Thor's Serpents (25 page)

Matt took a deep breath. He hefted Mjölnir. Then he carefully peeked over the—

A wave of flame engulfed the rock. Matt hit the ground. He lay there, on his stomach, pondering his options.

Options? What options? I’m pinned behind a rock by a hundred-foot-long fire-breathing dragon.

Well, no, that might be a slight exaggeration. The dragon wasn’t quite a hundred feet long. Maybe eighty. The pinned-behind-a-rock part, though? Matt lifted his head again, not even getting his eyes over the top before the serpent blasted him.

Yep, that part? Totally accurate.

Shield raised, Matt started lifting up again, seeing if he could just take a look, his head shielded, and throw Mjölnir—

The next blast of fire hit the shield with enough force to knock him flat on his back.

Okay, new plan.

As Matt rose, the ground shook. For a second, he thought it was him, quaking in fear. But despite the rather dire predicament, he wasn’t the one trembling. Meaning the serpent—

Matt scrambled between two rocks just in time as the serpent lumbered around his original hiding spot. It stopped,
eyes narrowing as it looked at the now-empty place. As he stared at it, he swore he heard Reyna’s voice in his ear.

Um, Matt? You’ve faced fiery monsters before.

Right, but…

Then his coach, when Matt panicked once on heading into the ring against a guy who looked twice his size.

That only means you can’t expect to knock him flying on the first blow, Matt. Focus on what you
can
do.

Ignore the size of the dragon. Focus on the current problem. The fire-breathing part.

Matt closed his eyes and imagined a blizzard—snow and sleet and gale-force winds buffeting the hapless dragon. He concentrated as hard as he could and after a minute, a snowflake landed on his nose. Grinning, he opened his eyes to see…

Big, fluffy snowflakes, gently falling from the sky.

Not quite what I ordered.

Still, buoyed by the quick—if not entirely overwhelming—response, he squeezed his eyes shut and pictured the worst storm he could remember. Three years ago. They’d been at school when it whipped up, dumping so much snow that the kids had to spend the night there.

Fluffy snow continued drifting lazily down.

No problem, just keep—

Thunder cracked. Wind whipped past, grabbing his shield and lifting him onto his tiptoes. He yanked the shield
down and ducked his head against the incredible gust blowing past.

Well, you asked for gale-force winds.

True, but he really needed snow with it, and even those useless big flakes seemed to have stopped. Wait. No.… He could see them. Falling somewhere else. Just not on him.

Matt looked up to see the dragon. Right over his head. Flying. Blocking the light snowfall. Its beating wings causing those gusts as its jaws opened to—

He dove just as the Midgard Serpent loosed another volley of flame.

It’s not supposed to fly in the ring.

No, it just can’t fly very high. Actual flight? Not a regulatory violation.

The dragon shot another fiery wave, one that ignited the dry grass around the rocks. Matt ran onto the open ground, racing as fast as he could, struggling to think, just think, think, think—

“Matt!”

Was that someone calling his name? He wasn’t slowing down to find out.

“Matthew!” Then, “Matty!”

Matt’s gut went cold. He knew that voice. But it couldn’t be. No one was allowed here except him and the dragon.

No rules, Matt. No refs. Not now. Anything goes.

The dragon swooped, jaws opening, teeth glittering. Matt hit the ground and rolled.

“Matty! Over here!”

As he came out of his tumble, he glanced over. His grandfather stood on one of the rocks, waving madly. Matt took one look, leaped to his feet—and ran the other way.

Granddad? Here? In the fight?

Did he actually think Matt stood a chance against the real Midgard Serpent? That the outcome was not guaranteed and the dragon needed
help
beating the puny mortal kid?

“Matt! Over here! I’m trying to help you!”

Matt turned to stare at his grandfather.

“I’m sorry!” Granddad yelled. “I made a mistake, but I’m here for you now.”

Of everything Matt had been through, nothing was worse than hearing those words. With his mind spinning, his confidence shattered, unable to even think of a strategy against the monster circling above him, he’d still had hope. Crazy and completely groundless hope, but hope nonetheless.
I can do this. Somehow, I can do this.
Then he heard those words and something inside him cracked, and it took everything he had not to drop to the ground, put his head down, and cry.

