Loki's Wolves by K. L. Armstrong, M. A. Marr Read Free Book Online Page A

talking. “Last week, a volcano erupted that scientists had sworn was dormant. Today, they closed down Yellowstone Park because the hot springs and cauldrons are boiling over, releasing deadly amounts of poisonous gas into the atmosphere.” His grandfather paced across the tiny stage. “Dragon’s Mouth is one of those. The Black Dragon’s Cauldron is another. Aptly named, as our history tells us, because what keeps those cauldrons bubbling—and what makes fire spew from the mouths of mountains—is the great dragon, Nidhogg, the corpse eater. For centuries, his destruction has been kept to a minimum because he is otherwise occupied with his task of gnawing at the roots of the world tree. But now he no longer seems distracted. We know what that means.”
    Matt felt icy fingers creep up his back.
    This was his fault. He had the dream, and it was just a dream, but now his grandfather believed it, was using it to explain the bad things that were happening in the world.
    “Nidhogg has almost bitten through the roots of the world tree. One of the first signs of Ragnarök.”
    Matt gripped the sides of his chair to keep from flying up there and saying Granddad was wrong. He’d misunderstood.He’d trusted some stupid dream that was only a dream; Matt was only a kid, not a prophet, not a Seer.
    “And we understand, too, the meaning of the tsunamis and tidal waves that have devastated coastal cities around the world. Not only has Nidhogg almost gnawed through the world tree, but the Midgard Serpent has broken free from its bonds. The seas roil as the serpent rises to the surface. To the final battle. To Ragnarök.”
    Matt sucked in air, but it didn’t seem to do any good. He started to gasp. Mom reached over and squeezed his hand. On his other side, Dad eased his chair closer, his arm going around Matt’s shoulders as he whispered, “It’s okay, bud.” Josh leaned around Dad and gave a wry smile.
    On Mom’s other side, Jake snorted and rolled his eyes. Scorn for the baby who was freaking out because bad things were coming and he couldn’t handle it, which was how it would look to everyone else.
    Matt disentangled his hand from his mother’s and shrugged off his father’s arm. Then he pulled himself up straight, gaze fixed on his grandfather, who was saying something about nations in Europe breaking their promises on an environmental treaty and rumblings of conflict. All signs of Ragnarök. Oaths broken. Brother turning against brother. War coming.
    “In that final battle, we have a role.” Granddad looked over at the mosaic, and everyone’s gaze followed to the epicconfrontation against the Midgard Serpent. “For centuries, the Thorsens have worked together, stayed together, fought together. But this battle is different. This job is for one and only one. The Champion of Thor, who must win the battle, defeat the serpent, and save the world from destruction.”
    Dad’s hand went to Matt’s leg and squeezed. When Matt looked over, his father’s face was tight and unreadable as he stared straight ahead.
    “We have waited for the signs that point us to our champion,” Granddad said. “We had seen some, but we were still unsure. Now, though, the prophecy has been fulfilled and the runes…”
    He moved back, and the Seer shuffled forward. She didn’t step up to the microphone, so her reedy voice barely carried past the front rows. Matt had to strain to listen.
    “The runes have spoken,” she said. “I have cast them again and again, and the answer remains the same. We have chosen correctly. We have our champion.”
    Matt glanced at his father. Tentatively, his father slid his hand around Matt’s and held it so tightly that Matt had to fight not to pull away.
    On the stage, the Seer’s voice rose, so all could hear. “Our champion is Matthew Thorsen, son of Paul and Patricia Thorsen.”
    Matt froze.



There was a moment of stunned silence. Then whispers slid past.
Did he really say the Thorsen boy? He’s