Mimir – the Wise. Odin’s uncle. Apparently, not wise enough.

Honir – the Silent. Never shuts up.

Njörd – father of Frey and Freyja. God of sea. Nice feet. Married to . . .

Skadi – the Snowshoe Huntress. Not one of my biggest fans. The words ‘forgive and forget’ don’t feature in her vocabulary. Has a thing about bondage. And snakes.

Aegir – god of the storm. Married to . . .

Ran – custodian of the drowned. Strangely enough, likes to party.

Týr – god of war. Brave, but not bright.

Others

(including: demons, monsters, warlords, freaks and other undesirables)

Yours Truly – Your Humble Narrator. Otherwise known as the Trickster; the Father of Lies; Loki; Lucky; Wildfire; Dogstar and various other epithets, not all of them flattering. Not the most popular guy around.

Hel – his daughter, guardian of the Dead.

Jormungand – the World Serpent, demon offspring of Yours Truly.

Fenris – aka Fenny, demon wolf, also the demon offspring of, etc.

Angrboda – or Angie. Mother of the three above. So shoot me. Turns out I’m not naturally monogamous.

Dvalin – a smith. One of the sons of Ivaldi.

Brokk – a smith. Good at sewing.

Thiassi – a warlord. Skadi’s father. Likes: ice-fishing; torture; foreign travel.

Thialfi – a fanboy.

Roskva – a fangirl.

Gullveig-Heid – the Sorceress. Renegade of the Vanir. Mistress of runes. Shapeshifter extraordinaire. Greedy, clever and spiteful. All my favourite qualities . . .

Lord Surt – ruler of Chaos. Or whatever you call the lord of a place that, by definition, has no rules.

Foreword

FOREWORD

OK. Stop. Stop right there.

That was the Authorized Version. The Prophecy of the Oracle, as told to Odin Allfather by the Head of Mimir the Wise, and dealing, in thirty-six stanzas, with all of the history of the Nine Worlds, from ‘Let there be light’ to Ragnarók.

Pretty neat, don’t you think?

Well, this isn’t the Authorized Version. This is my version of events. And the first thing you have to understand about this little narrative is that there is no real beginning. Or real end, for that matter; although, of course, there have been many of both. Multiple endings, multiple beginnings, woven together so tightly that no one can tell them apart any more. Endings, beginnings, prophecies, myths, stories, legends and lies, all part of the same big carpet; especially the lies, of course – which is what you knew I’d say, me being the Father and Mother of Lies, but this time it’s at least as true as anything you’d call history.