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

just a kid. No, that can’t be right. We heard wrong. We must have.
    Granddad’s voice came back on the speakers. “I know this may come as a surprise to some of you. Matt is, after all, only thirteen. But in Viking times, he would have been on the brink of manhood. The runes have chosen Matt as our champion, as the closest embodiment of Thor. His living representative. And they have chosen others, too, all the living embodiments of their god ancestors, all children born at the turn of the millennium. Young men and women like Matt. The descendants of Frey and Freya, Balder, and the great god Odin. They will come, and they will fight alongside our champion. And…” He pointed at the mosaic of Thor’s death. “That will not happen, because they will win and they will live.”
    Another moment of silence, like they were processing it. Then someone clapped. Someone else joined in. Finally, a cheer went up. It didn’t matter if they thought Matt was too young—the runes called him the champion, so that’s what he was. However ridiculous it seemed.
    Matt looked around. People were turning and smiling, and his mother was pulling him into a hug, whispering how proud she was. Josh shot him a grin and a thumbs-up. Jake’s glower said Matt didn’t deserve the honor and he’d better not mess this up.
    So Ragnarök was coming? And he was the Champion of Thor? The chosen one? The superspecial kid?
    I’m dreaming. I must be.
    Once he figured that out, he recovered from the shock and hugged his mother and let his dad embrace him and returned Josh’s thumbs-up; then he smiled and nodded at all the congratulations. He might as well enjoy the fantasy. Too bad it wasn’t real, because if he did defeat the Midgard Serpent, he was pretty sure he could get a dirt bike out of the deal. He laughed to himself as he settled back into his seat. Yeah, if he fought and killed a monstrous snake, Mom really couldn’t argue that a dirt bike was too dangerous.
    He looked around as everyone continued congratulating him.
    It had to be a dream. Anything else was just… crazy. Sure, Matt believed in Ragnarök, sort of. He’d never thought much about it. That’s just how he was raised, like some kids were raised to believe an old guy named Noah put two of every animal on one boat. You didn’t think much about it—it just
was
. So Ragnarök must be real, even if it sounded…
    He looked around. No, everyone else believed it, so it must be true.
    Maybe it wasn’t an actual serpent. Maybe it was a… what did they call it? A metaphor. That’s it. Not an actual snake, but some snake-like guy who had to be killed or he’d unleash nuclear war or something.
    Except that wasn’t what Granddad was talking about. He meant the Midgard Serpent. Like in the picture. An actual serpent.
    That’s the story, Matt. Don’t you believe it? You’ve always believed it.
    His head began to throb, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
    Let Granddad handle it. Just do what you need to do.
    Do what? Be their champion? No. He’d make a mess of it. He always did.
    The
Thing
ended, and every Thorsen lined up to shake Matt’s hand. He
was
awake, and he was the chosen one—and he was going to fight the Midgard Serpent and save the world. First, though, he was going to throw up.
    Every time someone shook his hand, he felt his stomach quiver, too, and he thought,
I’m going to do it. I’m going to barf. Right on their shoes
. The only way he could stop it was to clamp his jaw shut and keep nodding and smiling his fake smile and hope that the next person who pounded him on the back didn’t knock dinner right out of him.
    After the others left, his grandfather talked to him. It wasn’t a long discussion, which was good, because Matt barely heard any of it. All he could think was
They’ve made a mistake. They’ve made a really, really big mistake
. He even tried to say that, but his grandfather just kept talking about how Matt shouldn’t worry, everything would be