Mannaz E-Book

Malene Sølvsten

• Herausgeber: Arctis US
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: Whisper of the Ravens
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 895

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Anne's near-death experience triggers the dreaded Fimbul Winter, heralding the arrival of Ragnarok. Now, as eternal winter grips the Nordic region, Anne and her allies are thrust into a desperate battle to thwart the end of the world. But treachery lurks within their ranks—one of her closest has betrayed her, yet she remains in the dark about their identity. As some begin to ponder if Ragnarok might be the lesser of evils, Anne faces a crucial choice: to seek aid from a place she vowed never to revisit, and from those she has wronged deeply. Will they come to her aid? Time is running out, and Anne is prepared to make unimaginable sacrifices to prevent catastrophe. Can she stop the apocalypse in time?

Leseprobe

Malene Sølvsten

Whisper of the Raven – Mannaz

Translated from the Danish by Adrienne Alair

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

TRANSLATOR’SNOTE: The passages from Old Norse poems are based on the translation of the Poetic Edda by Henry Adams Bellows, which is in the public domain. They have been changed in some places to align more closely with the Danish version of the text.

This translation has been published with the financial support of The Danish Arts Foundation

W1-Media, Inc.

Arctis Books USA

Stamford, CT, USA

Copyright © 2025 by W1-Media Inc. for this edition

Copyright © Malene Sølvsten & Carlsen, Copenhagen 2018. Published by agreement with Gyldendal Group Agency

First hardcover English edition published by W1-Media Inc./Arctis Books USA2025

All rights reserved. The publisher prohibits the use of this work for text and data mining without express written consent. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

The Library of Congress Control Number: 2024953138

English translation copyright © Adrienne Alair, 2025

This work is protected by copyright, any use requires the authorisation of the publisher.

All rights reserved. The publisher prohibits the use of this work for text and data mining without express written consent. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

ISBN978-1-64690-625-3

www.arctis-books.com

To the men in my life.

My father, my husband, and my son.

You don’t always understand

what the women are up to, but your support

has never wavered by a millimeter.

Part IMagic Wisdom

Necklaces had she

and rings from Heerfather

Wise was her speech

and her magic wisdom

Widely she saw

over all the worlds

Völuspá

10th century

Prologue

Hejd stopped among the trees. “This is where I want to be buried.”

“Stop saying things like that.”

“I mean it. It’s a beautiful burial site, and I want it to be my final resting place.”

Od looked around. “We’re in the middle of a forest. I’ll have to cut down all the trees to build a burial mound here.”

“I don’t need a mound. I want to go in the earth.”

“In the earth?”

“I want to be down where the worms can eat me, so I become one with everything. Place me so that I’m facing east. A thousand years of sunrises await me.”

“That’s not funny, Hejd. I can make a place for you in Odinmont.”

“An eternity next to your mother? No, thanks.” Hejd turned around, but it wasn’t the forest she saw. It was the future. “People will be buried there.” She pointed in one direction. “And the church will be here.” She gestured in the other direction, both arms outstretched.

“The church?”

“Where people worship the new god. He’s on his way here, along with his son.”

“The forgiving god with the son who sacrifices himself for the people?” Od’s forehead creased. “No one up here will worship them.”

“Not yet. But it’s coming.” Hejd raised her brows. “The son reminds me of you. You both love humans.”

Od looked warmly at her. “I love some humans more than others.”

“Your fates are also simi—” Hejd stopped herself and closed her eyes. “This is a good place to rest.” She sighed and inhaled. “I can smell seaweed and fish. People sing so beautifully, and the view of the sea is fantastic.”

Od laughed hoarsely. “The sea is a day’s journey to the west.”

“The sea is voracious. It will eat its way into the coast.” In Hejd’s head, the seagulls were already screeching, and the salty wind caressed her face. She had turned a full circle around herself, eyes still squeezed shut. Without her noticing, Od had come close, so he could wrap his arms around her. She looked up at him. His dark hair shone in the way that always took her breath away, and it draped around his face in a soft curve. She brushed it away so she could get a good look at him. “Promise me you’ll bury me in the ground here when I die.” She leaned into his embrace.

“I promise, just as I promise to take your soul with me to the realms of the dead so we can be together forever.”

“No!” she protested sharply. “No,” she repeated, softer this time. “I’m not going to your wife’s nor your father’s home.”

“Freyja will be happy if I return. She has nothing against you coming along.”

Hejd raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I have something against it.”

“Valhalla has just been completed. We can live there. My father—”

“You have to stay in Midgard when I’m gone. There’s something you must do.”

“I’ve already been here over a hundred years. That should be sufficient.”

She didn’t respond.

“You’re always right,” he said, defeated. “How long do you see me staying here?”

She placed her hand on his cheek, and it was hard for her to conceal her sympathy. “You need to stay here a little longer.”

“But we’ll meet in the afterlife, right?”

She shook her head.

“But—”

“Odin came to me yesterday,” she interrupted and looked at her hand. Three gold bracelets dangled from her wrist. “I was sitting outside, alone, when suddenly the mighty god stood there. Ancient and gray, with his long beard and cloak. He looked at me with his one eye and commanded me to see the future.” She clenched her fists so hard it hurt. “Now I wish I hadn’t.”

“What did you see?” Od asked cautiously.

It was suddenly impossible to look into his blue-green eyes, so she turned her back. “I’ll tell you, and you’ll put it in writing. Someone will read my prophecy in a thousand years. It’s my message to the raven.”

“Hejd?” There was fear in that one word.

“Will you do that for me?” Her voice was thin.

Some time passed before he replied. “I’ll relay your prophecy. I will carry the Prophecy of the Seeress through time. But who is the raven? What will happen in a thousand years?”

Hejd began to speak.

Chapter 1

I coughed from the stench of burnt hair and flesh. Though there must have been a fire burning somewhere, it was freezing cold. Yellow lights cut through the fog in strobing flashes, and I saw dark silhouettes between the mist and the light. It resembled a brutal shadow theater. I tried to orient myself but couldn’t see much more than fog.

“What is this?” The question wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, nor did I get a response. I shielded my eyes with my hand. There were humans, as well as absurdly large humanoid creatures. In a jumble between them were wolves, snakes, and fingalks.

