Chapter 2

Matt wasn’t sure what was going on. Why had Richard brought in his Italian teacher? A man Richard claimed to be his boss? Matt just stared at the two men, hoping for some sort of answer, hoping that one of them would speak. He had moved to his bed after changing into a pair of black pyjamas with little skulls decorating them. The winter sky had darkened and Matt had felt uncomfortable in his jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt. He looked down at his feet, which still wore black socks decorated with caterpillars. He looked back up at Richard and Professor Mafuro, willing them silently for an explanation. Neither of them spoke. They just stood there and looked at Matthew with a strange interest.

            “How did you do that?” Matt asked, finally.

            “Do what?” Professor Mafuro was casual.

            “How did you open the door?” Matt wondered aloud.

            “The door was already open, Matthew.” Richard said coolly. “Remember? Before I left you said ‘Leave the door open’.”

            “Did I?” Matt wasn’t so sure.

            “Yes!”

They were silent again, and the two men stood watching the young boy. Matt felt cheap and commoditised, as though he were up for auction.

            “Can I help you?” Matt asked warily after a few minutes’ silence. He had a sudden realisation, followed by panic. “If this is about what happened earlier in class, I’m sorry!” His eyes widened and his forehead creased in worry. Then Richard said something in Italian, which Odin replied to in Italian. Richard looked at Matt with searching eyes, but didn’t question him.

Matt breathed a sigh of relief and searched Professor Mafuro’s eyes.

            “No, no Mattia,” Professor Mafuro said. “What happens at school will stay at school. And we are outside the school, so call me Odin. I am here for another reason entirely- your father called my brother who recommended that we come to talk to you about your recent anger problems.”

Matt groaned and shut his eyes. He buried his face in his hands. He should have guessed that his father would take to calling some other psychiatrist. When would Richard realise that this wasn’t some psychological disorder? Matt had worried himself sick for years wondering what was wrong with him, and he had figured it out: there was nothing wrong with him. He had hoped that Richard, after years of psychiatric sessions, would finally realise that nothing was wrong with Matt. Matt was still waiting for that day, it seemed, as Richard had practically revealed Professor Mafuro- Odin- to be a part-time psychiatrist. Matt thought about what he was going to say, not that it would matter because the talk was inevitable.

            “Okay,” Matt said. “Let’s get this straight: the coolest teacher at my college is a psychiatrist, whose brother you called about my anger problems? That I can understand, but don’t fuck with my sense of reality! I saw a chair, a huge pile of Ron’s books and my bicycle disappear!”

            “Language, young man!” Richard scolded. He turned to Odin and said something in Italian. Odin nodded and entered the room. He sat next to Matt.

            “I like your pyjamas,” he said.

Matt’s eyes widened and he turned to Richard. Horrific images flashed before his eyes.

            Don’t let him be a pervert, please don’t! Matt screamed inside his head. He turned back to Odin. He’s the coolest guy I know! Why are all the cool people creeps? Why do all the cool guys turn out to be pervs? What the fuck is up with the world?

            “Thanks?” Matt wasn’t sure what to say, but ‘thanks’ seemed good enough. He wasn’t sure how it sounded, though. Probably like a plea for help. Had Richard planned this? Was this some elaborate scheme to get Matt committed for good?

            “Mattia, no worries!” Odin said, putting a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I will not hurt you. I just need you to tell me if everything is alright.”

            How can everything be alright when you’re practically coming on to me? Matt screamed inside his head. He saw Odin’s left eye twitch. Shock exploded inside Matt and he instantly panicked.

            NO! THERE IS NO POSSIBLE WAY YOU HEARD THAT! Did I say it? Did I think it? What the fuck?

Odin’s eye twitched again. Matt grew suspicious quickly.

            Okay, he thought, if that’s how you want to play it.... WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?

