She paused. Fen was relaxed enough for her to ask him about the other thing, but that didn’t mean he’d like it. She put a hand on his forearm. “You still need to tell me what happened.” She pointed at his swollen and blackened eye. “And about the shield. If Thorsen tells the sheriff, we’re going to get in so much trouble.”

Fen ignored her, as he always did when he didn’t feel like answering.

“Seriously, Fen! If they go to your house and find it, we’re going to—”

“It’s not at the house,” Fen interrupted. “I don’t have it, and ifI knew anything, that’s not enough to get me—or you—in trouble.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Trust me. I won’t ever let anything happen to you. You know that, don’t you? You’re my sister even though we don’t have the same parents.” Then he head-butted her. It almost hid his blush. He was embarrassed every time he admitted to having feelings.

For a moment, Laurie didn’t react. She knew he’d stolen it, but she also knew he looked out for her.

The look on his face was nervous, and he pulled his arm away from her—but he still tried to sound like he wasn’t hurt when he said, “Come on, fish. Or are you afraid you’ll slip off the Ferris wheel?”

“Jerk.” She shoved him carefully. Hugs weirded him out, but a gentle shove, punch, or head-butt he was okay with. “I’m not afraid of anything… as long as you’re not.”

SEVEN

MATT

“PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE”

When Matt saw the little girl racing into the rec center, he yelled at her to stop, but she kept running, bare feet slapping on the pavement, blond braids streaming behind. He flew through the entrance—only to see her running for the closed door into the private meeting his grandfather was having with the Elders.

Great. They choose me to stop Ragnarök, and what’s the first thing I do? Prove I can’t even stop a little girl from bursting into their meeting.

He could just turn around and walk away. Pretend he hadn’t seen where she was going. Or pretend he never met her in the first place. The easy way out, which meant he’d never take it, even if he wished he could.

He raced across the main room as fast as he could. But the girl had stopped at the meeting-room door and was just standing there, waiting patiently as she watched him with those weirdly grown-up blue eyes.

“Now you hear,” she whispered. She pointed at the door. “Listen.”

He started to tell her they had to leave when he caught the word Ragnarök. Then his name.

He leaned toward the door. Yes, he shouldn’t eavesdrop. Totally disrespectful. But the conversation was about him, which kind of made it his business. If he was caught, well, he’d just chased this little girl inside so he could return her to her parents. That’s champion-worthy behavior, isn’t it?

“… no need to tell the others yet. What I told them at the Thingis enough for now,” his grandfather was saying. “Those who need to know the truth already do. For the rest, it will come as a shock, and we must ease them into it.”

Was he talking about Matt being chosen as champion? That they had to tell the Thorsens who didn’t live in Blackwell? In Matt’s opinion, it was the ones who did live there—and knewhim—who’d be the most shocked, and they’d already heard.

“We must begin a quiet campaign to convince them that Ragnarök is not the end of the world. It is a change. A cleansing. Ultimately, it is an event that will benefit our people, present and future.”

He leaned closer.

“Ragnarök, as it is foretold in the myths, will not end the world. We must remind them of that. It will be a time of great turmoil and upheaval and a tragic loss of life, but the world will emerge the better for it. America is corrupt, from Wall Street to Washington, and it is the same in every country around the world. No politician or advocacy group can change that. Our world needs cleansing. Our world needs Ragnarök.”

The other Elders chimed in their agreement.

What? No. I’m hearing wrong. The champion is supposed tostop Ragnarök.

“We know how this must work. Matt must fight the serpent. Matt must defeat the serpent… but he must be defeated in turn. The champions of the gods must die, and the monsters must die, as the prophecy says, so the world can be reborn.”

Matt had stopped breathing.

They don’t want me to win.

His grandfather continued. “I do not take this lightly. I will be honest in saying that when I first realized Matt was the champion, I prayed that the runes would tell me I was mistaken. But I have come to realize that this is right. The boy is strong and he is good, and he is deserving of this honor. That is how I must see this. My grandson is being honored in the highest fashion, and he will do us proud, and he will take his place in the halls of Valhalla as a champion with the long-dead gods. As a hero. Our hero.”

Matt stumbled away from the door.

They expect me to die. They want the ice age to come, the world to end. I’m not their champion. I’m their sacrifice.

Of course I am. That’s why they chose me. Because I’m guaranteed to screw this up.

He’d been planning to tell Granddad exactly that: You made a mistake.But there’d been a little bit of him that hoped he really was the champion, that he’d finally show his family and everyone else—

The little girl took his hand and tugged him across the room, and he was so dazed, he just followed. When they were at the door, she whispered, “You seek Odin.”

Odin? Why would I…?

Because Odin was the leader of the gods. The most powerful of them all. The father of Thor.

He stared at the little girl. Who was she? Whatwas she? Not just a little girl—he was sure of that now.

“Odin will tell me how to fix this, right?” Matt said. “He’ll tell me how to defeat the Midgard Serpent and survive.”

Again, she looked confused. “I do not know. That is to come. That is not now. I know only—”

“You only know what is now. Yeah, I got that the first…” His gaze shifted to the mosaic on his left. A scene of Thor asking the Norns for advice.

The Norns. Three women who knew the destiny of gods and humans. In a lot of the old stories, Future was the youngest. But their tradition—and the mosaic—followed one from the old sagas. The oldest was Past. Then came Future. And finally, the youngest Norn—Present.

He turned to the little girl, and his heart started thumping again. By this point, he was pretty sure it was never going to beat at a normal rate again.

“Who are you?” he asked as the hairs on his neck prickled.

“You know.”

“One of the Norns. Present.”

She nodded. “I said you know.”

“And youdon’t know anything except what’s happening now. Or what should be happening now. So where do I get the rest?”

“From Future. She waits.”

“Where will I find her?”

“I do not know. That is to come—”

“All right, all right. Where is she now?”

The little girl pointed. “Out there. She waits.”

Matt followed her finger to the door. “Where exactly out there?”

No answer. He turned. The girl was gone.

This time when Matt walked into the fair, he still didn’t notice the smells, the sights, the sounds, but only because he was focused on his task. Find the Norn.

Find the Norn? Are you crazy? A Norn? Like in the stories? That’s all they are, you know. Stories.

Earlier, when he’d thought of fighting the serpent, he’d tried not to focus on what he believed. It was easy when they were old stories, like Noah’s Ark. You could say, “Sure, that could happen.” But then you thought about it, really thought about it, and said, “Seriously? One boat with two of every animal on Earth? How does that work?” It was easier to just not think about it. Accept it. That’s what he’d done his whole life.