“Ragnarök is the fate of the gods.” It sounded like a song in the wind.

“Serén? Is that you?” I hadn’t been able to make contact with my sister in a long time, so even a nightmare was welcome if she were part of it. “Serén? Are you somewhere up there?” I shouted hopefully toward the heavens. The low cloud cover made it impossible to see the sky. The sun was a black disk behind the fog.

The mist lifted, and I looked out over the plain with horror. It flowed with blood, and there were piles of lifeless human bodies. So many that I couldn’t see the ground. Crows pecked at the cadavers, and their hoarse caws blended with blasts, screams, and chops. I recognized a corpse-swallower with its long rear legs without knees, its hindquarters sticking up behind it. It chewed vigorously on a disembodied arm, and I hastened to look away.

There were long-haired, wild humanoid creatures. Their nearly naked, bulging bodies were painted with spirals, and they wore gold rings around their necks and arms. Several had cut the heads off the fallen, raising their war booty with cries of victory.

Someone came running. The mere sight of him after all these months made my heart somersault.

“Rorik . . . I mean Sverre.”

He was fighting doggedly in a swarm of fingalks. His pale hair was slicked with blood, and he looked older and harsher. Maybe it was because of the war, or whatever this was, or maybe this horrible event was years in the future. Sverre pierced a fingalk with his spear. The fingalk looked like Finn, but Sverre would never hurt Finn—my own beloved fingalk had died long ago.

The creature fell to the ground, and Sverre pulled his spear from its body. The sight shocked me.

“Anna,” Sverre shouted. “I know you’re watching from the past. You have to stop this. Let me be consumed.”

I walked forward. “Consumed by what?”

Sverre turned toward me. His brown eyes searched. “You can change this. We can be happy together.”

“Can you see me?”

He ran forward, and I instinctively spread my arms to embrace him, but he continued right through me. The feeling I got when he passed through my body made me want to throw up. When I turned around, Sverre was gone.

The ground moved beneath me, and I fell to my knees. There was a loud crack followed by an unsettling rumble. An enormous wave of icy water swept over the battlefield, and I was swallowed in a tangle of bodies and weapons scattered afloat in the water. It closed over my head, and something sentient and scaly grabbed on to my ankles and wrists.

I screamed toward the surface, but only air bubbles escaped my mouth as the knot of serpents closed itself around my body and pulled me down into the deep.

I jerked my head back and forth and twisted my body, but the serpents held me down. Something alive and warm pressed hard against my mouth.

“Let me go,” I shouted, but my words were practically shoved back into my mouth.

Whatever was in front of my lips didn’t move except to tighten its grip, and I struggled to breathe. I pounded on it. An incapacitating pain shot through my arm at the same time the knotted serpent burst. Finally, I slipped free. I gulped down air, coughing, and kicked the knot of serpents away. Oddly enough, they made a loud tearing sound. Confused, I looked around, half expecting to see piles of bodies, smoke, and fighting around me, but all was still. I lay in my bed in Odinmont; it was freezing cold, and on the floor lay a ripped piece of multicolored fabric in a haphazard pile.

“Anna,” Luna shouted from the driveway. “We have to leave if we’re gonna make it.”

I rubbed my face and cried out when I found that my skin stung. There was something wet and red under my nails, and a bruise spread across my wrist. I had apparently hit myself in my sleep. I sat up.

“Aaaannaaaaa!”

“I’m coming.”

“Were you taking a nap in the middle of the day again?” I heard footsteps on the stairs outside my bedroom. Luna stuck her head in. Snowflakes sat on her brown corkscrew curls, and she was bundled up in a neon-yellow puffer coat. Her sock-clad feet stuck out beneath it. “Hey!” She gathered the ruined blanket from the floor. “That took over a week to sew.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’ll fix it.” She shrugged. “Why didn’t you light your giant crystal? It’s freezing in here.”

“I forgot to.” It reminded me so much of Sverre, I could barely stand to look at it.

Luna sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re bleeding.”

I put my socked feet down on the cold floor. My toes were already frozen solid before they hit the floorboards, and it didn’t get any better when I stood up. Then I bent over and looked into the mirror. There were four red lines from my cheek to my upper lip where I had scratched myself. A little red drop trickled from the corner of my mouth.

“I saw something.” I looked at her in the mirror. “There was a violent battle.”

Luna studied me. “Was it a dream or a vision?”

“I think it was a vision, but it must have been of the future because I saw Sverre, and he was older.”

“Did Serén send it?”

“I have no idea where or who it came from.”

“Are you still unable to get ahold of her?”

I licked my finger and dabbed the blood away. It stung, but it was a minor pain. “Yep. The line is dead.”

“I’m sure she’ll contact you soon,” Luna said optimistically and stood up. “Then she can explain what’s going on.”

“We’d better hurry so we won’t be late.” I didn’t want to talk about the problems I was having contacting my sister. Downstairs, I pulled on my mother’s now-quite-ragged coat. The dark embroideries on the black background had come undone, and loose threads stuck out here and there.

Luna put her thick boots on. “Are you ready? One, two, three . . .” She opened the door and raised her hand against the driving snow. The small ice crystals hit my face, and I pulled my hat down and my scarf up so that only my eyes were exposed. Together, we ran across the driveway to Ben and Rebecca’s orange VW bus. My dad and Luna’s parents already sat squeezed into the front, so Luna and I piled into the back. The motor whined in protest at being brought to life. Ben was bundled in a reindeer hide and black Cossack hat; Rebecca sat behind the wheel wrapped in wool shawls, revving the engine so the van wouldn’t stall; and my dad looked like a green sausage in his snowsuit. I pulled my coat tightly around myself. With that, two sweaters, a scarf, a fur hat, and wool gloves, I could almost keep warm.

Almost.

“Put this under the seat.” Arthur handed me a tote bag with something heavy inside. It made a sloshing noise when I set it on the floor.

“Put it a little more out of view.”

I obeyed him and shoved the bag all the way under the seat. “Amazing that you’ve gotten your hands on some gas,” I commented, trying to forget my nose, which felt like an icicle.

