So we need to be far enough ahead that they can’t catch us.

Fen stepped forward. “Do you have extra horses, or do we share with you?”

“It is not our place to take you to the descendants. You must find them yourselves,” Hildar said.

“So you’ll tell us where they are?” Matt prompted.

The Valkyrie frowned. “No. We will tell you where you can go to learn where they are.”

“Uh-huh.” Fen’s hopes of real help were quickly vanishing, but maybe it was a case of the Valkyries just not understanding. “Could you make it a little less complicated? We’re talking about the end of the world here.”

The look she shot him made him step backward, but all she did was say, “First, you must be tested.”

“I haven’t studied,” Matt said.

Fen stifled a laugh, but either Hildar didn’t get the joke or didn’t think it was funny.

“It is not that kind of test,” she said. “You must win a war.”

“I get that,” Matt said. “But I’m pretty good at fighting already. Can you just skip the scavenger hunt and do this the old-fashioned way? Mano a mano. I take on a challenger.”

The other Valkyries murmured among themselves in a language Fen didn’t know, and Hildar shook her head. “You are indeed a son of Thor: you think you can overcome any obstacle with a hammer in one hand and a stein of mead in the other.”

“I don’t think they’ll let me have mead, but I wouldn’t mind the realHammer.” Matt fingered his amulet.

All the Valkyries just stared, stone-faced. Fen felt just as frustrated as they looked. Sure, Thorsen didn’t know what Fen had risked or what trouble awaited if the Raiders caught up with them, but here they were with an offer of help that was being dashed as quickly as it had arrived. He didn’t feel like arguing the matter, either, but Matt was persistent. Fen had to give him credit for that. He was ready to walk away, but Thorsen was obviously still clinging to the hope that the Valkyries could be convinced to offer genuine aid.

Matt sighed. “Come on. It’s a war. The Midgard Serpent isn’t going to let us settle this over a game of Tafl.” He paused. “Unless that’s a possibility, ’cause I’m pretty good at that, too. Would save a lot of trouble. Lot less messy, too. So, what do you think?”

“I think you are not taking this seriously enough,” Hildar said.

She seemed to think that Thorsen was being flip with her, but she’d already said it wasn’t a fight. It only made sense to come up with other possible types of challenges. Fen didn’t figure pointing that out would earn them any favors, though, so he kept his mouth shut and waited.

“The fate of the world is in your hands,” one of the other Valkyries said.

Laurie stepped forward, drawing everyone’s gaze to her. “Then helpus.”

Fen felt a flash of worry and eased closer to her. She was where his loyalty should be—and would be. Hildar saw his movement and smiled.

“You’re the descendants of gods,” Hildar said, almost kindly. “They died, and it’s up to you now to fulfill the roles in the great fight. Ragnarök comes. This is your duty. We can’t assume your duty for you.”

“I didn’t sign up for this. None of us did,” Fen objected. It was like the world had spun backward a thousand years and they were now old enough to leave home and get married, old enough to fight, old enough to die. They were being asked to risk death because somewhere forever ago they had relatives who were gods. Worse still, those gods had died and left them a mess to handle.

“Did you not?” Hildar asked.

And Fen wondered briefly how much she knew. He hadmade a choice. When the Raiders came at Thorsen, Fen had chosen. When they were on the longship and Fen had heard Thorsen talk about Ragnarök just like Skull had talked about it, Fen had chosen. He’d decided to throw in on the side of the gods, the side that the prophecy said would lose. There was a part of him that wanted to be better than the god who was his long-gone ancestor, be a hero instead of a troublemaker, and maybe in doing so keep the monsters from winning. Being wulfenkinddidn’t make Skull or anyone else a monster, but wanting to destroy the world certainly did.

“What are we supposed to do?” Matt asked.

“We would prefer you to win,” Hildar replied, not quite answering the more practical question Fen suspected Matt was asking. The Valkyrie continued, “If you are to win, you must be ready. You must not be children, waiting for things to be handed to you. You must find the others. In time, you must find Odin. You must collect Mjölnir, a feather from each of Odin’s ravens, and the shield. These things will help you fight the serpent.”

“Mjölnir? You mean… theMjölnir? Thor’s Hammer?” Matt looked like someone had offered him a great big prize, which, Fen supposed, she kind of had. A god’s hammer would be pretty handy in a fight with monsters. It was a shame that no one was offering him a superweapon, too.

After another of those glances that made Fen think Hildar knew more than he’d like, she looked back at Matt and her lips twitched with the faintest sign of a smile. “That is what you wanted, is it not, son of Thor?”

“I was kidding,” Matt said in a half-shocked voice. He took a deep breath. “So Mjölnir, feathers, and some shield. And the other kids. And Odin.”

“You’ll give us a clue, though, right?” Fen interjected. “That’s what you said: you’d help.”

Hildar nodded. “Indeed.” She looked at them each in turn and then said, “Seek the twins first. To find them, go see the presidents. Their faces hold the answer.”

Then she lifted her hand, and all the Valkyries turned away.

The riders swung onto their horses’ backs. In an instant, hooves pounded; the horses and their riders were a blur, and then they were gone.

“Seriously?” Fen said, spinning around to face Laurie and Matt. “Seriously? Answers on the faces of the presidents? What kind of riddle is that?”

“It’s not a riddle,” Laurie said evenly. “It’s Mount Rushmore.”

“Yes!” Matt already looked calm again, and Fen wished briefly that he were that sure of himself—not always or anything, but sometimes.

Matt continued, “They mean we’ll find the answer at Mount Rushmore. That’s got to be it. Something there will lead us to the twins.”

“What twins?” Laurie had a nervous look on her face. “Sorry. My mom was anti–Blackwell history because my dad gets so into it. I had no idea it would ever matter.”

Fen felt another flash of guilt. He hadn’t had a choice about keeping secrets, but he also hadn’t tried to convince her to pay attention to the myths, even though he knew she might turn into a wolf like him. Now she was caught up in a dangerous situation with a lot less information than she needed to have.

Uncle Stig is going to kill me… unless the Raiders do it first.

While Fen was stressing out, Matt seemed perfectly calm now that Laurie had asked a question he could answer. He launched into explaining the myths: “The twins are Frey and Freya. In the old stories, Freya is the goddess of love and beauty. Frey is the god of weather and fertility. We need to find their descendants, who are apparently also twins.” Matt paused. “Two for one. That’ll make it easier.”

Fen scowled at him. “I don’t think any of this is going to be easy.”

“And that’s the point,” Laurie murmured.

“Okay, then,” Matt said. “I guess we visit the presidents.”

Blackwell wasn’t too far away from Mount Rushmore, but it was a long enough walk that Fen wished he could change into a wolf and run. He wasn’t about to leave his cousin behind, though. He’d promised Uncle Stig that he’d keep an eye on her, especially around boys. The idea of telling any of the family that he had left her alone with a Thorsen made his stomach twist inside him. He glanced at Matt and Laurie talking animatedly while they walked toward Mount Rushmore. It seemed like just friendship, but even that would anger the family.