Arthur Quinn and the World Serpent (22 page)

For a moment Arthur felt total despair – they were losing and losing badly. Then he heard Loki call out to the Jormungand, and when he looked at the creature Arthur saw that it was still hovering right above the Spire – the Spire with its sharp tip piercing the sky like a spear. It was bigger and stronger than anything the original Viking army would have had, and might be able to penetrate those tough scales. An idea flashed into his head – if he could only knock Loki down now, while he wasn't looking, and through that link make the serpent fall, then there was a chance that at least one of their opponents could be dealt with permanently. He looked around in desperation, but he had nothing to hit the god with.

Suddenly, Arthur felt something in his hand under the water. He lifted it out. The hammer was there, right in his grasp at the time when he needed it most. It felt lighter somehow and he rubbed the handle. He briefly wondered if something had guided the weapon to him, but then quickly turned his thoughts to the task at hand.

Arthur looked directly at Loki on the plinth. He had to hit him just right to make him fall straight down. He concentrated, then reached the hammer back behind his head and launched it with all the force he could manage. It tumbled through the air, turning as it went, and hit Loki square in the back, between the shoulder blades. With an anguished groan the god fell face forward into the flood.

As Loki fell, so did the Jormungand. It crashed straight onto the Spire, which pierced its scales and went right through its cold heart. The Vikings stopped firing their arrows, Max came out from behind his shield, the people in the buildings stared through the windows and Arthur watched in awe as the creature screamed and writhed in agony, its wings flapping helplessly and its feet scrabbling at the air. After a moment the struggling subsided and finally the serpent was still, as Loki, floundering in the water, watched helplessly.

‘No!' screeched Loki as the serpent died. Hot, salty tears ran down his scarred face. ‘Nooooo!' His voice echoed off the buildings around them.

The body of the World Serpent shuddered before evaporating into a bright-green light. The light blazed so brilliantly that everyone had to look away. When they opened their eyes and looked back, all trace of the Jormungand was gone.

The rain had stopped also, which Arthur, still bobbing about in the water, was relieved to find. Or, rather, it had stopped momentarily because suddenly the drops started to flow upwards. Drop after drop, puddle after puddle, flood after flood: all the water in the street flowed up into the sky, retreating back into the green clouds. It flowed around Arthur as it went and he felt himself slowly sinking to the ground. It was like a bath emptying, only the bath in this case was the city of Dublin.

There was so much water under the Viking boat that it managed to pull the boat upwards with it. Bjorn, Max and the other Viking soldiers jumped out and into the lowering water. They watched as the waters pulled their boat towards the clouds.

As all the water retreated and the last drops flew back into the green clouds, the boat had nothing to suspend it any more. It fell back down to earth. The dead army ran out of its way, Bjorn carrying Max on his shoulders. The boat crashed onto the tarmac like the helicopter had earlier, exploding in a mess of wood splinters and metal.

The sky above was clear again and the sun was shining on the street as people started pouring out of the buildings. Arthur joined the army and Ash ran to them. Without a word, she hugged Max tightly, then turned to Arthur and flung her arms around him.

‘You did it!' she said. ‘You saved us all!' She kissed him on the cheek. When she pulled back from him, they both blushed and wouldn't meet each other's eyes.

‘Not just me,' he managed eventually, ‘them too.' He pointed to the surviving Vikings who were looking forlornly at their ruined boat.

‘Hey,' interrupted Max, ‘where's Loki?'

They looked around, searching the faces of the growing crowd: no sign of Loki in any of his guises anywhere. The only remaining trace of him was the hammer that had mysteriously reappeared at Arthur's feet.

‘I don't know,' Arthur replied as he picked up the hammer, ‘but all that matters now is that we won.' The three of them hugged each other as the spectators started to applaud.

Among the spectators was a young mother pushing a baby in a buggy. The baby – Little Aaron – had been crying all through the ordeal and only now, after the applause, did he stop wailing. She pinched his cheek adoringly.

‘You're very quiet all of a sudden,' she said as she pushed the buggy away from the crowd, finally able to go home.

What she didn't know was that the real Little Aaron had been hidden behind a parked car and was crying his eyes out. The baby in the buggy heard the wailing and grinned.

It didn't take Arthur or Ash long to work out what to do with the dead army. Now that their boat and home for the past thousand years had been destroyed, it should have been a problem. But as it happened, Arthur, Ash and the boy they'd known as Will had visited the perfect place about a week beforehand.

Due to the destruction and inevitable confusion following the Jormungand's attack, the city of Dublin was more or less closed for business: no shops, museums or schools opened. So the dead army really had no problem climbing over the fake stone wall into the Viking Experience. Arthur, Ash and Max led them around the empty recreation village, showing them the little huts they could live in.

‘As long as you don't move, just like those mannequins, when there are people about, you should be fine,' Arthur explained. ‘No one will suspect that you're real Vikings at all. Just don't have any wild parties!'

Bjorn nodded and grunted his thanks.

‘We'll come and visit you,' promised Arthur.

The entire army stood to attention and saluted the three children. They turned to leave but Arthur had one thing still on his mind.

‘Bjorn?' he asked. ‘I had a dream. And they said in it that when Loki was to escape it would mean Ragnarok. Do you know what that is – Ragnarok?'

Fear had crept into Bjorn's eyes at the mention of the word. He sadly nodded.

‘What is it, Bjorn?'

Bjorn opened his mouth and tried to form the words, but only grunts came out. He stood there looking frustrated until Ash had a brainwave. ‘Pen and paper, we need a pen and paper. He can write it down.'

