He was supposed to start with Fen. And then what? He had no idea. He only hoped something would come to him.

He was waiting for Cody and their friends to get off the Avalanche—his stomach sure couldn’t handle that tonight—when he saw Fen trudge past without Laurie, his gaze on the ground, boots scuffing the sawdust as he headed for the exit, looking like he’d had a really bad day.

Matt figured Fen had a lot of bad days, with his parents gone, being passed from relative to relative. Even if Dad said that’s because Fen was too wild for anyone to handle, maybe all the moving around madehim a little wild. And those cuts and bruises on his face… Matt had heard Fen was staying with his cousin Kris, and everyone knew Kris was quick with his fists.

Thinking about that put Matt in the right state of mind to talk to Fen. Not to tell him about Ragnarök and the Midgard Serpent, of course. That’d be crazy. If Matt had any chance of winning Fen over, he had to take it slow. He’d just happen to be leaving the fair at the same time and bump into Fen and offer him some…

Matt looked around. Corn dogs. Sure, that might work.

He told Cody he wasn’t feeling great and was catching a ride home. Then he grabbed a couple of corn dogs. By that time, Fen was leaving. Matt jogged to catch up, but one aunt and two cousins stopped him on the way.

When he reached the exit, Fen had veered right, passing the parking lot and heading into the field. The sun was almost down, but the sky was oddly bright with a faint tinge of yellow. The wind seemed to be picking up, promising another cold night.

Fimbulwinter was coming.

Matt shivered and walked as fast as he could toward Fen, who’d disappeared around some trees. Matt broke into a run then, slowing only when he’d passed the trees, and saw Fen just ahead, trudging along.

“Hey,” Matt called. “Fen? Hold up!”

Fen glanced over his shoulder. Then he turned back and kept walking.

“Fen!”

“Shove off, Thorsen.”

Matt jogged in front of Fen and held out the tray of corn dogs. “I was just leaving, too, and I thought you might want these. I bought them, but I’m stuffed.”

“And I look like I’d want your leftovers?”

“They’re not leftovers,” Matt exclaimed. “I never touched them. Even the ketchup’s still in the packets. See?”

“You don’t want them?” Fen asked.

“No, I thought I did, but I ate so much at the feast….”

“Fine.” Fen took each by the stick and whipped them into the field. “The crows can have them. They’re scavengers. Not me.”

Fen walked around Matt and kept going. Matt looked out at the corn dogs, yellow blobs on the dark field, and felt his amulet warm. Maybe offering Fen food hadn’t been a good idea, but he didn’t need to do that. He—

Loki may, or he may not. That is up to you.

Whether Fen led the monsters into the final battle depended on Matt. He took a deep breath, broke into a jog, and called to Fen, but a sudden gust of wind whipped his words away and nearly knocked him off his feet. He recovered and caught up to Fen again, this time walking beside him.

“I noticed your face looks kind of messed—” Matt began. “I mean, you have some bruises.”

“Do I? Huh. Hadn’t noticed.”

“About that…” Matt cleared his throat. “If you’re having problems—with Kris or anyone else—you should talk to the counselor at school. No one should do that to you. You’ve got rights.”

Fen stopped and turned. A gust of wind whipped past, and Fen’s hair fell over his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“If someone’s hitting you, you should talk to Ms. Early at school. She can help. It’s against the law for a grown-up to hit a kid. You don’t need to take that.”

“No one knocks me around, Thorsen, unless I’m knocking them back. I got into it with someone, okay? Someone who fought back. Someone with more guts than you.” Fen didn’t shove Matt, but he looked like he was considering it.

“More guts than me? Um, you know what I said last week, about your memory? It really does suck, because I’m pretty sure I didfight back. You jumped me, and you didn’t land a single hit before I knocked you flat on your butt. Which is where you stayed.”

Fen lunged. Matt ducked, swung around, and nailed Fen with a right hook that sent him stumbling. As Matt watched Fen recover, he reflected that this might not be the best way to make friends.

Matt clenched his fists at his sides and held himself still. “I don’t want to do this, Fen.”

“Really? Because it sure looks like you do.”

Fen charged. Matt told himself he wouldn’t hit him back. Defensive moves only. Except, as Coach Forde always said, he really wasn’t good at the defensive stuff. So when Fen charged into Matt, they both went down.

Fen went to grab Matt by the hair, but Matt caught his arm and tried to hold it—just hold it—but Fen started thrashing and kicking, teeth bared, growling, and the only way Matt could stop him was another right hook that sent him skidding across the grass.

Then a blast of wind hit, so strong that it knocked Matt to his knees. He struggled up, blind, his eyes watering. When they cleared, he could make out figures. At least four. Surrounding them. The one in the middle towered over him.

Grown-ups. Someone at the fair had seen the fight and come over, and now Matt had been caught fighting Fen, and his dad was going to kill him before the Midgard Serpent even had a chance—

He blinked as the figures came clear. Not grown-ups. Kids. Six of them. Wild-looking kids, some in well-worn military surplus, others in ripped jeans and T-shirts. Raider Scouts.A weird Boy-Scouts-gone-bad kind of group. His dad and his deputies ran them off every time they found their campsite. Raiders didn’t get their name because they thought it was cool: they really were like old-fashioned Viking Raiders, swooping into town, stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down before disappearing into the woods again.

The biggest one looked about sixteen. He wore shredded jeans, hiking boots, and a skintight sleeveless shirt that showed scars on both arms. The group leader. Had to be. As Matt tensed, he kept his gaze on him. First sign of trouble, that was his target.

The leader reached down and picked up Fen by the scruff of his neck. He leaned over to whisper something before tossing him aside. Fen hit the ground, and Matt took a step toward him. It didn’t matter that Fen had been trying to beat the snot out of him; Matt wasn’t going to stand there and let outsiders treat a Blackwell kid like that.

But as soon as Matt stepped forward, the boy to his right lunged. Matt wheeled and nailed him with a left. There was a satisfying thwackand a grunt of surprise as the kid staggered back. Matt started toward him, but another kid leaped onto his back.

Matt yanked the kid over his shoulder, thinking as he did that the kid seemed awfully light. When Matt threw him down, he found himself standing over a boy no more than ten. Matt froze then, his gut clenching, an apology on his lips. The boy grabbed Matt’s leg. Matt tried to kick him off, but halfheartedly. When you grow up bigger than other guys, you learn really fast that if you so much as shove a little kid you’ll get hauled down to the office for a lecture on bullying and a call home.

The kid sunk his teeth into Matt’s shin. Matt yelped and tried to yank back, but another kid jumped him. He wheeled to swing, but this one was a girl, and seeing her face, even twisted into a snarl, made his hand stop midpunch. Hit a little kid? Or a girl? He knew better than that.

The wind howled past, stinging his eyes again, and he dimly saw the girl go flying. For a second, Matt thought he’d accidentally hit her, but when he blinked, he saw Fen slamming his fist into her gut. Then he turned on Matt.

“I need to rescue you from a little kid and a girl? Really?” Fen grabbed for the boy, still snarling on Matt’s leg, but another kid jumped him from behind. As Fen hit him, he yelled back at Matt. “Fight, Thorsen!”