You did this to me. And it’s not enough to want me dead. You have to help me die, by preying on the one flicker inside me that
still hopes, the little kid that loved his granddad and can’t believe you’ve sent him off to die.

Matt did not drop to the ground. He did not cry. He did not stop running. But he did answer. An answer that his grandfather would never have imagined coming from his lips. An unrepeatable answer. But the only one, in that moment, that Matt could give.

Matt raced into another outcropping of rock. He got into it just as a tongue of fire slid around the rock and scorched his leg. His jeans ignited. He started dropping to put out the flames, but the serpent hit him with another blast and he barely got his shield up in time. It turned to ice again, protecting him, but Matt had already been dropping to the ground, and now his knee gave out and he went down and—

A hand grabbed him. He swung Mjölnir up, but his trajectory was wrong and by the time he lashed out, his grandfather had him by the shirt, Matt unable to reach him as he was dragged across the ground.

Matt twisted and fought, and then he remembered his other Hammer. His hand shot out to launch it, but his grandfather had already dropped him into a gap between rocks. Matt hit the ground and scrambled up, only to knock his head on more rock.

A cave of sorts. That’s where he was. A weird cave-like rock formation. Matt started lunging to get out, then stopped.

He was safe. Shielded above and on three sides by rock. The fourth side was open, but a scattering of nearby large stones meant the dragon couldn’t get to him. The beast was, perhaps ironically, too big.

I’m safe.

No, you’re trapped.

True. He was wedged in, the only exit leading to the dragon, but while his grandfather had doubtless meant to trap him, he’d inadvertently given Matt a place to catch his breath and think.

The ground thumped as the dragon landed.

“You aren’t supposed to be here!” Granddad boomed to the monster. “This isn’t your fight.”

The dragon hissed and beat its wings, drumming the air.

“There is another chosen,” Granddad said. “She waits outside the ring. The proper champion. A serpent of your lineage. You are to retreat and allow her to take your place.”

A snarl. Then a cry of pain from his grandfather and Matt lunged forward before catching himself.

It’s a trick. Even if it isn’t, he’s only trying to play by the rules and let one of Astrid’s family take her place.

“Begone, serpent!” his grandfather shouted. “Or if you take your champion’s place, I will take mine. The Norns have allowed me on the field because you broke the rules. Unless you retreat, I am permitted to stay.”

Matt shot from his hiding spot, yelling, “No!” He
clambered onto the rocks to see his grandfather at the dragon’s feet.

“It’s all right, Matt,” Granddad yelled back. “I can do this. Give me Mjölnir, and I’ll fight the serpent for you.”

Matt almost laughed at that. “Give you Mjölnir?”

“I was allowed in on the condition I’m unarmed except for my amulet. But I can wield Thor’s hammer. Give it to me, and I can do this for you.”

“You honestly think I’d believe that? You aren’t going to use Mjölnir to fight the dragon. You’re going to take it from me so I’m guaranteed to lose. You think I have a chance of surviving, of winning.”

“Yes, I do. You’ve proved I was wrong, that this doesn’t need to end the way the myth says. You brought Balder back from the dead. You won Astrid to your side. The outcome of the fight can change. I see that now, and I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Matt raised his shield. “I am Thor’s champion, serpent. I’m the one you’ll fight. The
only
one you’ll fight.”

“Matt, no!”

The dragon jetted into the sky, as high as it could without hitting the barrier. Then it swooped at Matt. He threw Mjölnir and dove back into the rock shelter. A roar of pain as Mjölnir hit. The hammer sailed back into his hand.

Matt’s hiding place went dark as the dragon hovered
over it. Fire engulfed the rocks. Matt pressed back as much as he could with his shield blocking his face. Sweat poured off him.

Then the beast let out another cry of rage and pain.

“Yes!” his grandfather shouted. “Over here! If you break the rules, then we both break them. You have two of Thor’s descendants to fight today, serpent. Come and—”

A howl from his grandfather. Matt ran out to see him on the ground. He had no shield. No hammer. Only his Thor’s power, and it wasn’t enough. Matt saw him lying there, knocked down by the dragon, and he didn’t care if his grandfather was on his side or not. This was still his grandfather.

