The werewolf gave a beastly shrug and shifted Aspect ohso-slightly, becoming a sullen-looking young man with a bad case of acne and thick fur on the palms of his hands. The stench of testosterone was dreadful, as was the stench of his oily hair.

‘Whatever,’ said Fenny. ‘Hi, Dad.’

I forced a smile. ‘That’s better,’ I said. ‘Let’s get you looking presentable. If you’re to have your inheritance, like your brother and sister, then we have to convince the gods that you’re not just a teenage dirtbag. Right?’

‘Whaddya mean, inheritance?’ The wolf’s yellow eyes gleamed suspiciously. I could tell he wasn’t stupid; unappealing he might be, but there was intelligence in those eyes. Right now, I wasn’t sure whether this would help my cause or not; I just gave him my broadest smile and launched into my sales talk.

‘Well, Jormungand got the One Sea,’ I said, ‘and Hel got the Underworld. It’s only fair that you should have your own lands and dominions, but first you have to let Odin decide what kind of territory you deserve.’

‘Ironwood,’ said Fenris, without even stopping to think.

‘Well, Ironwood’s certainly a possibility,’ I said. ‘But have you considered—’

‘Ironwood,’ said Fenris again.

‘I get it. You want Ironwood,’ I said, with a grin to Angie. ‘All right, I think we can manage that. But first, you have to come with me and swear your allegiance to Asgard.’

‘My what?’ said Fenris. ‘Wolves don’t swear. Wolves just hang out and . . . and, like, devour things.’

‘Well, this time it’s going to be different. I want you to be presentable. I’m not having you turn up in Asgard looking like something from under the bottom of a cave-troll’s shoe. A haircut first – and perhaps some clothes?’

It wasn’t an easy sell. But at last, with the help of Fenny’s loving mother, I managed to get him to look . . . if not quite presentable, then at least looking vaguely human. I wasn’t expecting him to score much of a hit with the gods, but I thought perhaps if they met him, they’d understand that he wasn’t the monster they thought he was, and they might cut the kid a bit of slack.

Not so, unfortunately. To be fair, young Fenny was going through a bit of a rebellious phase, characterized by grunting, bad smells, obscene language, loud music in his rooms late at night and a generally uncouth approach to anything of the opposite sex.

Even Idun, who had declared him ‘cute’ when he first arrived in Asgard, complained about his lecherous comments to her and to her handmaidens. But it was when a practical joke (against Balder, as it happened) went wrong that Frigg’s maternal instinct rebelled, and she went running to Odin to demand that the werewolf be restrained.