“Gas? The van runs on magic,” Ben said in a voice so deep, it almost became one with the roar of the engine. Rebecca got the van going, and it coughed down the dirt road from Odinmont to Kraghede Road. The snow was dumping down again, and it was nearly dark. The van skidded a couple of times, but Rebecca kept us on the road into town.

The town sign was partially covered by a snowdrift, so it said only Raven. Sted was illegible, but that was fine, as all the white made it nearly impossible to see where we were. We parked and jogged from the car over to Frank’s Bar and Diner. The glass door was covered in frost. It was a little warmer inside than out, but not a whole lot. Frank caught me in a bear hug.

“Good to see you,” he said into my ear.

I returned his embrace but pulled back slightly and studied him. He had a full beard, but most men did now. The biggest difference was that his typical pomade hairstyle was gone. His dark hair, with its streaks of gray, hung down over his ears. Someone called from the bar, and Frank hurried over. Mathias came up to us, and his hand landed on my shoulder. I felt the cool current through all my layers of clothing. His divine powers were growing stronger every day. His skin was as golden as ever, and his eyes shone brightly. Luna threw herself into his arms and kissed him. Mathias broke off the kiss but kept Luna’s hand in his.

“What is that?” He touched my face tentatively.

“I accidentally scratched myself.”

His sapphire-blue eyes glimmered.

“It’s nothing,” I said.

Frank’s was nearly full of Ravensted locals. The back area was elevated from the rest of the bar, and where there were usually café tables was an old TV. The box framing the slightly curved screen was made of silver-colored plastic. The speakers were built into the sides, but they were covered by a fine mesh fabric. Frank pointed a large remote control at it, and a test pattern appeared.

A deep silence descended over the packed bar as a man in a suit emerged on the screen. It took me a minute, but I recognized him from the first equinox ball at The Boatman two years ago. Back then, he’d had neither a full beard nor long hair, but the bow tie was the same. He looked like a mix between a caveman and a secret agent.

Outside, the wind howled, and its pull could be felt inside Frank’s. The flame of the candle on our table flickered weakly. The news anchor on-screen waited for the broadcast’s intro jingle to finish.

“Daytime temperatures in Scandinavia are still between five and minus thirteen degrees, followed by frost storms reaching down to minus forty-nine degrees. The ice cap has reached northern Sweden, and there is still no contact with the rest of the world south of the border.”

No one at Frank’s said anything.

“The news will once again cover the cold situation,” the anchor said. “We will give you an update and speak with leading experts.”

He paused.

“Today is August twelfth, and this is the evening news.”

Chapter 2

“Did you notice how the weather forecast came first in the broadcast?” Luna asked when we got back in the car. “Before, the weather was always the last thing they talked about.” She rested her head on Mathias’s shoulder and snuggled up to him. He tightened his grip around her, and I looked out the windshield instead of watching them. I missed both Varnar and Sverre at the same time. Maybe I just missed having someone close to me.

A gray darkness had descended over the snow-covered town, though it wasn’t quite five o’clock yet. The sky was covered in clouds, as it had been for the past six months.

“Danes have always been very interested in the weather,” Ben said. “That was one of the first things I noticed when I came here.”

“I think this is different,” I said hesitantly.

Rebecca pulled the VW bus out onto Grønnegade. The old camper van creaked and skidded on the ice. My stomach lurched in alarm, and Luna let out a little oh, but Rebecca course-corrected with a firm grip on the steering wheel.

“Everything is different now,” she mumbled as she fought to get the van on course.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Ben and Arthur exchange a glance.

“I’ve experienced similar things before,” Ben said.

Pensively, I fidgeted with the ring on my finger. Mathias and Luna had given it to me for my eighteenth birthday, and it was made of green crystals and witch-forged iron. The crystals were Mathias’s tears—gods and demigods didn’t cry salt water like the rest of us. I looked out into the darkness and struggled to make sense of our surroundings. I pressed my nose almost flat against the window.

“Hey, aren’t we going home?”

“We just have to do something first.” Rebecca panted as she pulled on the steering wheel to turn the van down the road to Ravensted Social Center. The entirety of the flat building was cloaked in darkness, aside from a single office where an electric light burned. I hadn’t seen much artificial light in the past six months. I spotted a car parked in front of the center. In its back window, a sticker bearing the Danish government’s logo told me that the DSMA was paying a visit. The Department of Supernatural and Magical Affairs.

“Are we having a get-together?” I asked Arthur.

“Niels came up from Copenhagen, along with a couple of his friends.” He reached behind the seat for the bag he had given me earlier in the evening. I fished it out and handed it to him. The thick canvas had the shape of a bottle. Arthur hopped out of the van and hurried up to the glass doors, which slid aside for him.

We walked into the empty social center that had been a constant fixture of my childhood. I had come here at least once a month with various foster parents to give reports to Greta. She was the only stable adult in my life for eighteen years. Since I came of age a year and a half ago, I hadn’t been here or seen her, and suddenly I missed my old social worker.

The sensors detected our movement through the dark halls, and the fluorescent lights came on one by one with crackling pling sounds. Right in front of an open door from which a beam of light hit the floor, we passed Greta’s office. The others went ahead to the illuminated room, but I couldn’t help but stop and look into Greta’s cubicle.

It was so dark I had to squint, but I managed to focus my vision. The computer was turned off, the desk chair had a sun-bleached stripe where it had been facing the window, and the blue mug was full of pens, just as it always had been. I looked at the bulletin board displaying postcards, children’s drawings, and a key chain made of knotted strings and beads. It had taken me several weeks to make that in art class at school number four when I was ten years old. My destructive side made it nearly impossible for me to make anything, but I worked determinedly so I could give it to Greta. I traced my fingertip across the uneven knots. For the first time, I noticed it hung right in the middle of the board. Then I tore myself away and followed the others into the somewhat larger, illuminated office.

I stopped in the doorway close to my dad and whispered to him: “A couple of Niels’s friends?”

