lose her. It takes me ages and as the sun is setting I go and check the place we’re not allowed to go to without adults because she is nowhere else.
I find her sitting cross-legged by the cliff, gazing out to sea.
‘Ava, we should go back now.’
She doesn’t reply. I step forward but my stomach tightens. ‘Ava?’
Ava turns her head, and for a second, I think her eyes look wet. ‘Are you crying?’
She wipes her palms across her cheeks. ‘The air is salty,’ she says.
‘Okay.’
We walk in silence back to the house. I can smell baking. Mum is at the front door and she looks worried. ‘There you are! Come on, to the library!’
Mum takes our hands and sits us down in front of the fireplace near Father’s study. ‘Happy birthday, Theo,’ Lolita says.
‘Thank you.’ Mum looks at me. ‘And thanks for the teddy bear.’
Lolita smiles. ‘Ava did most of it.’
I nudge Ava with my shoulder. She blushes and I feel a strange flutter in my chest. I want to ask her again if she was crying and tell her that I don’t like it when she is sad. Ava is my best friend.
But then the air shivers and fizzles and Father appears with a huge sponge cake with ten candles. Everyone starts singing – Nik is the loudest, and I sing Happy Birthday to Me and Father puts the cake down on the coffee table.
Mum kneels next to me. ‘Make a wish, Teddy,’ she says.
I pause and look at the faces smiling down at me. The library is cool but our little circle feels warm.
Ava cups her hand and whispers in my ear. ‘I know what you’re gonna wish for.’ I frown. ‘I wish for it too,’ she added. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell nobody.’
I lean forward, close my eyes, and blow out the candles. I wish it can always be like this.
The next day the pipe is fixed so we have to go to school. Ava is quiet all day and fiddles with her scarlet beret in the playground. When I try to talk to her she chews her sleeve and pretends she’s lost her voice.
‘Are you sick?’ I ask when we are lining up for rounders on the playing field for PE. ‘Is that why you were crying yesterday?’
She nods but that doesn’t stop her whacking the ball halfway across the grass. She’s good at team sports because she always knows where the ball or whatever is going to be. Ava runs around the posts but she doesn’t join in with the cheers when she completes her lap.
I am so distracted I miss the ball three times. I go and sulk under the monkey-puzzle tree until she comes over and sits next to me, plucking grass. We don’t say anything, just watch the game.
‘I have a bad feeling,’ she says.
I almost forgot she was there. ‘About what?’
‘I don’t think I should tell you.’
‘Why not?’
She shrugs. ‘Grandmother says we shouldn’t try and change fate. She says we just twist ourselves up in knots.’
I make sure no one is looking and I reach out and touch her hand. ‘Is something bad going to happen?’
Ava bit her lip. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen. Just that it’s really bad and it will happen at nighttime.’
‘What nighttime? When?’
‘I don’t know. Not yet.’ She pauses. ‘But you know how yesterday I was really excited about the presents?’
I nod.
‘Well, I’m not excited about Christmas this year.’
I am about to ask her a question but then the teacher ends the game and we have to run back to the classroom to get changed. Ava and I always used to get changed together but today she asks to go and change in the toilet. I think it has something to do with the bra she wears now.
The maze released my mind from its vice grip and I stumbled forward into the snow, shocked and confused. Where the hell was I? Where was Ava and Mum?
I stared up at the snowflakes raining from the sky and the grief punched me in the gut. Mum and Father are both dead. They both died to protect me.
Reality ripped the memories away, leaving a fresh tear in my heart. I clutched my stomach, feeling sick, and tried to work out how I’d gotten this far into the maze. My body had been walking while I’d relived the past. A past that had consumed me entirely, leaving no awareness of anything else.
The azure light from Freyr’s sword pulsed above the lines of the maze. I seemed to be heading in the right direction. Utgard-Loki’s parting words: winning and losing aren’t relevant when you’re playing the wrong game. What did he mean by ‘the wrong game’?
I closed my eyes and asked the Gatekeeper. If anyone had the answers, it did.
How does the magic work in the maze?
A rumble built in my bowels as if it was thinking. It is not a physical maze; it is an illusion, a mental sub-realm created by the king’s mind. The magic is within him.
So the memories are the maze?
Yes. Be true to the path your life has followed and you will succeed.
What does that mean? While the Gatekeeper spoke, I touched the box-like walls with my palm in wonder. As my hand reached the corner, I lost the connection.
Then the maze contorted, straight lines bending to trap me in a spinning circle until my eyes rolled into the back of my head, ensnaring my consciousness once more.
40
A Different Kind of Plan
A giant carrying a shield the size of Lorenzo – if not bigger – came stumbling through the trees. Lorenzo quickly nocked an arrow.
‘Stop,’ Freyr said from his throne. He uncrossed his legs and bounded across the clearing towards the giant. ‘Ullr, where is Theo?’
