Arthur and the Fenris Wolf (20 page)

Meanwhile, Arthur was in his living-room, back watching TV. He was still annoyed with himself for upsetting Ash, but the television helped to take his mind off it. It was some Australian soap opera and, even though he couldn't follow the storyline, it was nice to soak up other people's problems for a change. He was getting hungry so was glad when he heard a noise from the kitchen.

‘Dad?' he called out. He hadn't heard Joe come in but, since the TV volume was up so loud, he could easily have missed him. He looked at the time. It was just turning 6.30. ‘Dad?' he called again, getting up and moving in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Did you forget about the parent–teacher meeting?' There was no response. ‘Dad?'

Arthur swung open the kitchen door. The light was on but no one was inside. Must have been my imagination, he thought, turning back towards the living-room. He heard something swish through the air and then felt the collision as it knocked into the back of his skull before his legs gave out from under him. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

In a time before history was written down, in Asgard, the realm of the gods, a storm is brewing. Wind and sleet are lashing the harsh yet beautiful terrain. The gale is too much for the trees and they bow to the gusts, their great trunks creaking in the strain to remain rooted while branches are left bare by the squall. But one tree alone stands upright. Its branches are ripe with fruit and berries and bright-green leaves. Its trunk stands bold and fierce, straight as an arrow with no twist or gnarl blighting its perfect appearance. This tree is known as Yggdrasill.

The tree rises high above the land, balancing on the edge of a tall precipice over a waterfall. Its roots sink deep into the ground, reaching each of the worlds: those of the gods, of man and of the dead. The water that flows by it and over the edge of the cliff falls into a deep pool on the forest floor below. This pool is the Well of Urd. It is said to be bottomless and to contain all the knowledge that is, was and will be. And it is now, as winds howl across Asgard, that the Fenris Wolf emerges from the woodland next to the well …

He is no longer wolf-shaped but stands on two feet as a man. An hour ago, he managed to escape the binds that the gods had left him in. He could not have managed it on his own, however. The girl had helped. He looks down at her in his arms as he emerges from the forest and into moonlight. Her hair is strewn over her face. She is unconscious. Not dead, just in an impossibly deep sleep. It happened just after she freed him and he doesn't understand why, but he could not leave her there. He changed his form to a man so that he could carry her to safety. With his Wolf-father Loki bound somewhere and his brother the World Serpent about to fall, this girl, his sister, is all he has left. He needs to save her now as she has saved him. The Fenris Wolf knows that the gods will track him. Once they discover that he has left the island, they will rage and rant and follow him to the edge of the world. He must find somewhere to hide. But all he knows is Asgard. And Odin rules here.

He slouches past the Well of Urd, not realising what it is, when he hears voices call his name. He looks back over his shoulder, certain that the gods have found him. So soon, he thinks with dismay. But there is no one there.

‘Fenris Wolf, look at us,' the voices say again.

‘Who …?' He swivels slowly towards the well, the source of the sound.

Three figures appear in the waterfall. He can tell from their long hair and hourglass forms that they are female, wearing sleek silk dresses that cling to their frames. They come to a stop just at the point where the water foams into the well. Any detail in their faces is obscured behind the rushing water. They stand so still that, for a moment, the Fenris Wolf wonders if his eyes are playing tricks on him. Perhaps there were statues there all along and the sense that they'd moved had been a mirage caused by the flowing water. But when one of them speaks again, he knows that they are real.

‘Greetings, Fenrir,' the three voices speak as one.

‘What manner of creatures are you?' He does not have much knowledge of gods but has never seen any god like these.

‘We are not gods,' they tell him, as if reading his mind. ‘We are the Norns. We can read the waters of this well and can tell you of your present, of your future and of your fate.'

‘Tell me then!' he cries frantically. ‘Tell me all!'

The Norn on the left looks into the well first. She stares at the deep swirling waters then looks back at Fenrir.

‘I am Verdandi,' she explains. ‘And I can read the present. You have escaped from Odin's binds with the help of the sister in your arms. He has just discovered your disappearance and even now is in his great hall, calling the other gods together to find you.'

Fenrir takes a step back at this.

‘I must go,' he says. ‘Tell me all I need to know quickly. How can I hide, Verdandi?'

‘My sister may have more to tell you about that, Fenrir,' says Verdandi, as the Norn on the right-hand side now looks into the well. She studies the black waters even closer before looking up.

‘I am Skuld,' she tells him, ‘and it is I who can read the future. The Well of Urd tells me that you should escape to Midgard, the land of man. The gods will not reach you there.'

‘But how, oh great Skuld?'

‘Over the next ridge is the bridge Bifrost. It will take you to a place called Dubh Linn. You will find safety there for a thousand years.'

‘A thousand years? Tell me more.'

‘Only I can tell you of your fate, Fenrir,' says the Norn in the centre. ‘I am Urd. And this well is mine and mine alone.'

‘Tell me then!' He is growing impatient now as Urd looks into the frothing well. Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, she looks back at him and speaks.

‘I am the oldest Norn. And I have seen your fate. No man, nor god, nor beast should know all of his fate, but I will tell you what I can.'

‘Hurry then!'

‘Your fate is also hers.' A ghostly, dripping arm points out from the waterfall at his sister. ‘She will be locked in sleep until he returns.'

‘Who?' Fenrir asks. ‘Who returns?'

‘Your Wolf-father, Loki.'

Fenrir becomes excited at this. It means he will be reunited with his father one day. And his sister will awaken from her slumber.

‘So we will continue what we began,' he says excitedly. ‘I will make him an army as promised and we will conquer all the worlds.'

