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Authors: Francesca Simon

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BOOK: The Monstrous Child
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IGHTS PASS
. W
EEKS.
Years. Centuries. I’ve no idea. Time has no measure here. I just want to lie and decay, and the world won’t leave me alone. What’s that Viking saying? You wait forever for a chariot, and then three turn up at once.

I am inert on Sickbed. (Where else would I be?) My face to the wall. My thoughts black as tar. Listening to the
drip drip drip
of snake venom dribbling down the walls.

I hear the bed curtains part. They’re brittle now; they rip and crumble. I don’t move. Not sure I can move any more, even if I wanted to.

‘Hel?’

It’s Modgud. It has been aeons since I’ve seen her, aeons since I’ve heard another voice. Strange, I’d forgotten all about her.

‘What’s happened?’ she whispers. ‘Why are you just – lying here? Why are there snakes everywhere?’

I’m not sure I even remember how to speak.

‘Leave me alone,’ I say. My voice is hoarse. My mouth tastes of sand.

‘You don’t have to be like this,’ says Modgud.

‘Go away.’

‘We could throw stones into Gjoll again,’ says Modgud. ‘I’ve learned how to make them skip – I can show you.’

I don’t reply.

She tries again.

‘You should see the grave-wagon of stuff that just
came over the bridge.
Very
generous kin.’

Does the stupid giant really think a few trinkets can cheer me?

‘You left the bridge,’ I say. ‘It’s forbidden.’

Modgud takes a step back. ‘A god is coming,’ she says. ‘I came to warn you.’

I open my heavy eyelids.

What is this, Asgard by the swamp?

‘Why didn’t you stop him?’ I hiss. ‘You’re supposed to guard the bridge, not offer guided tours. You stupid troll.’

Why can’t everyone just leave me alone? I don’t care about anything. I want to die.

‘Hel,’ she begins. ‘Please –’

‘Get back to the bridge,’ I say.

Modgud’s face bleaches whiter. She turns and leaves.

And then my father swaggers in.

OKI SWAGGERS IN
as though we'd just said farewell a few nights ago.

He looks the same. Handsome. Jaunty. Treacherous with his viper eyes of red and green.

‘Hello, daughter. Aren't you looking well,' he says, leering at me through my slimy curtains. His eyes glitter. Then he pushes through the drapes, stands over me and twists his face into a smile.

I don't even bother to raise my head. I never thought I would see him again.

‘Leave me alone,' I say. I close my eyes.

‘Is that any way to greet your dad?' he said. ‘Your loving dad?'

I'll have to handle this myself.

‘Are you dead? Your days and deeds finished? Please say yes.'

Dad grins his wolf smile. ‘Not yet.'

‘Then why are you here?'

‘Can't a father visit his daughter without having a motive?' he says. ‘I've missed you.'

‘You seem to have managed fine without me,' I reply.

‘That's more than I can say for you, daughter,' he says. ‘Look at the state of this place. You're a queen … I wouldn't kennel a dog here.' He wrinkles his nose.

What do I care what he thinks of my décor?

‘Go to the trolls,' I say.

‘And after I've travelled all this way …' he says. ‘You
surprise me, Hel. Especially when I come bearing gifts.'

Gifts?

Despite myself I slowly open my eyes. I have a weakness for gifts. Maybe I believe if I gather enough goods I will feel less empty.

‘Trust me, you'll like it,' he says, holding out an intricately carved wooden
eski
. He flips open the lid.

Inside the box is a single brown nut.

I stare at him. He is mocking me. Why? Loki usually picks more challenging victims to tease.

‘Well?' Dad keeps his voice level, but I can feel his excitement. He wants something from me. I am sure of it. My father has come to ask a favour.

As if I'd grant him anything.

‘You've come to the world of the dead to bring me a nut,' I say. ‘What kind of stupid trick is this?'

Dad snorts. ‘You're not the only one who hates the gods, Hel,' he says. ‘This is the goddess Idunn.'

‘Who?' I ask. There are so many gods it is hard to keep track. Not that I want to, anyway. I am unlikely
to be invited to join the children's table at any Asgard family gatherings any time soon.