Matt hurled Mjölnir. It bounced off the serpent’s flank, and if the creature felt it, it gave no sign, just hovered there, gaze fixed on its target. Fixed on Granddad.

The dragon opened its jaws. Matt shouted a warning. The beast let loose a wave of fire, but his grandfather managed to roll out of its path and scramble behind cover.

Matt climbed onto the tallest rock. He looked up into the sky and called on the power of Thor. The true power. Not ice and snow and wind, but rain and thunder and lightning. The power of the storm god. He threw everything he had into calling on that power, into believing he had that power. And the skies opened and rain poured down in torrents.

The dragon dropped to the earth as if shoved down by a giant invisible hand. It let out a roar. Then it stomped toward Matt. He pitched Mjölnir, hitting the dragon on the snout, and it let out another roar. Then it drew breath, its chest inflating, and Matt heard his grandfather shout for him, his words drowned out by the torrential rain.

The dragon’s jaws stretched as wide as they could. Fire kindled in its throat, filled its mouth, shot out, and… disappeared.

The dragon stood there, as if confused, a bubble of fire roiling from its mouth, going no farther. Matt swung Mjölnir. The hammer launched and the beast sprang. It leaped with the grace of a cat, and the hammer flew harmlessly past it. Matt jumped off the rock into his hiding hole.

The hole went dark. Wind buffeted the rain as the dragon hovered above the rock. Then its giant claws reached down, as if to land. Those claws, each as long as Matt’s forearm, wrapped around the top rock as he wriggled back farther, out of their reach. But they didn’t swipe for him. They grasped the rock and they wrenched, and the stone disappeared above him.

Matt ran out from his ruined hiding place. He looked up to see the dragon hovering there, the massive rock clutched in its claws. It flew directly over him and those claws began to open.

“Matt!” Granddad shouted.

Matt didn’t move. He readied Mjölnir. The beast dropped the stone. His grandfather screamed, a terrible raw scream.

But Matt was already launching Mjölnir and his amulet’s power, one right after the other. Mjölnir hit the rock and exploded it into a hundred shards. The Hammer power struck those shards and hurled them into the dragon’s belly. And Matt got out of the way before gravity took over and brought that rain of stones down on his head.

As the dragon screeched in pain, Matt ran for his granddad, knocking him out of the way, the rock shower falling harmlessly behind them. Then Matt spun back to the dragon, and saw tears in its abdomen where some of the sharper rocks had embedded themselves. Its wings flapped, lashing the rain into hail-like bullets. Matt didn’t stop the storm, though. However much the rain hurt Matt, it hurt the beast just as much… and extinguished its flames.

Matt threw Mjölnir again. This time, he aimed for the dragon’s eye, and the beast was too enraged to see it coming. The hammer hit. The dragon bellowed, the sound crashing like waves, Matt’s hands flying to his ears, nearly missing Mjölnir as it sailed back. He caught it and threw it again at the same eye, but the dragon saw it and flew off awkwardly, struggling to keep itself up against the downpour, veering to one side as if half-blind.

Hands grabbed Matt. He wheeled to see his grandfather.

“We can—” Granddad began.

“No,” Matt said. “There is no
we
.”

His grandfather’s face crumpled at that, but there was no shock in his eyes, just grief and understanding.

“If you’re serious about fighting the serpent, then do it,” Matt said. “I’ll do the same. Just not together. I don’t trust you. Don’t expect me to.”

“I was wrong. I—”

“No.” Matt stepped back, shaking his head. “If you’re going to fight, then fight. Anything else is a distraction. And probably a lie.”

“I—” His grandfather’s eyes widened. “Matt!”

Matt heard the dragon first. Heard the loud beating of its wings. He was ready, though. Nothing his grandfather said would distract him, and he’d been listening for that sound. He wheeled and threw Mjölnir. It smashed into the side of the dragon’s skull with a crack like thunder. The dragon screamed and rose, wings flapping fast and hard. Then it dove.

Matt dove, too. He faked the dragon out, starting one way, then twisting and diving the other, rolling behind a rock.

He heard a scream. Not from the dragon. From his grandfather. Matt jumped to his feet and turned to see his grandfather caught in the beast’s giant claws. Matt ran from behind the rock.

“No!” he shouted so loud his throat hurt. “He’s not the champion. I am! I’m the one you—”