Odin looked at Richard. Richard looked at Matthew. Their eyes met, and Matthew found himself overcome with guilt. He immediately felt out of place, as though he had been pulled from his comfort zone into a world he barely knew. He felt short of breath and his eyes began to sting. He clutched his chest and fell backwards, writhing against the unfamiliarity, curling into a ball. He kicked out spasmodically, hitting Odin. He couldn’t quite see, but he knew that Odin and Richard had moved so that they were standing together, watching him, seeing him gasp for breath like a fish gasping for water. Then it was all over. He felt regular again, if only a bit stupid. He stayed curled up on the bed with his eyes closed, regained his breathing. He felt drained, like somebody had sucked the life out of him. Weakly, he opened his eyes and lifted his head high enough to see that Richard and Odin were still watching him. Neither appeared worried.

He tried to speak, but Richard was suddenly at his side, pressing a hand to his boy’s mouth with a deadly look in his eyes.

            “Don’t speak,” he whispered harshly. “You’ve unwittingly proven something to us, and we are not willing for it to get out of hand. Just do as I say and nobody gets hurt.”

Matt had to nod, although he wanted to know what he had just ‘proven’ to the two men.

            “Good,” Richard said. “Matthew, son, just look into my eyes.” Matt obeyed. “Good, now don’t panic, but you’re about to get very, very drowsy.”

He did get very, very drowsy. He closed his eyes and began to feel nauseous. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there, and he didn’t want to know. All he knew was that he was finally at rest.

Richard looked up at Odin.

            “How the fuck does Loki expect me to do this?” he hissed. He looked at his eldest son with fear. If they evaluated him and the results came back positive... Richard shuddered to think about it. Gently, he removed his hand from Matthew’s mouth and stood back. He looked at Odin and nodded, but before the elder could move, Richard was outside the bedroom. He didn’t want to see what was about to happen- the very thought was harrowing enough, but he couldn’t help thinking about it anyway. He raced to the living room and threw himself on his armchair, curling himself into the foetal position. He tried to block his ears- he could hear the ancient words. It was almost as though he was back there, on that night when he had travelled back to England- no valid passport, no currency, no legal proof that he was who he was- when he left the plane, when he left the airport. That night, he cursed his mother. If he truly was magic, the curse would have affected her by now. She would be dead, but in her annual family letter, in the pictures she always mailed him, Jared and Celeste at the end of the year, she was healthier, happier. And tied to her forever was Stephen. Compared to the way she had treated him on the day of his departure, Stephen’s years of constant abuse were years of constant puppies and marshmallows. Ever since he found out that Stephen wasn’t his father, his mother- Anora- had been his one connection to his real father, but what she had told him, the documents she had handed over... he couldn’t quite grasp himself after that. Then he had met Marissa, and all of that faded away, although the nightmares still haunted him. Then the tragedy happened, and his psychological health had taken a turn for the worse. This was what he told Matthew and Ron, and Jared and Celeste. In fact, the nightmares got worse. He felt his body changing, morphing into something human-like, but not human. The only benefit, it seemed, was that he could bench more at the gym.

The ancient words still haunted him, even more so as Odin spoke them in a separate room. They hung in the air, clung to him like a second skin. He knew what Matthew was going through right now. First, Odin would have laid him so he faced North-South. Secondly, and this point was most crucial if the rites were to be successful, Odin would have anointed Matthew with a sacred oil by hallowing him with the hammer, Mjollnir, and outlining the Volkknot on Matthew’s forehead with the oil while murmuring an incantation. Thirdly and finally, this part was up to Matthew: he would dream. A good dream would indicate a positive result, whereas a nightmare didn’t bear thinking about. Odin would continue the incantation until it ended, leave the premises, and come back before Matthew awoke.

            “I am leaving now, Riccardo.”

Richard looked up and saw Odin standing in front of him. He looked at the man as though he was seeing him for the first time.

            “I will see you soon.” Odin said, turning and leaving the room. When he reached the threshold, he turned to Richard with a deep look in his eyes. “I am sorry, Riccardo,” he said. “I am sorry.”

He left.

There was one thing about this dream that disturbed Matt- and it wasn’t the tree. It wasn’t the fact that he was hanging from the tree. It wasn’t even the fact that he was hanging from the tree by his feet. It was the fact that he had one eye. He reached to touch his face, which felt somehow hollow and incomplete. It was then he discovered that his right eye socket was empty. He didn’t panic- he knew how he had lost the eye. It had been a bargaining strategy, of sorts. Something about a fountain. He wasn’t quite sure why he was hanging from the tree, or how he knew its name- Yggdrasil. He ran his hands along his body and found a gaping gash in his left side. His hand came away wet and sticky. He brought the hand- a large, calloused hand- to his good eyes and saw the blood turning black. The weather wasn’t particularly helpful, but it was reassuring. He had a friend who would protect the tree from the lightening. The sky was dark with rain clouds. Rain beat down from every direction, soaking him through to the skin. He had been there for three nights, and this was his fourth night. And he would hang another night, and so on until he had hung for nine nights.