“We’re going to speak with the prime minister and his wife,” Arthur murmured back. “Niels loaned us this office for the meeting.” Louder, he said: “Welcome to Ravensted. Good to see you. Jakob. Mardöll.” He shook hands with the head of state and the first lady. Behind them stood Niels Villadsen, director of the DSMA. Ben walked up to the woman, who, in addition to being a glamorous actress, was also a mind-reading witch. They said nothing, but I sensed they were having a silent conversation. Rebecca nodded somewhat pointedly at them. The prime minister said hello at the same time his wife focused on me.

I can’t wait to see what’s going on in your fascinating head, seer, said the first lady, who was apparently named Mardöll.

Get out of my thoughts!

Mardöll looked intently at me, and though I tried not to think about the lack of contact with my sister and my theories about the unusual winter, the mind is a rebel, not a servant. Mardöll widened her eyes.

What visions you have. Giants, fingalks, battles, and a tidal wave of biblical proportions.

La, la, la, laaaaaaa, I tried to sing mentally, but Mardöll cut straight through my attempts to keep her out.

Sverre is warning you from the future, and your völva powers are growing.

I gave up on trying to block her. I don’t even fully understand what it means to be a völva. Could you expl—

Mardöll examined her polished nails as if to indicate I was boring her.

The office quickly grew crowded. Everyone was talking over one another, and Niels gave out enthusiastic handshakes. Luna flung herself around his neck, nearly toppling him over, although they didn’t actually know each other.

“I brought a bottle of mead.” Arthur sang the word mead.

“I didn’t hear that.” Niels grinned. “The country is under rationing orders, and I’m in charge of the distribution of goods.”

“Aren’t you too busy keeping the supernatural world under control to get stuck with such a practical task?”

“Let’s just say we have access to different distribution channels than the other agencies. The DSMA has ways of circumventing the lack of fuel.” He patted Arthur on the shoulder. “But seriously. We can’t drink mead outside the ration.”

“There are nine of us, Niels. It would be an insult to Odin not to drink mead.” Arthur gestured around.

“In that case, it’s allowed.” Niels bowed his head.

Rebecca poured it into glasses she took from a sideboard, and soon everyone had a cup of golden, oily liquid. Arthur handed me a glass, which smelled wonderfully of sweet alcohol.

Rebecca raised her glass. “Óðin Ullr. To the glory of Odin.”

The others repeated the toast and drank ceremoniously, while I sipped without saying the Old Norse words.

“Come. You all should see this.” Niels had rolled out a map of Scandinavia across the large table. I suspected he had appropriated the mayor’s office, as it was spacious, with a large oval conference table surrounded by leather chairs.

We gathered around the map.

Niels cleared his throat. “The exceptional cold has now lasted six months. In continuation of the natural winter, we are approaching a whole year of frost.”

“Is there any word from the rest of the world?” Rebecca asked. “They didn’t say anything on the news today.”

“Or any other day,” Arthur added.

Niels shook his head. “We’ve sent out ships and drones. The drones lose signal once they’re half a mile out to sea.” He planted his finger in the North Sea off Denmark’s western coast on the map. Then he moved his hand to the south. “The flooding down here from the Wadden Sea toward the German border cuts us off from the rest of Europe, and to the east, we lose contact in the middle of Sweden. The location of the ice cap keeps us from reaching Eastern Europe or Russia.”

“What about the boats?”

Niels removed his wire-rimmed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve seen some of them come back.”

“Survivors?” Ben spoke unusually quietly.

Niels shook his head.

I shot my clairvoyance toward him and involuntarily lifted a hand to my mouth in shock. In Niels’s past, I saw ships drifting toward the coast. They were covered in ice, and their crews lay dead on the decks. It looked as though they had collapsed on the spot. A single sailor still stood frozen to the railing. I could make out her terrified expression behind the thick layer of ice surrounding her head. I blocked out the rest of the vision.

The prime minister placed his empty glass on the table. “The people are restless, but we have managed to keep society from collapsing.”

“How do you do that?” Luna set down her empty glass as well.

“We maintain as much infrastructure as we can. The roads are cleared to some extent, and food is distributed. The internet and the digital TV signal for the general public are gone, but fortunately, a couple of museums had saved a few old transmitting antennae.” The prime minister had dark circles beneath his eyes. We all did, after so many months without sunlight, but his were deeper. “If we didn’t have the windmills, we’d all be dead by now. They produce enough energy to heat buildings and keep the electric cars running, even if it means all other energy consumption must be cut down. Plus, the windmills are tall enough that we were able to place TV masts on top. This is where you come in. We need you to help maintain calm and order, so people don’t panic.”

“They don’t seem particularly panicked,” Mathias said.

Mardöll wiggled her eyebrows. “Hypnosis. People have no idea how close they are to annihilation. The populace is better off being spared the truth as much as possible.”

Rebecca crossed her arms.

Niels looked up. “You also deserve a thank-you, Benedict.”

“Our hypnosis fades over time.” Ben straightened. “If necessary, we can do it again. Especially if there are more cases of illness.”

“What illness?” Luna and I asked simultaneously. I wondered if we, too, had been hypnotized.

“It’s not serious,” Niels said. There was something dismissive in his voice that made me suspicious.

“Yet,” Mardöll added.

Niels flashed her a seriously? look, then inhaled. “There have been a handful of cases of an illness. An unknown type of influenza. The infection was contained and treated, so it never reached a critical level.”

“Well, it was pretty serious for the ones who died.” The prime minister scratched his forehead. It must be hard for the leader of a country to be powerless in a time of crisis.

“Death is a tragedy for the individual.” Niels looked sad for a moment, before making his face hard. “But people die from this kind of infection every year. The death figures aren’t much higher than those from last winter, and Od Dinesen was able to heal most of those infected using laekna.”

I wanted to point out that it was Elias who had both invented and produced the potion, but I held my tongue. Elias tended not to mind others taking the credit, as long as he still profited from it.

“What do the authorities think is causing the long winter?” Mathias stepped forward and was suddenly a little larger than before.

“Most likely a meteor strike or a massive volcanic eruption that’s swirled dust up into the atmosphere.”

Mathias and I exchanged a look but stayed quiet.

“Is it also cold in Hrafnheim? I mean, it’s pretty unlikely that a meteor would have struck both there and in Midgard.” Typical Luna to think logically despite the crazy scenario.