Frantically they patted down their pockets but all they came up with was a soggy piece of tissue in Ash's pocket – no pen or pencil. Then one of the other Viking soldiers appeared with a piece of burnt stick. Bjorn took the stick and used the blackened end to draw some runes on the ground. Arthur looked at the runes and clutched the pendant in his hand. The other two children looked at him expectantly. ‘It says the end of the world,' he said, then added with a rueful smile, ‘again.'

Arthur, Ash and Max arrived home a couple of hours later, having retrieved their bikes from outside the Metro site. The Barry family were sitting around the living-room TV when they came in, still in their pyjamas, glued to the news.

‘Have you seen this?' exclaimed Mr Barry. ‘They're saying on the news that some giant snake thing attacked the city.'

‘Hold on,' said Stace, suspiciously eyeing-up Arthur's tunic, ‘where have you lot been?'

‘Yes, actually!' said Mrs Barry, tearing herself away from the TV. ‘Where have you been? And what's wrong with your leg, Max? Is that blood? And Arthur, what happened to your face?'

The three children looked at each other, then at the adults, then told the story they'd rehearsed in unison.

‘We went for an early game of football and a dog took our ball and we chased it, but Arthur tripped and fell and scratched his face and the dog bit Max's leg.'

‘What?' shrieked Mrs Barry. ‘Whose dog? I've a good mind to call the police –'

‘Calm down, Mom,' said Ash, as Max said, ‘I'm fine, really. It's not that bad.'

‘We didn't recognise the dog, Mrs Barry,' said Arthur. ‘I think it may have been a stray, and it ran off after we got the ball back.'

‘Well, if you're certain. But that bite looks like it might need stitches, Max. And probably a tetanus shot as well.' Max groaned at the thought of an injection. Mrs Barry pointed to Arthur and Ash. ‘You two go and get cleaned up and I'll take Max to the hospital. Arthur, be sure and clean that cut properly.'

‘Wait!' Stace stopped her. ‘Aren't you curious as to why Arthur is wearing that crazy get-up?'

‘No,' Mrs Barry said, ushering Max back out the door, ‘and it's rude to call someone's clothes a “crazy get-up”, young lady.'

Arthur and Ash rushed upstairs before Stace could ask any more awkward questions. Exhausted, they quickly fell asleep on the floor of Ash's bedroom, huddled together on some spare couch cushions.

As they slept on, someone else, in a different part of the country, was watching the news. She took great interest in the story of the giant snake. The news report was showing the only video footage they had of the scene, taken from the third floor of the bookshop on O'Connell Street on a mobile phone. She hit a button on her remote. The image freeze-framed. She knelt down on the soft-carpeted floor and put her face right next to the screen. Although the image was distorted and pixelated from this close, it was clear that what she was seeing was right. A boy, possibly twelve or thirteen years old, dressed in authentic Viking clothes and throwing a war hammer at a grown man. She vowed to find out exactly who this boy was and everything she could about him.

Arthur and Ash would have slept right through the day if Mrs Barry hadn't knocked on the door, waking them.

‘Arthur,' she said, ‘that nice young garda was just on the phone. Your father woke up this morning.'

Arthur sat up straight. ‘He did? Is he coming home?'

‘Not yet, dear. The hospital wants to keep an eye on him for a few more days. But the garda said he'll pick you up in a while if you want to visit your dad.'

Arthur leaped out of bed, grabbed the hammer and raced across the street to his house. He busied himself by tidying up and taking a hot shower. An hour later Garda Morrissey was at his door. When the garda led Arthur into the hospital ward, Joe was sitting up in bed. His right leg was now in a stiff cast and the swelling in his face had subsided but he was still badly bruised. Arthur hugged him tightly without saying a word. Joe winced.

‘Sorry,' said Arthur, stepping back.

‘It's okay,' Joe said, holding his ribs. ‘I'm just a bit delicate. Anyway, I'm glad I'm still around to feel the hug at all. So, what did I miss?'

‘Oh, nothing,' Arthur replied, ‘just a giant snake almost destroying Dublin.'

‘Same old, same old.' Joe pointed to his face. ‘You look like you've been in the wars yourself.'

‘Oh, this, it's nothing, I just fell over my own feet while playing football.'

‘So what do you reckon?' said Joe, this time pointing at his own face. ‘Will I still need a mask next week?'

‘What's next week?'

‘Hallowe'en.'

‘Oh yeah. I completely forgot.'

Across the city, the real Little Aaron was reunited with his mother. She could have sworn he was in the buggy as she pushed it away from the scene of all the action. Later on, she had joined a group of people watching the news of the serpent in a TV-shop window. The pictures on the screen were shocking, but not as shocking as it had been in real life. When she'd had enough and decided to head for home, she had found that the buggy was empty.

Luckily, some good Samaritan had found Aaron on O'Connell Street and, after some frantic phone calls to the gardaí, her son was back in her arms.

The story of the giant snake soon spread all over the world. The only video footage that existed of it had been taken on low-resolution mobile phones. Eyewitness accounts were featured on every news station in the world. Many of them mentioned the mysterious young boy who'd been spotted on O'Connell Street carrying a hammer.

Arthur, Ash and Max had decided not to fill their parents in on their part in the serpent incident. In fact, they didn't want to fill anyone in. They thought it was all over until Ash and Max went trick-or-treating to Arthur's on Hallowe'en.

Joe had been home for two days and life was getting back to normal. Ruairí and Deirdre had called over to see how he was doing. They were just leaving and he was leading them out to the door on his crutches.

‘Thanks for coming, guys,' he said. ‘Any plans for tonight?'

‘Well …' started Deirdre, blushing.

‘We're going on a date,' finished Ruairí.

‘A date?' Joe seemed surprised. ‘That's great! I'm glad to hear it.'