Loki's Wolves (5 page)

He should just tell his parents what happened. He’d started to last night, then chickened out and told Dad he’d seen some kids messing around at the longship, and Dad said he’d have his men patrol for a while. He’d lectured Matt, too, about taking more responsibility for their town, how he should have done something about it, not come home and tattled to his parents. That stung, especially when Matt
had
done something. He already felt bad about it. He should have been able to handle Fen without setting off the Hammer.

Don’t think about that. Focus on something else. Think of your science fair project.

Oh, yeah. That helped. Let’s focus on
another
example of how badly you can mess up, Matty.

He’d totally blown his science project, and he needed to do a new one before tomorrow night’s fair. He’d overcomplicated things, as usual. He’d been trying extra hard because his family always won the eighth-grade science fair. First his dad. Then his brothers, Jake and Josh. If it were any other subject, Matt would be fine. But, as usual, if his family was good at it, he wasn’t.

Maybe if he slept on it. He got some of his best ideas at night, when he could relax and stop worrying.

When he finally fell asleep, he did dream about his science project… all the ways he could mess it up again and embarrass his family. He kept dreaming about building the best project ever, only to accidentally unleash Thor’s Hammer and blow it to smithereens in front of the entire school. Then his brain seemed to get tired of that and plunked him down in the middle of a field.

It was daytime. He was standing there, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t alone; he could sense someone behind him. But he didn’t turn to see who it was. He was busy staring at the sun—and at the wolf chasing it.

The wolf was a huge, black shadow, all gleaming red eyes
and glistening fangs. The sun was a glowing chariot pulled by three white horses.

“It’s Sköll and Sól,” Matt murmured.

“Huh?” said a girl’s voice behind him. He felt like he should know the voice, and in the dream, he seemed to, but his sleeping self couldn’t place it.

“A Norse myth. The sun circles the earth because she’s trying to escape the wolf Sköll. And the moon—” He squinted against the bright sun. Behind Sól’s chariot, he could make out a paler version, chased by another shadow wolf. “There he is. Behind her. Máni, chased by Hati.”

“Looks like the wolves are catching up.”

Matt shook his head. “That won’t happen until Ragnarök.”

“Ragnarök?”

“The end of the world. It’s supposed to begin when Loki kills Balder. Then Sköll catches Sól, and Hati catches Máni, and the world is plunged into endless night and winter. But that’s not going to—”

The wolves leaped and closed the gap. The chariot riders whipped their horses, and they pulled ahead.

Matt exhaled. “Okay, it’s just—”

The wolves lunged again. They caught the chariots in their powerful teeth and wrenched. The chariots toppled backward, horses flying. The sun and moon tumbled out. The wolves dove after them, opened their jaws, and…

Darkness.

Matt bolted up in bed, his heart thudding so hard he swore he could hear it.

Ragnarök.

The end of the world.

He blinked hard. Then he shook his head. Yes, his family did believe in Ragnarök, and the Seer was always looking for signs, but they’d been looking since before the old gods had died. Because the gods had been… well,
stupid
, they’d all managed to get themselves killed long ago. According to the Seer, that meant that when Ragnarök did come, some of the descendants would have to stand in for the original gods in the final battle. They’d be filled with the gods’ powers and would fight the monsters as it had been foretold. Luckily, Ragnarök wasn’t coming in his lifetime. What
was
coming was the science fair. Not exactly apocalyptic, but it sure felt like it.

He rubbed his face and yawned. Every time he closed his eyes, though, he saw the wolves chasing the sun and the moon.

He shook his head. That wasn’t going to help his science…

Or could it?

Matt smiled, stretched out again, and fell asleep.

“Rakfisk!” Josh yelled, thumping open Matt’s door. “Hey, Mini-Matt. Don’t you smell that? Mom’s making rakfisk.”

Matt lifted his head, inhaling in spite of himself. He groaned and clenched his teeth to keep from barfing into the pillow. Nothing smells as bad as raw fish. Unless it’s raw fish that’s been left to rot for months, then served on toast. For breakfast.

Jake grabbed Josh’s shoulder. “Don’t wake the baby. More for us.”

Josh was seventeen and Jake a year younger, but they were both so big that Josh practically filled the doorway by himself, and all Matt could see of Jake was a shock of red hair over his brother’s shoulder.

They took off, thudding down the hall. Matt lifted his head, nose plugged. He tried breathing through his mouth, but that didn’t help, because then he could
taste
the rakfisk. If there was one thing that totally ruined Norse holidays, it was the food. Ancient Viking traditions, his mom would say. Traditions the Vikings should have kept to themselves, he thought.