Niels’s gaze grew dark. “We have no contact with Hrafnheim. After Ragnara was killed,” his eyes flitted briefly to me, “things have been a bit chaotic. The cold could also be caused by an extreme rise in global warming.”

Luna rubbed her hands together. “Warming?”

“If it happens very quickly, large chunks of the ice caps break off and flow toward us. They cool everything down with alarming speed.”

Luna looked doubtful.

Niels pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Those are the explanations we’re hoping for.”

“How can you hope that a meteor hit the earth?”

“It would only take a couple of years for the dust to settle. If this is a new ice age, it could last up to a hundred thousand years. We only have enough food for three.”

An uncomfortable silence descended.

“But we’ve had plenty of food lately. We have meat with every meal.”

“We quickly realized there wasn’t enough feed for the livestock. They were slaughtered almost immediately. It’s a good thing we’re living in a giant deep freezer, so we can store the carcasses. In the past few months, we’ve had plenty of meat, but it’s also pretty much the only thing we have, and our stockpiles will run out soon.”

“Where are you storing the food?” Mathias asked.

Niels pointed to the map on the table. “There’s a food depot in each of these five regions. Luckily, we had maintained them in case of nuclear war. With a strict distribution policy, we can make it to next summer. It’ll be tough, but people are resilient.”

“Hey!” I shouted across the office, and everyone jumped.

“Isn’t there something pretty obvious you’re overlooking?”

The prime minister cleared his throat. “What might that be?”

I threw up my arms. “This is Fimbulwinter. That’s what’s happening, and after Fimbul comes Ragnarök. The end of the world.”

Rebecca dropped us off in front of Odinmont.

“Remember to give the signal when you’re home.” Arthur slammed the car door, and we ran through the torrent of snowflakes. Inside, Arthur lit a candle and pushed the bench in the living room aside. I didn’t have the energy to discuss his choice of bedroom again, so we just went into the kitchen, where we stared out the window in silence.

“Mathias is with them. He can get them inside quickly if a frost storm hits.”

“I know.” Arthur didn’t look away from Ben and Rebecca’s house until a light moved back and forth in their living room window. He exhaled and patted me on the shoulder. “Goodnight, Anna.” He walked into the living room and disappeared into the crypt beneath Odinmont.

I went upstairs. The soles of my feet froze with each step. Warmth hit me when I swung open the door to my bedroom.

“What did they say?”

I let out a little cry, startled. “What are you doing here, Elias?”

He lay on my double bed with his arms behind his head. On the windowsill, my giant crystal shone and sent waves of heat out into the room. Elias sat up and swung his legs over the edge. “I have a key to Odinmont, remember?”

“Yes, I know, but you promised not to use it unless I said so.”

“You asked me to take a look at your back. I thought that was a so?”

“Oh, right. How did you light my giant crystal?” I asked with a furrowed brow.

Elias smiled secretively. “It reacts to people you care about, so you must love me on some level or another. When I touched it, I remembered something fantastic.” He focused on my mouth. “Actually, I don’t need the crystal to warm myself up with that memory, but you do have to take your clothes off, so . . .”

“Elias!” I snapped, but I wasn’t really mad at him. I turned my back, and it took me a while to take off all my sweaters and shirts.

“Now I hope Arthur won’t come running up here and find you undressed in my company?”

“He went down to the crypt to sleep.”

“He sleeps inside Odinmont?”

“He still feels most comfortable in his grave.” I stopped, wearing only my bra.

Elias stood right behind me. “Take it off. I want to see what I’ve done.”

I took it off and tossed it on the bed. My skin hadn’t been exposed to air very often in recent months, so I sighed with pleasure when the heat hit my naked back. I didn’t care about being undressed in front of Elias. He was over four hundred years old and had seen all there was to see of this kind of thing, including my own body on a couple of occasions. For a while, Elias said nothing. Only his breath on my skin let me know he was there. Then he traced his hand over the spot where, eight months ago, he had carved the ansuz rune into my back. I winced as his fingers brushed across my tender skin.

“If only I could take it back,” he whispered.

“It still hurts really bad. I’ve tried to grit my teeth and ignore it for a long time, but it just won’t stop. You’re the only doctor I know, so . . .”

“If you had let me look at it immediately, I could have gotten rid of the wound with laekna. Now you’ll have it forever.”

I ran a finger along the scar on my chest, then to my shoulder, where I had small brand marks in the shape of runes, and then to my eyebrow, which was intersected by a white line. My gaze fell to my forearm, where Gustaf had imprinted the fehu rune. It looked like a tattoo, but it was made using magic.

“I already look like a pirate,” I said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “One more scar doesn’t really matter.”

“You really have been marked by life. Both inside and out.” Leather creaked, and something clinked as he rummaged in the pouch he always carried around his neck. A wet gel hit my shoulder. Then a tingling sensation spread across my back and down my arms.

“Læknir?” I asked, recognizing the soothing sensation.

“Let me see you now.” He ran his hand over my back again. I didn’t feel any pain shoot through my muscles. Only a pleasant warmth and the slightly rough feeling of his palm. At the back of my neck, he touched the silver chain that hung there. I felt a slight pull, after which the pendant slid up to my throat. I placed my own hand on the little silver hand that Hakim had given me for my eighteenth birthday.

“It pains me that you lost Hakim.”

I turned around and looked at Elias, who was still holding the silver chain. “Does it really?”

“I know what it’s like to lose someone forever.”

“Did you kill him?” I concentrated on not blinking.

Some time passed before Elias replied. “No,” he said finally. “I did not kill Hakim.”

“Do you know who murdered him?”

Elias shook his head. His soft curls and full, dark-red lips made him resemble an angel. Sincerity itself.

“I’ll find out who it was.”

“How will you find out?”

“I can see ghosts, so I’ll get ahold of Hakim in some way or another and I’ll ask him.”

“Hakim belonged to a different faith. You can’t talk to him.”

“Rules are meant to be broken.” At least, that was how I saw it.

“Not this kind.”

“I have no intention of following rules I haven’t made myself.”