Ullr kneeled. ‘My Lord,’ he said, taking Freyr’s slight hand in his paw and kissing the glittering ring that the previous king of Alfheim – now forever doomed to be dubbed ‘the temporary king’ – had reluctantly given him. ‘Theo has reached Utgard but I was denied entrance. He sent me here to inform you.’
The giant rose to his feet and examined Lorenzo. ‘You must be the vampire Theo constantly rabbits on about.’
Lorenzo grinned. ‘’Ere, Freyr, I told you he’d be missing me.’
His sprite-god ignored him. ‘I assume you would like to see Nikolaj?’
/>
‘Yes,’ Ullr said, ‘and something to drink.’
Freyr whistled and the Craven swooped into the clearing, lowering her head as Freyr climbed onto her back, beckoning Lorenzo and Ullr to join him.
‘Is this creature what I think it is?’
‘A Craven? Yup. Also Freyr’s pet.’ Lorenzo leapt onto her back and wrapped his arms around Freyr’s waist. At least this way he had an excuse to touch him without him shying away. But Ullr ruined the moment by gripping onto Lorenzo and letting off enough wind to buoy the Craven’s wings.
‘Excuse me, Your Majesty. My journey forced me to finish my supply of beans.’
Freyr giggled as the Craven charged across the clearing and took flight, sweeping over the hills and mountains and twisting towards the Forest of Dreams, where Nikolaj and Theo’s coven were working tirelessly to discover how Ava disappeared.
The Craven deposited them on the slope of the volcano and flew away. Lorenzo took point up ahead – he’d spent so much time in the Forest of Dreams in the last couple of days that he was becoming immune to its hallucinogenic effect.
Freyr slipped his arm through his as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Lorenzo said nothing, not wanting to startle him away. But he did sneak a peek at those milky cheekbones, dusted with peach, and those amethyst eyes, set off by the jewels in the golden band nestled in his jet, loopy curls. Oh, Raphael…
They found Nikolaj, mid-spell, in the clearing where Ava’s scent still lingered.
‘Nik! What kind of hodgepodge Elvish is that?’
He lowered his arms and paused his chant. ‘Ullr? It is you, my old devil? You haven’t aged an eon.’
While they embraced in welcome, Lorenzo approached Lori, who was propped up against a tree, nose in a heavy book, her black-and-red pointed fingernails drumming the hard cover. It still felt weird to think of her as a vampire and a witch. ‘Any luck?’
She tossed the book into the dirt. ‘Niente – nothing!’
‘Any theories?’
‘Akhen must have taken her. Probably because we took Elspeth. Nikolaj says this is the thinnest part of Alfheim’s boundary, and his sprites tell him that someone has punctured the layers between realms.’
‘His sprites? Never mind. So if there’s a hole, we can go through, right?’
’Nope. One way only. Akhen isn’t stupid.’
‘Great.’ Lorenzo scuffed his foot against the earth. ‘’Ere, where’d these scorch marks come from?’ He started walking around the clearing to examine the jagged spears jutting outwards like the rays of the sun. ‘I didn’t see these before.’
‘Hidden,’ Lori said, joining him. ‘Nikolaj was very troubled when we discovered them.’
‘Why?’
‘Akhen has damaged the boundary, perhaps permanently. It confirms what we feared – if he can cause such destruction, there’s nothing to stop the collapse of one Realm undermining the fabric of the other eight.’
‘Except your great leader, right?’
Lori blushed. ‘Theo is angry with us.’
‘I lost count of the number of lies you told him.’
‘He wasn’t completely forthcoming with us, either.’
Lorenzo leaned against a tree, and he found himself admiring Freyr’s graceful movements for the millionth time. ‘Can you blame him, Lamia?’
‘Penny and Malachi were very convincing. We are part of this fight, and the fat lady is yet to sing.’
‘And Nikolaj?’ he asked, watching the Elf-warlock zigzagging around, his voice changing pitch and tone regularly as he attempted to catch Ullr up on events, a couple of times barking and shouting at the sprites who interrupted the conversation. They had discovered that Freyr’s presence made them more animated – no surprise.
‘We’re working on it. Aurelia is retrieving something from her library as we speak. Freyja’s death is messing with her magic like the Consul warned. She thinks something called the Fae Heart might help.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I hate feeling so useless. Being Freyr’s bodyguard had proven less interesting than he’d hoped – no one had challenged Freyr’s ascension. Elves were apparently a lot more placid than humans. Theo had only left a few days ago and he’d already failed in his best-man duties by losing the bride, who not even Aurelia’s finest seers had been able to locate, thanks to Freyja’s death affecting their magic. Redheart was busy searching as many of Akhen’s haunts as she could sneak into, but so far, not a single whisper of Ava.
‘Hey, Nik! Where’s Elspeth?’
‘With Lolita and your mother,’ he replied, brushing Lorenzo away as he prowled about, prodding at random pockets of air. What was he looking for?
‘Still with Sayen?’
‘Will you shut up!’ Nikolaj roared. ‘Sorry, not you, Dark Elf. These bloody sprites. Yes, with Sayen.’