He knew Yggdrasil like an old friend- it felt right that he should be hanging from the very limbs like he was. The weather was turbulent, but Yggdrasil was conscious and magical. It made everything feel warm and safe, and Matt felt completely peaceful. He felt like he was being hugged from the inside.

Matt woke up drowsy. He felt strange, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He looked down and saw that he was in his bed, wearing his black skull-print pyjamas and covered up by his duvet. He felt a brush of cold wind and saw that the window on his side had been opened. He moved to get up so that he could close it, but he felt tied to the bed. There was something strange on his forehead- like a film of something oily. He reached up and touched his forehead. His fingers came away oily and when he smelled them they smelled of; fresh, juicy strawberries; tangy, sweet eucalyptus; and cool, lip-smacking honey. Three very familiar smells, but familiar for entirely different reasons. He touched his right eye, and was relieved to find that his right eye hadn’t mysteriously vanished with the course of the dream. He lay back in his bed against his pillows and smiled up at the ceiling, suddenly realising what was strange about how he had woken up: this was the first good night’s sleep he had had in a while. He turned on his side so that he could go back to sleep, but was startled to find Odin sitting in a chair- the same chair that had disappeared from earlier... today? Or was it yesterday? Matt couldn’t quite pinpoint when it had been. For that matter, how long had he been asleep? Had he missed college? He fell asleep on Tuesday night, so if he had slept overnight and throughout the day, that would make it Wednesday evening. The thought petrified Matt- how could he have missed college?

            “Relax, Mattia,” Odin soothed him, “you have not slept for long. Only an hour or so. You must have needed it.”

            “Okay.” Matt said quietly.

            “Your father and I talked,” Odin told him, “and we think your anger might be the result of sleep deprivation.”

            “Okay.”

            “He tells me he hears you calling out at night, Mattia.”

Matt froze. Did he really sleep-talk? He couldn’t quite believe it- his nightmares often left him paralysed until the morning.

            “What does he think I say?” he asked, curious.

            “You talk about gods,” Odin said with a wry smile. “About power and war, but failure, still.”

            “About God?” Matt asked. “I dream about a bearded dude on a cloud?” Matt knew that this wasn’t true. Although they didn’t study the ‘traditional’ God at his college, they contemplated the idea of an omniamorous being high in the sky, and if Matt’s dreams had anything to do with love, then Matt was an Echidna.

            “Not ‘God’. Gods.” Odin corrected. “Riccardo says that you have woken Renaldo and himself up with your dream-chatter.”

Matt stayed still and silent.

            “Tell me, Mattia,” Odin said, “What do you dream about?”

Matt didn’t want to tell him. He wasn’t sure he knew this man anymore. They had a history as teacher and student, and that history included Matt’s failing to grasp the languages Odin taught. Matt just looked at Odin with worry. Why had Richard told him those things? Richard had mentioned that Odin was his boss, but Matt didn’t know what Richard actually did.

            “Mattia,” Odin said with a trustworthy smile. “No need to worry. You can tell me.”

There was something about Odin’s eyes. Not quite grey, but not quite hazel. Just looking into them made Matt feel comforted, but wary. It was dangerous, being here. How could he trust Odin? How could he tell him the stark reality of his nightmares? The nightmares that had plagued him for years?

            How can I trust you? Matt wondered.

            What begins as a thought shall remain a thought. Matt jumped, startled. Where had that come from? He looked around, but his gaze stopped on Odin’s amused smile.

            “You can read minds.” Matt said slowly.

            “Maybe,” Odin said with a shrug. “Don’t worry about that. As I thought, what begins as a thought shall remain a thought. I will not speak a word. Just think about your dreams, tell me through your thoughts.”