‘No creature should know their fate,' the Norn Urd mutters.

‘Wait!' He stops and looks at the woman in the water. ‘Why do you help me?'

‘No creature should know their fate,' she says cryptically again before receding into the stone wall. The others follow and are gone from his sight in seconds.

He does as they said and climbs over the nearest ridge. It would be a struggle for a normal man, especially carrying the girl. But Fenrir is no ordinary man and manages it easily.

A glimmering rainbow awaits him over the ridge, the shades of colour shifting continuously. He has heard of it. Bifrost – the bridge between the worlds. Taking one last look over his shoulder, he races towards the bridge, towards Dubh Linn and towards Loki.

Arthur opened his eyes to a blinding light glaring into his face. He shut them straight away once more, wincing at the throbbing pain at the back of his head. With his eyelids tightly shut, he collected his thoughts. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Ash and how he'd felt after telling her he was going back to Kerry. He could still see her disappointed face in his mind, the way she'd blushed as her eyes started to glisten with tears. After that he'd … what? Television! He'd watched some TV. And then he'd heard a sound, some noise from the kitchen. He recalled investigating it and then … pain. Blackness. Nothing. And now that he was awake again, the back of his head throbbed dully. It had probably come up in a lump. He went to touch the tender area but found that he couldn't move his arms. He was sitting in a hard wooden chair and his hands were restrained behind his back. Even his ankles were clamped somehow to the legs of the chair.

Just stay calm, he told himself. Wherever you are, whatever's going on, just stay calm and you'll get out of it.

He tried again to open his eyes and, even though he managed it this time, he still had to squint against the brilliant glare in front of him. He could make out the source now: it was a high-wattage desk lamp on a bare wooden table, positioned to face him. He could even feel the heat radiating from the bulb. He gazed around him. Apart from the lamp, the room he was in was in total darkness. It seemed to be a large room – with a parquet floor, he noticed when he looked down. His ankles, he realised, were bound to the chair with plastic cable ties: easy to get on, impossible to get off without something to cut through them.

‘Hello?' he called, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty room. ‘Let me out!'

As his voice faded he struggled in the chair, hoping to loosen the bonds, but to no avail.

Suddenly, a door opened at the far end of the room. He couldn't make out much through the glare of the light, apart from some shadows entering. They walked across the room towards him. He judged from the footsteps creaking on the old floor that there were two of them.

‘Who's there?' he asked as the footsteps approached. ‘Who is it?'

‘How are you feeling, Arthur?' The person leading the way tilted the light so he could finally see.

‘
Ellie
?'

She nodded to him grimly, laying her hands on the tabletop. She was wearing jeans, a cardigan and the ever-present trench coat. Ex stepped up behind her and pulled a chair out for her to sit on. She sat and crossed her legs, keeping her eyes on Arthur the whole time.

‘How's your head?' she asked.

‘It could be better,' he said, easily ignoring the pain in light of this new revelation. Ash had been right about Ellie. He should have listened to her.

‘I apologise for that,' she said. ‘As I told you the day I met you, Ex doesn't know his own strength.'

Her brother grunted an apology from somewhere in the darkness.

‘First you knock me out, then you kidnap me! What on earth do you think you're doing?' demanded Arthur.

‘I have some important questions for you, and you wouldn't answer them when I tried talking to you normally.'

‘That doesn't give you the right to go around kidnapping people. Now let me go!' Arthur fumed.

‘Not until you tell us the truth, Arthur.'

‘The truth? About what?'

She leaned forward, her face serious, and said, ‘Everything.'

‘About everything? You mean the museum?'

‘That,' she said, relaxing back in her chair again, ‘and about what happened last October.'

October, Arthur wondered. What does she mean? Ellie can't possibly know about the World Serpent. Loki wiped the memories of that day from everyone in the world. Everyone except him, Ash and Max, of course.

‘I don't know what you mean,' he bluffed.

‘Sure you do,' she said. ‘There are no records anywhere in the world for 22 October last year. I want to know why and I think you know something about it. I'm also quite curious about the Viking war-hammer in your bedroom.'

So she
had
been snooping in his room.

‘Who are you, Ellie?' asked Arthur suspiciously. ‘Really?'

‘Really, I think you should tell her what she wants to know!' Ex blurted, taking a step forward, his hands balled into fists.

‘It's all right, Ex,' Ellie said in a soothing tone. ‘He has every right to ask.' She turned back to Arthur and said, ‘I'll tell you if you answer me first.'

‘How do I know I can trust you?' How do I know she's not working with Loki, he thought to himself, pretending to be my friend so she can report back to the god on what I'm doing.

‘You don't know. Except that you said we were friends and friends are supposed to trust each other, Arthur.' Her lips turned up in a wry smile. ‘You said so yourself.'

‘Friends don't usually kidnap each other, though, Ellie.'

‘Hmm,' she said, seeming to contemplate his point. ‘That's true.' She looked over her shoulder to her brother. ‘Ex, will you do the honours?'

With that, Ex whipped a switchblade out of his pocket. It swished open and gleamed in the bright light. Then he advanced on Arthur menacingly.

‘Don't!' Arthur cried, struggling in the chair and trying desperately to snap the cable ties. ‘Stay away!' But Ex just kept coming. He put a strong hand on Arthur's shoulder to steady him. Arthur's heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel the blood rushing through his veins. Then suddenly he felt his hands falling free. He raised them to his face: the wrists were bruised from the tight cable ties but not badly. Ex went around to the front of Arthur's chair and slid the knife into each of the other ties securing his captive. He cut them off and they fell to the ground by Arthur's feet.