Loki's Wolves (17 page)

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 worked 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…

To do nothing.

Panic pounded through him, and he stepped back. Then he stopped himself.

Don’t give in to the fear. Use it. This troll wants your Hammer. It’ll take your amulet, and then what? You’ll lose your only power in your first giant-fight? Against one troll? Oh, yeah, you were tested, Matty. And you failed on the first question.

The energy shot out and hit the troll. This time the thing
did sail off its feet, hitting the ground so hard the earth shook.

Laurie stumbled as if her knees had almost given way.

Matt advanced on the fallen troll. “You want the Hammer?
That’s
the Hammer. You go after any of us again, and I’ll give you a bigger taste of it. Now, I have questions, and you’re going to answer, or you’ll
get
the Hammer.”

The troll said nothing, just stared at the amulet as if transfixed.

“We are looking for…” He remembered the term Hildar used. “The descendants of the North. Specifically, a pair of twins. From the gods Frey and Freya. They’re about our age. Do you know where they are?”

Even before the troll answered, Matt could tell by its reaction that it did.

Finally the troll said, “Leaf knows.” Then it narrowed its eyes. “Leaf could tell son of Thor.
Will
tell son of Thor. For Hammer.” It pointed at the still-glowing amulet. “Give to Leaf, and Leaf will tell.”

Matt tucked the amulet under his shirt again. “The only Hammer you’re getting is the one I just gave you. Now answer the question.”

“No.”

Matt launched the Hammer again. It was easier now—he was honestly getting angry—and when the troll refused, he got madder, which made him launch it a second time,
almost without meaning to. But the troll just sat there, absorbing the blows and refusing to talk.

Before he could try again, Laurie came up behind him and whispered, “I have an idea.”

He was about to say no, he could handle it, but she stepped forward and announced, “There
is
a way you can have Thor’s Hammer, Leaf.”

L
aurie was unexpectedly calm as she smiled up at the troll. She took three steps toward him. “You’re right: we
can
make a deal. We can trade with you.”

Matt started to object, but she shot him a look over her shoulder, and he quelled. Fen was back in wolf shape, but the gaze he leveled on her made it pretty clear that he wasn’t particularly in favor of her approaching the troll, either.

“You give god Hammer,” Leaf demanded.

“Maybe,” she said.

Both Matt and Fen had followed her. From the corner of her eye, she could see them standing on either side, but slightly behind her. She glanced quickly at them, hoping
they wouldn’t mess this up. Fen’s expression was impossible to read, since he was a wolf, and Matt was definitely tense. “We need to find the two descendants of the North. The Valkyrie Hildar sent us to you. Do you know where they are?”

The troll glared down at her from its unsettling rocklike face. “Yes.”

“And you will tell us where they are if we give you the god Hammer?”

The deep gravel voice said, “Yes! Want it.”

Laurie nodded. A small flash of guilt filled her. She’d promised her mother that she wouldn’t trick people like her dad’s family did—
like the descendants of Loki did
—but this was a pretty extreme set of circumstances. Ragnarök was coming. That
had
to change the rules.

She turned to face Matt, who reached up to cover the Hammer with one hand.

“Trust me,” she said.

Warily, he removed his hand.

Laurie stepped behind Matt and undid the knot of the cord. “Stay still,” she said loudly. She moved closer to Matt, angling her body so the troll couldn’t see her lips, and whispered, “It’s just the Hammer, right? The cord doesn’t matter?”

“Right,” Matt said.

“What?” the troll grumbled at them.

“I was saying she’s right. I need to stay still.” Matt managed a smile. “See? I’m staying still now.”

The mammoth creature frowned. It might not know what it had missed, but it was obviously not sure about trusting them, either.

Excitedly, Laurie removed the necklace from around Matt’s neck and held it up so the troll could see the Hammer dangling from the black cord. The troll’s attention left Matt and zeroed in on the Hammer.

“So, if I give you this, you’ll tell us?”

“Leaf wants,” the troll rumbled.

“I know.” Laurie switched the necklace to her right hand and slid the cord free of the pendant itself. As she stepped from behind Matt, she slipped the Hammer into his hand; at the same time, she held up her left hand. The black cord dangled from her closed fist.

She stepped in front of Matt.

“I’ll give you this. You have to bend down, and I can tie it on you.” Laurie shook the hand holding the cord, making Leaf look at her hand again. With her right hand she reached into her pocket, where she had the necklaces she’d brought to sell. She nimbly slipped a pendant off one.

“Now,” Leaf demanded. He bent forward.

“Just hold still, and I’ll tie it on you.” She slid the pendant, a tiny silver unicorn, onto the cord while Leaf’s gaze was on the ground. As she approached him, she let the metal of the pendant flash briefly into his line of sight and then quickly palmed it again.

She peered at his neck, all the while trying not to inhale through her nose. Trolls, or at least this troll, did not smell good at all. She smothered a gag. “I don’t think it will fit around your neck.”

“Twins near,” the troll cajoled. “Leaf made deal!”

Laurie tilted her head and stared at Leaf. “I suppose I could put it on your ear.” She brushed her own hair back. “I wear things there.”

The troll nodded and bent down again. Thankfully, this meant his fetid breath was no longer blowing at her.