Matt found this hard to believe, and wondered if he had actually woken up. He began to think about his dreams. He looked at Odin and their eyes connected. Soon, Matt found every nightmare he had had since he was fifteen streaming through his mind, appearing in front of him like a strange mist. He felt Odin watching him with wide eyes as visions of murderous trolls, angered gods and revered rulers and dictators entered his mind. Matt found himself crying with fear and bewilderment as scenes he believed to be forever forgotten danced wickedly before his eyes. The dream he had had last week, the one with the half-rotten woman with Marissa’s face... the face people used to tell him he resembled. The woman reached out to him, opened her mouth and released a putrid sigh. He felt choked by the sigh, but advanced toward her. The dream was replaced by another- the cliff. Another dream- a river, flowing from the udder of a huge cow. The dreams streamed before his eyes and Odin took them in, a look of horror frozen on his face, but the fear was underlined by a sense of interest.

Finally, his last dream- the one he had just had- danced in front of him. It floated, as the others had, in front of him like a mist. It was almost unreal, but as he looked at the dream, he realised that he wasn’t looking at himself. He was looking at someone else, someone he felt he knew. A body he had inhabited in the dream-world.

That was it. The dream flew across and met with Odin, who seemed to take it in by some form of osmosis. He blinked once, stood up, said ‘goodbye’ and left. Matt’s head began to feel swim and he soon found his eyelids drooping. He was asleep before he could think about it.

Richard heard Odin leave the flat. The older man didn’t stop in the living room to say goodbye, or to let him know what had happened. The silence told him that there must have been something wrong. Matthew’s bike was propped up against the wall by the door. If he came in and asked, Richard would say; “You were going to bike to college, remember?” and hope for the best. Richard sensed something powerful in the air. It was only a matter of time before it was sniffed out. Maybe that was why Loki needed Matthew evaluated. It made sense: if the Council sniffed Matthew out as a threat- or worse, as a warrior- then nobody would get any peace.

Richard jumped- he felt movement in his pocket, but he calmed when he remembered it was his phone. He pulled it out and saw Thom’s name on the caller ID.

            “Did you get my message?” Richard asked.

            “Why else would I call you, moron?” Thom replied.

Richard smiled a little.

            “I take it you’ve called Loki.” Thom said sternly.

            “Yeah.”

            “And?”

            “Odin came over,” Richard briefed him on the events that had occurred in past two hours and Thom sighed when it was over.

            “Of course,” Thom sighed. “Loki does like his drama. Latest intel from the Guardians is that the stars-”

            “- are disappearing.”

            “Hang in there,” Thom sounded surprised. “How do you know?”

            “Odin told me.” Richard crossed his legs and leant forward, his eyelids drooping. “He said I might as well hear it.”

            “I think I might know why,” Thom said. “I’m not gonna bullshit you, mate, but Loki says he’s gathering a team. Some once-in-a-life-time deal. Reckons all that genetic research they did a few years ago might have something to do with it.”

Richard cringed at ‘genetic research’ and struggled to think of something to say. Thom didn’t seem to notice, and kept on talking.

            “He’s saying the team’ll be helping him out with something he’s been working on for the past thirty-odd years!” Thom continued.  “I wonder what it could be... The big guy says he’ll be deciding the team based on personal and professional merit!”

Somebody said something in the background, to which Thom responded; “Nothing like Ursa Major and the Big Dipper!” Thom and the other person laughed “Sorry, Rich.” Thom said, “Morgue’s been a bit wicked with the humour tonight!”

            “Ah, you’re on duty?” Richard asked, suddenly feeling guilty.

            “Yep,” Thom chirped. “Nothing major, though. Morgue’s one of the, you-know-whats.  The ones we can’t mention unless we’re in the HQ, together? Like I said, it’s not major duty. It would have been just Morgue, but he was allowed to have a partner on this if he wanted to and he wanted me to be with him.”

            “Nice,” Richard said. “Tell him I said ‘hello’.”

            “One sec,” Thom said. “Morgue? Morgue! Richie says ‘hello’!”