‘Hel, you're a stinking sow,' says Loki. ‘Idunn!'

I don't know why he thought shouting her name would make any difference.

‘Idunn, the Goddess of Youth, the keeper of the gods' immortality. Her golden apples keep the gods young. Without her …' He drew his finger across his neck. ‘The gods are dying. Every last one of them. Odin included.' He beams. ‘Then flickering flames will devour their halls, and even their names will vanish from the world.'

I never move in haste. In fact, I rarely even twitch. But at this I jolt upright.

In all my thoughts of vengeance, nothing so immense, so earth-shattering, had ever occurred to me.

My banishment would end. My enemies would be defeated. Not just defeated, but wiped from the worlds. I would be avenged! A fierce joy galvanises me. The first glimmer of joy I've felt since Baldr – I brush aside the sliver of ice his name always shoots through me.
Keeping Baldr here was a small revenge. Killing all the gods – this was a vengeance undreamt of.

I sit there silently, my face blank as an empty mead horn.

What, you think I jumped up and covered Loki with kisses and thanked him for devising the most perfect retribution on the evildoers who flung me here? Have you learned nothing? Loki can
never
be trusted. He is called Loki the Trickster for good reason.

He reads my mind.

‘I'm a very good liar, but everything I'm telling you now is true,' he says.

My fingers tighten around my blanket and twist through the holes. The only sound is the snakes hissing in the roof, and the rustling of the raven food in the poisonous hall beyond my curtains.

‘Well? Isn't this the revenge you've been longing for?' he asks.

‘Prove it,' I say.

Dad grins his wolfish grin.

‘Oh ye of little faith,' he says. He holds the nut between
his slender ivory hands and murmurs runes over it.

I brace myself. Has he brought Fen here? Or one of his hag daughters? Which monster will appear?

A trembling goddess stands before me, beautiful, glowing, clutching a basket of golden apples. The apples of immortality. She gags at her first breath of the fetid air.

‘Let me go,' she whispers. ‘I belong in Asgard. I need to get back to –'

Dad speaks the runes again and instantly she shrivels back into a nut.

Slowly, I lean forward.

‘How did you kidnap … No, I don't want to know,' I say. ‘What's in it for you?'

His face twists for a moment.

But his answer surprises me.

‘I've been a bad boy … Let's just say the gods want to tie me to a rock and drip snake poison on my face till the End of Days and, frankly, I'd rather not have that fate. I just want to hide out here until the happy day of doom,'
he says. ‘It won't be long.'

Why am I always the last to hear good news?

‘What have you done?'

He waves his hands. ‘Oh, you know, bit of this, bit of that, bit of name calling at a feast – a few curses … Possibly a few secrets yelled out –'

No mention of Baldr. He hopes I don't know.

‘Give me the
eski
,' I say. ‘I'll hide it. No one will touch it.'

‘I don't think that's wise,' says my father. ‘I should keep –'

‘I don't give a troll's fart what you think,' I say. ‘I'm queen. This is my kingdom. If I let you stay, you'll obey me.'

Loki smiles and bows his head. Then he hands me the
eski
.

‘Of course, Hel, whatever you say. You're the boss.'

Too right I am. I grip the precious box. It contains every drop of vengeance, all my blighted hopes, all my ruined dreams. Fierce happiness hurtles through my shattered body. Repay laughter with laughter. Gifts with
gifts. And betrayal with treachery. The gods would pay dearly for what they'd done to me. Although luck has never been with me, tonight, luck swaddles me in her slippery arms.

‘Find yourself a cave,' I tell him. ‘I don't want you near me.'

So long as he keeps away, I don't care where he hides.

Loki smirks as if I have just offered him a chest of gleaming gold.

‘Daughter,' he says. ‘You honour me with your hospitality.'

Should I mention my mother? Give him her address? First grave mound on the left?

Nah.

I put the
eski
under my bed, lie back on my damp pillow and close my eyes.

All I have to do is wait. Wait in Hel for the mortal gods to fade away and die. I am happy to wait. Like the dead, my patience is boundless.

I could have waited forever.

And then …

And then Freya came.

And that changed everything.

BOOK: The Monstrous Child
8.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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