“It’s a law of nature, and we’re all subject to them.” Elias looked into my eyes, probably just to avoid looking down at my bare chest. He let go of my necklace. For a second, his face wasn’t calculated, just deeply sad. “Put your clothes back on, Anna. You tempt the wrong people.”

I pulled a shirt over my head.

“So, what did they say?”

I played dumb. “Who?”

Elias gave me a little smile. “I’m assuming Niels Villadsen explained away the cold with scientific phenomena?”

“I’m certain it’s Fimbulwinter.” The words hung between us. “But they don’t believe me. It’s a good thing it lasts three years, so there’s time to convince them.”

Elias didn’t comment.

“Do you agree?” I asked.

He sat down heavily on my double bed. “This isn’t the first time in history that it has looked like the end is near.”

“Looks like? Seriously, it’s below freezing in August.” I looked toward the black square of the window. Outside it was completely dark, and the wind whistled as ice spread across the glass.

Elias gave me an overbearing look. “Sometimes I’m reminded of how young you are.”

“Typical for a four-hundred-year-old to play the age card. It’s not normal for it to be cold in the summer here, even for an old geezer. It has to mean doomsday is near.”

“The only conclusive thing we can say about doomsday prophecies is that none of them have been true. The world has, thus far, not ended.”

I sat next to him. “But I’m worried for the future, however much is left of it.”

“Have you talked to your sister about it? The future is kind of her specialty.”

“I can’t get ahold of her,” I whispered. “Something’s wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“I have no idea what happened, but it’s like she’s just . . . gone.”

Elias’s face took on a professional expression. He moved his head back and forth so he could study me from multiple angles. “Describe what it feels like as precisely as you can.”

I shrugged. “I’m usually able to talk to her inside my head, but now it’s like there’s a roadblock. I don’t know if clairvoyance flows more slowly in the cold. But it doesn’t seem like that’s it because I see all kinds of other stuff.”

“Like what?”

“For example, I can see what you did last night.” With a little cough, I looked away but managed to catch Elias blushing.

A few moments passed before he spoke. “You might be overwrought,” he said finally.

“Overwrought?”

“Stressed. It may be true that stress isn’t life-threatening, but it can be debilitating for people with supernatural abilities, and you must be affected by everything that’s happened to you.”

“What do you think happened to me?”

“You didn’t stop even though you exceeded your limits. You died . . .” His voice broke. “You died just over six months ago. That’s very upsetting for the mind.”

“How do I make my stress go away?”

“You have to find inner peace.”

“How in the hell do I find inner peace?”

Elias shrugged.

“How do you?”

He rubbed his forearm through his shirt, and I once again caught a glimpse of the previous night’s debauchery. “You shouldn’t follow my example. But you can let me treat you. It’s not just physical wounds I’m an expert at healing. I’m the best doctor in the country.”

“Apparently, you’re also the cockiest.”

“I’m your best offer. Let me know if you want my therapy, and we’ll agree on a good price.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you want me to pay.”

“Nothing in life is free. I’m just honest about my fee. That reminds me . . .” He held out a flat hand.

“Do you really think you’re getting paid for fixing my back? You were the one who caused the injury.”

A muscle in Elias’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing. With a sigh, I walked to my closet and found a little ampoule I had left over from the klinte Elias had provided me with earlier. Now the vessel was filled with a red liquid. I placed it in Elias’s hand, and he held it between his thumb and index finger. The giant crystal shone through it and projected a warm glow across his face. “Mathias’s blood?”

“It’s what’s left from that time he got shot.”

Elias turned it between his fingers. The red blood surged as though there were still life in it, which I suppose there was. It clearly hadn’t dried up or turned brown.

“You’d better go before my dad finds you.”

Elias tucked the ampoule away. “Arthur went to bed. There’s plenty of time.” He bit his plush bottom lip.

“Elias!”

“Do you really want to send me away? What if a frost storm hits? They’re getting worse and worse.”

I pointed to the door. “Maybe there’s someone else who can warm you up.”

“There’s only one person I want to warm me.” He stepped close to me.

“Elias, drop it.” I inched backward.

He followed. “I want the best for you. I want the best for both of us. We go well together, and if I only have three years left of my long life, there’s no one I would rather spend that time with.”

“It’s so typical of you to try to use the end of the world to your advantage.”

He took my hand and tentatively stroked his fingertips across my wrist. It tickled pleasantly. My heart pounded as Elias came even closer and brought his mouth to my neck. His spicy scent hit my nose, and I stood completely still.

“I’ve been alone for more than three hundred years,” he whispered.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Elias. I can see your past. You can’t lie to me.”

“It’s possible to be alone with other people.” Elias’s mouth formed a small line. “Let me know if you need my assistance with your stress. I’ll give you the friend rate.” He said friend with bitter sarcasm. When he left, he closed the door behind him a bit harder than necessary. The giant crystal went dark immediately, and I was left alone in the stuffy, pitch-black room.

I fumbled my way over to the crystal in the windowsill. It was still warm but without even a trace of the light it had been emitting. I shook it, but it didn’t wake up.

Oh, whatever. It was so nice to have the stinging pain in my back finally gone that I threw myself onto the bed immediately. Maybe, for once, I would get a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

But this wouldn’t be the night, as I landed among piles of corpses, cackling crows, and flapping fingalks. It stank of sulfur, and the air was damp and cold. I coughed in the chaos and tried to focus.

A male figure stepped forward. He had steel-gray hair down to his shoulders, and he was naked apart from a simple loincloth. The bare skin on his body, which appeared to be carved from granite, was painted with symbols, like the other creatures of chaos, but he was significantly larger than them. He wore a necklace, but it wasn’t made of precious stones. Severed human heads were strung along the cord like beads—he was so large, there were at least ten of them. In his hand, he held a burning sword aloft, and three terrifying beings followed him.

Hel, the goddess of death, touched the people she passed without looking at them. They collapsed, their skin pale and their eyes blank. On one side, Hel’s skin was golden, the eye dark and deep-set with a strong brow. Her other side was rotten and crawling with maggots. Its milky-white eye bulged out. The Midgard Serpent kept its enormous head lowered, and it swallowed bodies from the ground. It was the source of the strong stench of sulfur. The wolf was as big as a cargo truck. Its fur was thick, and it looked like a supersized version of Monster. Fenrir, I thought, and I looked back at the man with the steel-gray hair. That must be Loki.