            “Huh-loh Ri-chay!” Morgue said in a robotic voice. Richard smiled. He was glad they could have some fun while on duty. Richard normally got paired with someone under Loki or Odin’s orders, and they usually wouldn’t smile. Luckily, Richard didn’t go on duty much. There were plenty of others who could do it, usually volunteers looking for on-edge excitement.

            “Hello Morgue!” Richard said. “Can I have Thom back, please?”

            “Sure!” Morgue said. “Hey, Thom? Richie wants you back. I’ll be in the toilet, mate. See you in a few.” Richard heard a door open and close, and, if they were based where he thought they were, then that gave him and Thom ten minutes to talk.

            “So why are you calling me back?” Richard asked seriously.

            “Word is,” Thom said, “Loki wants you, me, Morgue, Cal and Terry on his team.”

            “Terry...” Richard whispered, trailing off.

            “Terry.” Thom said it as though the decision had already been made. “Besides, they won’t be announcing the team until you and the others on leave are back.”

            “So, in a week,” Richard began, “I might be working with my worst enemy, my two best friends and the leader’s niece?”

            “Pretty much.” Thom said. “The team’s supposed to be reserved for the best of the best, or something like that. They need one person from every division.”

            “What division’s Terry in, again?” Richard asked. He was confused- there were twelve divisions in the Organisation. That would mean there would be thirteen with Loki. Suddenly, Richard understood why Loki would want Terry: “He’s evening it out.”

            “Who?” Thom asked.

            “Loki’s evening out the numbers,” Richard sighed. “With one from each division, he would have twelve. Include Loki, and you’ve got thirteen. Add Terry, and you’ve just kicked out any bad luck because there are fourteen!”

            “Nice,” Thom commended. “Logical, but Terry’s already in on what Loki’s been doing, apparently. And Odin’s going to help out along the way. So, really, it’s fifteen. Thirteen with us and Loki, and fifteen with an expert and a crazy man.”

            “Who’s expert and who’s crazy?” Richard asked seriously.

Thom laughed.

            “I’m not kidding.”

Thom stopped laughing, but there were traces of it in his voice. “I don’t know,” he said. “We’ll have to wait until next week. I can’t wait until then!”

            “For a Tracker, you’re sure enthusiastic!”

            “Somebody’s gotta be,” Thom said. “I’ve got to go, now. I’ll call back soon, okay? Tomorrow morning. I’ll sort out this latest case- I assume you hear about the Old Bailey.”

            “You assume correctly.”

Richard heard the front door open, and the hurried footsteps of his youngest son. Then the sound of excited jumping.

            “Ron! Ron!” Kevin called. “You were awesome! You were awesome!”

            “Thanks kiddo!”

Richard eyed the open living room door warily.

            “Your kids are back? Okay, I’ll wrap this up quick: I’ll arrange help for Matthew, and I’ll see you next week. Ciao.”

            “Ciao.”

Richard hung up just as Kevin shot through the door, covered in snow.

            “Whoa, buddy!” he said when he saw his youngest boy. “Is it snowing out there?”

            “Daddy!” he squealed. “We had a snowball fight! Ron was awesome! These kids from the other block, they challenged us, they threw and threw and threw, and Ron was like ‘Nooooooo’, and he came at them from every angle, like he controlled the snow! Then we hid while they tried to get us, and then Ron came at them again! They were so angry when we beat them! It was awesome! Ron’s awesome! Why can’t Matt play as awesome as Ron?”

            “Well, son,” Richard chuckled. “Sounds like you had fun! You’ve got the best big brothers in the world- Matt to tell you stories, and Ron to play games!”

Kevin smiled a huge, toothy grin and hugged Richard before turning and skipping out of the room with rosy cheeks and a happy glow in his eyes. Ron came in taking off his coat and hanging it on the top of the door.

            “How was it?” Richard asked.

Ron turned and they locked eyes. Richard smiled warmly, Ron stood rigid.

            “It was fine,” Ron said cautiously. “It was great.”

            “Matt’s asleep.” Richard said.

Ron relaxed and went to sit on the settee. He stretched his legs out and rested his hands on his stomach. He looked up at Richard with a questioning look.

            “I can finally relax, I take it?” he asked. “No funny business? No Matt growling at me like a rabid wolf?”

            “Yep.” Richard said, stretching his legs out with his son. “We can all relax.”