The Family Lokison (Part 4)

Special (VALI)

"Aye, go!" Uncle Freyr yelled after the ground shook the first time. He stuffed Tiwaz in the sack they brought him in and ignored how the cat yowled. "Boys, take whatever you can carry."

Nanny shuffled with her small steps to the other Vanir camps and helped people stand. She said nothing when she did—like back home, they didn't talk much at all.

I could help, too. I wasn't useless. Following her lead, I ran to other families and offered my hands. "Come on. We have to leave. Hurry." It didn't matter that we were mostly strangers; the people I knew made up for the people I didn't. There wasn't any panic except for the tone in Uncle Freyr's voice.

Narvi brought me my pack and held out the strap for me to loop my arm through. "I'll help you tie it."

"Where's yours?" I asked, quickly letting him knot me in.

"All I want is right here." He patted the small collection of rocks on his hip. "You have your necklace, don't you?"

I nodded. "Haven't taken it off since we left home."

Nanny waved us forward behind the flow of others. With Tiwaz on her back, it would be easy to stay near her; he couldn't be quiet in that bag, though his cries seemed to make everyone around us uneasy, like a screaming baby. Uncle Freyr brought up the back of the room and wasn't far behind. He was the only person acting like a leader, so everyone trusted him.

The world quaked again, stronger this time, knocking people off their feet on all sides. Dust rained from the ceiling. People screamed ahead of us.

"Keep going," Uncle Freyr yelled again.

I took Narvi's hand and pulled him through the small opening to the next room. "Mum's this way."

"I heard Father outside," he said, gripping me tightly. "Vali, he said Asgard's falling apart!"

"It is?" We were stopped again, caught in a crowd of bodies. Harder to breathe. Harder to see. "How can you hear him?"

"I just can." Someone pushed him from behind and he fell into me, tearing his hand away from mine so he could hold his own arms and shrink. "I wanna go home."

"Me, too." The world groaned under us, leading to more screams at the front. "We'll get out of here soon, Narvi."

I looked to my right and startled—an old woman lay against one of the pillars, though her face was hidden by the rubble that crushed her. She was oddly familiar; her blue, shiny dress was like the one worn by Modi's minder, but I couldn't tell from a quick glance if it was her or someone else. A trail of red blood snaked over her hands and down her exposed neck. Gruesome, awesome, and sad.

My heart raced, suddenly aware of how much danger we were in if injured people weren't being cared for. I couldn't do anything for her, either, making me feel helpless and small. Where were the healers? Where was the order? The crowd got bigger and bigger as more people stood to escape. Chaos. A contagious sickness of fear.

Narvi focused on something to his left and stopped walking. Must've seen something that upset him, too. He looked up at me with shine over his eyes. "We have to get out."

I squinted. "What do you think we're doing?"

"You're faster than me. Find Mum." He pointed to a hole in the crowd—enough for me to fit through if I hurried. "I'm safe with Nanny and Uncle Freyr. Tell her not to worry and go to the Bifrost."

I shook my head. "No. I won't leave you behind."

"You aren't. I'm on my way, too. Trust me." He stood on his toes and pecked my forehead, the same way Mum would to kiss us goodnight. "Go. Go!" He shoved me to the right, quickly disappearing behind more tall strangers.

"Narvi?" I called for him, but everyone pushed us apart. If I didn't move my feet, I'd fall and be trampled. Nanny was ahead of me—Tiwaz kept wailing—and Uncle Freyr's voice screamed for people to move faster.

If there was ever a time for bravery, it was here. Outside. Right.

I tried zig-zagging, but it was useless. Something stopped them up ahead. Another door, perhaps, or damage. I itched to see sunlight. Keep moving, come on!

While I stared into the sea of legs before me, I clenched my jaw with bitter frustration. Why aren't you walking any faster? What's happening outside? The booms crashed louder, one after the other. Decorations fell from the walls while people cowered to avoid them. Plumes of dust made everyone cough and lose their bearing all over again.

The sickening sound of more people crying made me cover my ears. I wondered if this was what Narvi felt like when he didn't want to sit at the bonfire anymore. Everything unraveled in the panic, spinning into questions with no single answers. If Asgard falls apart, where are we going? What happens if we lose all the people we know? Why couldn't I help that poor lady on the floor? Get her up, get her out...do something?

Not far ahead, someone ran through in brown sandals. Familiar. Handmade. A pair just like mine. Vanir?

I hopped in place, searching for the culprit. Near the front of the room, already escaping, was a bouncing head of brown hair.

Narvi? You caught up already?

I felt like a fool. He'd pushed me ahead—a proper head start—yet here I was, lagging. Patience was already one of my known weaknesses; when speed could mean life or death, failure hit harder.

With my mind on my brother came a new, jealous thought: why could Narvi hear Father's voice, but not me?

It was something else—yet another new talent. Add it to his healing. His reading. His writing. The way he learned new tricks on the first try. He could do anything he wanted without ever struggling; why was I left behind by the fates of our bloodline? Anger ate at me. It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair. I wanted to lose control and shove everyone out of the way to beat him outside. If I wasn't faster, what else did I have? Seeing Astrid again already embarrassed me. Heat rose in my eyes that I shook away.

One of the pillars to my right snapped in the center, buckling under the weight of the palace above. More screaming and pushing. I fell forward, barely able to stay on my feet. My wolf fang necklace dropped from the center of my chest, untucking itself and tapping my chin.

I clutched it and put it away. That's right. Wolves don't cry. Wolves aren't scared. Neither am I. The crowd ahead, still stagnant, wasn't a wall to me anymore. I huffed and imagined weaving through all of them, ducking into spaces no one else could fit, leaving them all behind.

Little Wolf. I'm a wolf. Be a wolf.

It started with a step. Always forward. Light and careful. Everyone grew taller, but I saw things sharper. Something burned outside, filling my nose with smoke. The world was overwhelming—sounds grew louder, more full somehow, like the world was a hollow drum echoing back at me. I overtook people faster than my best days in the forest, barreling forward on four legs, not two.

I don't know how my hands became paws, or what happened to the brown sandals over my feet. A simple command helped my body to change. An instinct, not a wish. The wolf was my courage. A gift hidden away—effortless shapeshifting.

A small victory in the middle of madness, though I didn't lose sight of where I was headed. My pack loosened and slapped against my back while I ran. My hair, always falling in my eyes, spread over my body with warmth. People shrieked when I passed, but I didn't care. I wasn't dangerous to them; I just wanted to leave. It felt natural and normal to race through the palace, taking control of new agility. Soon, I found sunlight and the rainbow bridge.

I'd beat Narvi out. I would find the Bifrost. No one could stop me or make me turn back. I would prove to all that I was special, too.