Someone walked toward Loki and the monsters. A tall, erect figure, who looked small in comparison. Loki said something, but the man shook his head. His dark hair swayed in shiny waves around his face. Loki spoke again, but the man knelt and bowed, so the shiny hair slid down and exposed the bare skin of his neck. Loki raised his flaming sword. It whooshed forward and cleanly separated the man’s head from his body.

I screamed as the head flew through the air, hit the ground, and rolled toward me. Just in front of my feet, it slowed and spun, stopping with the face pointing up. I peeked down at it, unable to look away. Od looked up at me. His beautiful eyes were distant, and his shapely lips slightly parted.

Then the ground moved, and the earth itself rumbled loudly, as though some gigantic creature were down there. A whipping wind hit me, full of hail and bits of ice. Because the ground was tilting, I slid down in a rain of bodies, stone, and blood. My stomach contracted as though I were in an elevator plummeting down. Frigid water closed over my head, and a serpent knot pulled me down into the ice-cold waves.

Then I was torn into a thousand pieces.

“Stop it,” a voice came through the darkness. “Stop it.”

Chapter 3

Mathias’s room wasn’t particularly large. It was hard to imagine a demigod living in this two-bedroom apartment in the middle of Ravensted. I picked up a damp towel off the floor. It smelled a little musty.

“You’re kind of a slob.”

Blushing, Mathias snatched it and tossed it in a plastic laundry basket. “If I had known you were coming, I would have cleaned up.” He straightened a couple of stacks of paper and kicked a pair of boxers under the bed. “We’re usually at one of your places or at Frank’s.”

Luna threw herself down on the bed. The pillowcase’s graphic print in cobalt and cherry red clashed with her orange dress, purple fingerless gloves, and turban the color of curry powder. “You can be as messy as you want. Just don’t expect us to do anything about it.”

I studied Mathias’s wall, where a couple of posters hung. One depicted a rainbow, and another was a large grass field.

Mathias saw me looking. “Those are just something my mom bought before the winter. I don’t give them much thought.”

With my clairvoyance, I saw Mathias on his knees in front of the pictures as he glowed a pale verdigris green. What was he doing? Was he worshipping the posters? Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t true that he didn’t think about them.

“What are you guys doing here?”

Luna set her batik fabric bag next to the pillow. “Sorry to just burst in like this, but Anna wants to talk to us about something.”

Mathias leaned over her, and she placed her hands on his chest with a giggle. “You didn’t have to come all the way here. You could have just shouted. My hearing is getting better by the day. Actually, you only have to whisper, and I’ll hear it.”

“I love you,” Luna mouthed, and Mathias responded by giving her a big kiss on the mouth.

With my eyes squeezed shut demonstratively, I sighed. “Are you two done?”

“Not even close,” Mathias said, and I heard another kissing sound.

“Ughh . . . Can you not? Nobody wants to see that.”

They begrudgingly pulled themselves apart.

“Okay, then. What’s going on?” Luna asked.

“Someone—possibly my sister—keeps sending me visions from the future.” My other suspicion about Serén made my stomach twist. I told them about the deaths and natural disasters in the vision. “I’m pretty sure it’s Ragnarök. The vision always ends with someone begging me to stop it, but how do you stop the end of the world?”

“Ragnarök? Are you sure you aren’t seeing something else?” Mathias rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand. I didn’t answer and instead looked to Luna in appeal.

She tilted her head slightly. “You want nothing less than to stop the world from ending. That’s so typically you.” I looked expectantly at her, and she scratched her forehead. “You can make offerings to the gods, and you can make it hard for the giants to invade.”

“The first one isn’t happening,” I said sharply, which earned me a sour look from Mathias. “How do we stop the giants?”

“You have to be smart because they use sneaky tricks to get in everywhere. They try to fool you into running their errands. You need to be on your guard. The other thing is, you have to be frugal. Giants will take everything you throw away and use it in the final battle.”

I looked at her, concerned. “Before the long winter, there was a lot of waste, so the giants must be swimming in old electronics and cheap clothes.”

“I only know the legends. They say the giants keep warm with the clothes we just throw away instead of mending, they make shoes from scraps of leather, and they nourish themselves with discarded food. Ulfberht forges weapons from all the scrap pieces of iron. It probably goes back to how, in the old days, people had to utilize all their resources.”

“Ulfberht.” I reflected. “Tilarids is an Ulfberht sword. You know, Sverre’s sword, the one he got from Eskild.”

“Ulfberht is the giant who equips the others with weapons. He forges them in the eternal flames of Muspelheim. During Ragnarök, the giants kill most of the gods with those weapons.”

Mathias blanched, and Luna wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s happening right now, babe.”

“So, if I don’t want to make an offering, and it’s too late to not throw things away, what else can I do?”

Luna considered this. “I’ve read that if Huginn and Muninn are united, they can change the course of time.”

I straightened. “Finally, something I can use.”

Luna leaned against Mathias. “I think you’re supposed to interpret it symbolically.”

“There’s nothing symbolic about two ravens meeting. That’s pretty concrete.”

Luna clicked her tongue. “Huginn is the future, and Muninn is the past. Together, they become the present. It’s sort of a carpe diem thing. You can change fate if you free yourself from habitual thinking and fear of the future. The Vikings were incredibly sensible.”

“It could also mean that, together, Serén and I can stop doomsday.”

Luna pulled the covers over herself. “Well, yeah.”

“But I still can’t get in touch with her in here.” I tapped my temple a few times. My stomach churned again. “There’s something wrong with me.”

Luna sat up fully, and the covers slid off. “Wrong?”

I coughed uncomfortably. “Do you think I seem . . . different . . . since I came home from Hrafnheim and Helheim?”

She studied me, a small crease between her brows. “You might be a little nicer.”

“I’m only nicer because I died?”

Luna leaned back on her elbow. “No, no . . . You’ve always been nice, but you just don’t chew people out as much anymore.”

“I don’t?”