Lorenzo stalked over to Freyr. ‘We need to go,’ he said.
‘Are you hungry again?’
‘I’m always hungry. But no, that’s not it. Wanna ride on my back?’ He wouldn’t have dared ask him until the Craven’s first appearance, after which something had changed, and Raphael’s love had begun to shine through the god’s colder heart.
‘Okay.’ Freyr sprang on quicker than Lorenzo expected, but he caught him. ‘Is that a bow on your back or are you just happy to see me?’
‘I’m always happy to see you.’
‘Well…what do humans say? Glide forth, my pretty! Is that right?’
Lorenzo smirked. ‘Sure.’
He waved goodbye to the others and dashed down the slope of the volcano, causing some commotion when he leapt onto the golden thoroughfare that led to the Fork River and the bridge leading into Sarrow territory. Elves jumped out of the way of their king -- and his what, consort? Steed? – like paint splattering on canvas.
When they arrived at the camp, Lolita was stomping round and round the hearth fire, the Fae guards Glen and Sage watching on with concern. Elspeth, Sayen, and his mum were sitting in the shade, eating the famous Sarrow vegetable soup.
Freyr dismounted and approached her cautiously. ‘Lolita?’
‘Where is my daughter? For God’s sake, I feel so useless! How am I supposed to protect her? What am I supposed to do?’
‘I—’
‘Forgive me for cutting you off, Your Majesty,’ Lorenzo said with a wink. He walked over to Lolita and took her hands in his. ‘But I’ve been wondering the same thing. We don’t have Theo. We don’t have Ava. But you know what? They’re tough people. They’ll figure it out. We have the best man and the mother of the bride, an aunt, and a couple of uncles. We don’t have time to be useless; the least we can do is be ready for their return.’
‘What do you mean?’
He patted her arm. ‘Come on, we have a wedding to plan.’ He didn’t wait for her reply – he had too much to do. The Nine Realms needed a celebration. And they were bloody going to get one.
41
A Prayer and Some Scissors
Menelaus woke up in a gently rocking boat, Rosalia unconscious beside him. ‘Oh, Hel,’ he said, sitting up and comparing that rugged, ever-dark shoreline with his internal map.
I’m really getting sick of Akhen knocking me out. He shook Rosalia’s arm. ‘Wake up. We’ve got to row.’
She opened one eye and felt for her hat, which had slipped off. ‘Right back where we started,’ she sighed, picking up an oar. ‘How did he send us here?’
‘Perhaps he bribed Charon,’ Menelaus said, ‘with the promise of a lot more souls heading his way.’
‘Don’t be silly, brother. If Akhen gets his way, there’ll be no souls left to ferry across the Styx.’
They rowed to shore in silence. Menelaus used the rhythm of the oars to help him think. How exactly were they going to get Hel away from her net, avoid being tortured by Loki for going AWOL, and enact Ava’s plan? Persephone. She helped us once…
‘We shall go to Persephone,’ said Rosalia, echoing his thoughts. ‘That cave over there is the bac
k entrance to Hades’s waterfront villa. Is your invisibility working?’
‘No. Hel’s net makes sure of it.’ He tried anyway. Failure. ‘I guess our one advantage is that no one will expect us to return.’
After rowing another mile, they beached the boat, hiding it in a kink between the cave and the cliffs. Rosalia adjusted her hat at the front and tail. ‘Follow me,’ she said, ‘and walk quietly if you can.’
‘Stealth mode activated.’
‘What does—’
‘Never mind.’
Inside the caves, a place for tying up boats preceded a staging area, and uphill from the shore they found a natural larder for storing supplies away from the tide. Spiral stone steps led them into a series of passageways. Rosalia took the turns with confidence. ‘I’ve spent centuries exploring every nook and cranny in Helheim,’ she whispered, when they paused behind a door.
Menelaus held his finger to his lips, tilting his ear towards the gap. ‘I hear weeping,’ he said.
Rosalia slipped inside the room before he could stop her. Damn it. It could be a trap.
He crept in behind her, and was immediately struck by the vision of the goddess Persephone, her luxurious, silky gown spread across the velvet-draped bed, those slender, milky arms and her flower-tressed hair the only visible parts of her.
Her muffled sobs gave the chamber a haunting quality.
‘Sepho…’ Rosalia breathed.
The crying halted – and resumed. ‘Oh! Hades is right! My mind is as fragile as the bones of a bird’s wing! I cannot bear to be alone, so I imagine my beloved child returned! No, I shall not fall for it. I must be strong…’
Rosalia climbed onto the bed and began to plait Persephone’s hair. ‘I remember the first time you asked me to do this for you,’ she said. ‘I was so afraid; did you know that? I think you looked at me, a girl stolen from her family and life in Midgard, and recognised yourself. The bride of Hades. Fearsome, quick-tempered, desperate.’
Persephone rose her head. ‘Lia, is that really you?’
The Descendants of Thor Trilogy Boxset: Forged in Blood and Lightning; Norns of Fate; Wrath of Aten Page 93