The Witch of Ironwood has always favoured a youthful, innocent Aspect quite out of line with her true character, which was as perverse as they come, and today she looked about sixteen, fetchingly clad in black leather; wide-eyed under a thick line of kohl; dreadlocks plaited with silver thread. Most sixteen-year-olds wouldn’t have been carrying a pair of perfectly matched double-bladed swords, curved as sweet as a baby’s smile and practically singing with sharpness – but then, Angie was never typical.

‘Is it my birthday?’ I enquired.

She ignored that and instead looked around with interest at my quarters. Noting the silken draperies, the embroidered cushions on the ground, the candles, the furs, the food and drink, she raised a bejewelled eyebrow.

‘I suppose you think you’ve got it made,’ she said, sitting down on a cushion. ‘All this and the prospect of carnage, too. You must be in hog’s heaven.’

I smiled at her. ‘What’s wrong with that? I’ve had an Age of pain, discomfort, humiliation and thwarted desire. I thought perhaps it might be time to experience some of the nicer sensations before the Worlds come to an end.’

‘And then what?’ Angie said. ‘You think Chaos will take you back after everything you’ve done?’

I had to admit she had me there. There’s a special antechamber of Dream reserved for renegade demons, and I wasn’t in a hurry to see it for myself.

I said: ‘Maybe, maybe not. In any case, I’m not planning to die. In fact, I have it on good authority that I’m going to bring down Asgard.’

‘Good authority? You mean the Oracle,’ said Angie, with a curl of the lip.

‘It hasn’t been wrong yet,’ I said.

‘But it hasn’t told you everything.’ Angie helped herself to wine. ‘And neither has your new friend, that little madam Gullveig-Heid.’

Ah. I thought it might come to that.

‘Feeling jealous, are we?’ I said.

‘Not on your life,’ said Angie. ‘I’m only keeping in touch with you for the sake of the children. Way to look after our son, by the way. I let you have him for the weekend and before I know it he’s chained underground, awaiting Last Times and stinking of mead.’

‘Ah. That.’

‘Yes. That. If you hadn’t messed things up, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, and I wouldn’t be joining forces with Pandaemonium’s most poisonous blonde.’

‘You’re joining forces with Heidi?’ I said. Well, I could see the advantages. Angie was the mother of Hel, which made her a force to be reckoned with. But why would Angie agree to the deal? ‘Ah. Fenris.’ It all made sense. ‘So, Heidi promised to free him, did she? In exchange for your oath?’

She sniffed. ‘I had no choice. He’s my son. Besides, she freed you, didn’t she?’

‘Yes.’

‘That was nice. So what does she want?’