Arthur and the Fenris Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

gobbling down a hunk of meat. His eyes were on the Trickster God too.
    The old music that was playing clicked to a stop and the needle lifted off the record. Taking that as his cue, Loki spread his arms as wide as he could, the rustling fabric of his heavy coat the only sound apart from the crackling of the fires.
    â€˜Honey,’ he exclaimed gleefully, ‘I’m home!’

    â€˜How was work?’ Arthur called when he heard Joe arrive in, dropping the car keys on the hallway table.
    â€˜It was all right,’ Joe answered, coming into the living-room to find his son with his feet up in front of the forty-six-inch TV. He collapsed into the adjacent armchair with a sigh. ‘Things are finally running smoothly. A lot better than when we got here first. You never know – we might be able to move back to Kerry sooner than we thought. Maybe by April.’
    â€˜What?!’ The plan had always been to stay in Dublin for less than a year, moving back to Kerry in August so Arthur could start secondary school with his old friends. He’d been hesitant to move to Dublin in the first place, but now he had settled in and made friends.
    â€˜Don’t you want to go home?’ queried Joe.
    â€˜Of course I do. It’s just … so soon? It’s kind of unexpected.’
    â€˜Well, it’s just a possibility. It’s nothing definite. Anyway, I thought you didn’t like Dublin?’
    â€˜I don’t. Well, I do. Never mind.’
    Joe took the hint and dropped the subject. They sat in silence, watching a quiz show on the television. Eventually, Joe spoke again.
    â€˜Get up to anything today?’
    â€˜Not much. Just went into town with Ash.’ As usual, he chose not to mention the Vikings.
    Following their short discussion about Loki’s return, Bjorn had grunted something and waved some of his soldiers over. Eirik and another warrior called Gunnar approached them, carrying a bow and arrow and a longsword. The iron blade of the sword was as long as one of Eirik’s lanky legs. The hilt was also iron but wrapped in a fragile, age-worn strap of leather that was stained a dark green, with runes and swirls hammered into the large, round pommel. Patches of crumbly rust clung here and there, but overall it was in great condition considering it had been hidden under the city for a thousand years. The tips of the arrows – also iron – hadn’t fared as well, but they still looked sharp enough to do an enemy serious damage. The shafts were long sticks of ash, and the feathers at the end (which Arthur had read once were called the fletching) were pure white, flaked at the top with black. Eirik handed the accompanying bow to Ash – it was almost as tall as her.
    â€˜What do they want us to do?’ Ash asked Arthur as Gunnar offered the longsword to him.
    â€˜I think they want us to take them,’ he replied. He shook his head politely to Gunnar then turned to Bjorn. ‘We can’t use these. They’re dangerous.’
    Bjorn rumbled a response. Eirik grunted at Ash, getting her attention. He mimed that he had a bow and arrow in his grip. He pulled back the imaginary elastic string then let the make-believe arrow fly. He nodded urgently to Ash, pushing the real bow into her hands.
    â€˜They want to teach us,’ she realised.
    â€˜No,’ Arthur said to Bjorn, aghast. ‘We can’t do that. You can’t teach us.’
    â€˜Why not?’ Ash asked, slightly annoyed and still holding the bow. ‘Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t–’
    â€˜It’s nothing to do with that, Ash.’
    â€˜What is it then?’ She sounded like she doubted him.
    â€˜I don’t want … I don’t want anything happening to you. Or Max. Not like last time. And if we start messing around with swords and arrows …’
    â€˜Someone could get hurt,’ Ash finished. She thought for a second then