I tried again. ‘Collateral damage, that’s what it was. Choose your own cliché. Whatever. In any case, it wasn’t my fault.’

‘That goes without saying,’ said Angie.

‘So why tell me at all?’ I said.

She gave that little-girl smile of hers. ‘You may think Gullveig needs you,’ she said. ‘But as soon as your usefulness runs out, you’ll be on the pile like the rest of them. I don’t care if you trust me or not. Just don’t go turning your back on her.’

When Angie had gone, I thought for some time about what she’d said. Perhaps she was right, I told myself. Perhaps I hadn’t been careful enough in my dealings with Heidi. Perhaps I’d let my pursuit of physical pleasures as well as my desire for revenge get in the way of self-interest. After all, what did I really know about her? What did she know of the Oracle? And what kind of deal, if any, did she have going with Chaos?

I went back to the prophecy. It wasn’t much help. Heidi wasn’t mentioned by name, although I remembered this couplet:

In Ironwood, the Witch awaits.

The Fenris wolf will have his day.

At first, because of the reference to Fenny, I’d assumed that the Witch was Angie. But now I began to ask myself if Heidi wasn’t a better fit. If so, what was she waiting for?

Of course, I had no answers. All I had was the prophecy and Angie’s unfounded suspicions – which could have been due to jealousy, or simple malice, who could tell?

And so I went on with business, telling myself I could always get out if things started to smell bad. But by the time I realized how, once more, I’d been manipulated, there was nothing left to do but run across the burning bridge towards whatever awaited me . . .

Lesson 3 Darkness

LESSON 3

Darkness

It’s a crazy, god-eat-god world.

Lokabrenna

NO ONE SEES CLEARLY during a war. History gives perspective. Perhaps that’s why it took me so long to understand what had happened: our betrayal by Mimir’s Head; my betrayal by Gullveig. And the role of Surt, of course; the pendulum of Chaos swinging back like a headsman’s axe to cut us down like a field of grain. Oh, it was epic. Rousing stuff. Rivers of blood; rivers of knives; operatic feats of bravery and self-sacrifice.

The Oracle puts it this way:

I speak as I must. Three rivers converge
Upon the gods in their domain.
A river of knives from the east; from the north
And south, twin rivers of ice and flame.