“What do you think is wrong?” asked Mathias.

“I talked to Elias yesterday. He let himself into Odinmont while we were at Frank’s.”

“What?! He could have been a murderer. He is a murderer,” Mathias sputtered.

“Not a real murderer.”

“He killed Naut Kafnar and all those soldiers at Sverresborg.”

“Well, yes . . .”

“And you.”

I raised my index finger. “Only when I forced him to. And it doesn’t matter now. Elias thinks it’s stress, and apparently, that’s like poison for supernatural abilities.”

“It makes total sense that fate is giving you this particular challenge,” Luna said. “Everything else you can fight your way out of or run away from, but this requires you to actually listen to yourself.”

“Okay, but—”

“And you’re really bad at listening to yourself.”

“Hey!”

“You have to relax if you want to be reunited with your sister.” Luna wiggled happily in her half-recumbent position, which made her look like a colorful eel. “Sometimes I just love the universe.”

I inhaled tensely. “What do you think I should do?”

“My parents can help. They treat a lot of people. My dad hypnotizes them, and my mom does color therapy. She’s actually really good.”

“With all due respect, Luna, I don’t think I can find inner peace with your parents in the room. Have you heard of anyone else who can help with stress?”

“There’s Brenda from The Healing Tree. She specializes in treating stress. I’ll ask her if she has time.”

“Fine. I mean thanks. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I sat at Mathias’s desk and swung in half circles on the rolling chair. “You don’t seem particularly upset that Fimbulwinter is here.”

“If it’s here.”

“Oh, Luna . . .”

“My parents don’t think it’s Fimbul, and they know the mythology really well,” she said.

“Why won’t anyone just consider the possibility that this is Fimbulwinter?”

“My mom and dad say you really have to be careful about yelling Fimbul is coming. Historically, it’s bred hysteria and religious tyranny every time the population thinks the end is near. Niels knows both worlds, and he agrees.”

“If it is Fimbulwinter, we only have three years.”

Luna squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Habitual thinking,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“I’m so tired of reinterpretations of the mythology. Sometimes, when something gets repeated enough, everyone forgets that it’s not accurate. It’s a little like how Freyja is the goddess of love. Yes, she rules over fertility and sex, but she’s also a goddess of death and a witch, and she’s highly dangerous. And she’s not that much more beautiful than all the other gods.”

“She’s actually really tired of always being portrayed so romantically.” I had met the goddess, and there wasn’t much “peace, love, and harmony” about her. “So, does Fimbul not even exist?” I looked hopefully out Mathias’s window at the snowdrifts in front of his apartment complex. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but they were covered in blankets of snow. Gas was almost impossible to procure, so people got around on foot or by bike, if they could find a cleared road, or in the few electric cars in the area.

“The idea of a long winter leading up to Ragnarök is a later myth,” Luna said. “I think it got mixed with some old folktales. The sources only mention Fimbul once.”

“Then what are the signs that Ragnarök is coming?”

“It starts with the gods’ and demigods’ strength increasing. And there are natural disasters, famines, and disease all at once, but it doesn’t say anything about how long nature is in disarray. Friends will murder one another, and family members will fight. Oh, and there’s also whoredom in connection with Fimbulwinter, although I don’t know what qualified as whoredom in Norse society.”

“What sources are you talking about?”

“The prophecy. Your friend Hejd.”

I felt a strange kinship with the völva who had died a thousand years ago. Sometimes it felt as though she were speaking directly to me through a tunnel of time.

“Hejd predicted Ragnarök, but she didn’t see the Fimbulwinter. There’s a little about it in the Ballad of Vafthruthnir, but what exactly Fimbul is or how long it lasts, no one knows. Fimbul simply means hard or harsh in Old Norse.

Much have I fared

Much have I found

Much have I got of the gods

What shall live of mankind

when at last there comes

the mighty winter to men?

As Luna recited the poem, my ears rang, and the room spun around me. I gripped the edge of the desk and nearly fell off Mathias’s desk chair. Both my friends reached out to grab me, but I held out my hand to signal that it would pass.

“It’s a real prophecy, in any case,” I panted when I was once again able to speak. “And now it makes a lot more sense why no one thinks Ragnarök is coming, but I’m pretty sure that it is.”

“Wasn’t there something about how you or your sister would die by Ragnara’s hand before the world ends? I’m pretty sure you’re alive, and Ragnara is quite dead,” Mathias said.

I suddenly couldn’t feel my lips. Maybe there was another reason why I couldn’t get ahold of Serén. Maybe Ragnara had found a way to kill her from the grave.

“I dream about Ragnarök all the time,” I said, mostly to chase the thought of Serén out of my head.

“Do the gods die?”

“There aren’t any gods in my dream.”

“So it can’t be Ragnarök,” Luna said.

“Why not?”

“Ragnarök means fate of the gods. If there are no gods, it can hardly be their fate. Ragna means ruling powers, and rökr means fate or darkness.”

“Hmm. That sounds a little like Ragnara?”

“Her name just means that she’s a female ruler. My dad says she took the name Ragnara when she became queen. Before that, she was called Melkorka.”

It didn’t matter because Ragnara was dead and gone, and she had done nothing but try to kill me, but it gave me an uncomfortable jolt to hear her real name. It made her more like a regular person in my mind.

“But is it not true that Ragnarök is said to be coming when the Midgard Serpent lets go of its tail and Loki leaves the cave? Both have already happened. I think Fimbulwinter is here.”

“I really think we should be careful about calling this Fimbul,” Luna said.

“But something is different.” Mathias rubbed his eyes with a golden hand. Luna rolled onto her side and pressed herself against him. He stroked her shoulder absentmindedly, still not looking at us.

“What’s different?” Luna asked.

Mathias kept his eyes closed, maybe because he was struggling to admit it. “There’s something stirring.” He pointed at his broad chest. “Something inside me is changing. There’s a force that I have a hard time controlling.”

“But you’ve always struggled to control your powers,” I pointed out.

He swallowed. “I’m getting angrier and angrier at humans.”

I glanced at him. “What are you mad about?”

“You aren’t devout enough. It’s my right that you should worship me.” Mathias shifted uneasily.