He found his mom in the kitchen, working at the counter while his brothers sat at the table and devoured plates of rakfisk on toast. He opened the fridge and found two milk containers. The first was filled with a thin, bluish-white liquid. Whey—the stuff that’s left over after you curdle milk for cheese. He groaned and shoved it back in.

“Whey’s full of protein, Matty,” his mother said. “You won’t get any bigger drinking pop.”

“Oh, he won’t get any bigger no matter what he drinks,” Jake said. “Or no matter how many weights he lifts. Josh and I were both bigger than Matt at his age.”

Josh shrugged. “Not by much. There’s still time. Maybe if he’d join the football team…”

“I like boxing.”

His mother tried not to make a face. She didn’t like boxing. Or wrestling, which Matt also did, although he wasn’t as good at it. She said she worried he’d get himself hurt, but he knew she just didn’t get it. Football was the only real sport in the Thorsen house. Or in all of Blackwell.

“Oh,” she said. “Your granddad asked about you last night. You haven’t had any more…” She gestured to his amulet. “Outbursts?”

Matt struggled to keep his expression blank. “No, not since the last time.” Which, technically, was true. Just not the “last time” she knew about.

His mom exhaled in relief. “Good,” she said. “Now, let me get you some rakfisk for breakfast.”

Science fair night. There were about a hundred people milling about the gym, pretending to be interested in the projects.

Hunter stood beside Matt’s table. “I don’t get it.”

“That’s ’cause you’re too lazy to read.” Cody waved at the explanation Matt had posted. “Which isn’t a surprise, since
you’re too lazy to even do your own project. Did you think no one would notice you borrowed your brother’s?”

Hunter’s project was supposed to be a volcano, but after three years in storage, the “lava” kept running out through the holes mice had chewed.

Matt heard a snort. He glanced over to see Fen, who sported a fresh black eye. He was there with Laurie, keeping his head ducked down like he was trying to hide his shiner.

As Laurie approached Matt’s table, Fen scowled. Laurie just gave him a look, and then asked Matt, “What’s it supposed to be?”

Matt started to explain, but then noticed his granddad and two of the Thorsen Elders heading over, so he switched to his grown-up lecture.

“It’s from a Norse myth,” he said. “The wolves, Sköll and Hati, chase the sun, Sól, and the moon, Máni.”

He waved to the board, where shadow wolves were supposed to be chasing two glowing balls on a modified railroad track. It hadn’t quite worked, though, and they weren’t actually moving. Biting off more than he could chew, his dad had said. Still, it looked okay. Granddad and the others had stopped now for a better look.

“In the story, they finally do catch them.” Matt leaned over to push the wolves around the track, and they picked up speed until they moved over the balls, and the toy globe in the middle went dark. “That marks the beginning of
Ragnarök. The battle of the gods. From a scientific point of view, we can see this as an explanation for eclipses. Many cultures had a myth to explain why the sun would disappear and how to get it back.”

He motioned to a second board, covered in eclipse pictures and graphs and descriptions. It was a rush job, and it looked like it, but it wasn’t as bad as some… or so he kept telling himself.

“That’s very interesting, Matty,” his grandfather said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Where did you come up with an idea like that?”

Matt shrugged. “It just came to me.”

“Did it?”

Granddad’s blue eyes caught Matt’s, and under his stare, Matt felt his knees wobble. His grandfather studied him for another minute, his lips pursed behind his graying red beard. Then he clapped Matt on the back, murmured something to the Elders, and they moved on.

Matt got a B, which was great for a rushed project that didn’t actually work right. His teachers seemed happy. His parents weren’t. They’d headed out as he packed up his project, and he’d taken it apart carefully, slowly, hoping they’d get tired of waiting and leave.

“So it just came to you,” said a voice behind him.

It was Granddad. The gym was empty now, the last kids and parents streaming out.

Matt nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t win.”

His grandfather put his arm around Matt’s shoulders. “Science isn’t your strongest subject. You got a B. I think that’s great.” His grandfather pointed to the honorable mention ribbon on Matt’s table. “And that’s better than great.”

Of the thirty projects at the fair, five got an honorable mention. Plus there were the first-, second-, and third-place winners. So it wasn’t really much of an accomplishment, but Matt mumbled a thanks and started stacking his pages.

“So, Matty, now that it’s just us, tell me, how
did
it come to you?”

Matt shrugged. “I had a dream.”

“About what?”

“The wolves devouring the sun and moon. The start of the Great Winter.”