Arthur Quinn and Hell's Keeper by Alan Early Page B

humanity – and Arthur felt fear rise in his throat. Her hair was as he’d remembered it: strawberry-blonde, curling inwards around the jaw. But the rest of her was completely different. Her eyes were golden, as Fenrir’s had been, but were glowing and shone in the darkness. Her face was contorted, her high cheekbones and narrow chin exaggerated and drawn. Deep wrinkles indented her entire face, marking out her forehead and mouth lines. Even in the red of the eternal lamp, her complexion seemed wrong, as if the skin itself would be a pallid, sickly green colour under normal light. Either way, there was no radiance in it and no love in her expression. This was not his mother. This was Hel.
    â€˜Hello, Arthur,’ she said. Even her voice was different: deeper and scratchier somehow.
    â€˜Let my mum go.’
    â€˜I am your mum.’
    â€˜No you’re not. You’re an abomination.’
    â€˜Now, now, Arthur!’ scolded a voice from behind him. ‘That’s not a nice thing to say to mummy dearest, is it?’ Loki appeared from the darkness, pushing Drysi in her wheelchair. As he strolled forward, he hummed an old song that Arthur vaguely recognised: ‘Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree’. The god probably thought it suited the situation in some sick way. He stopped at Hel’s side and tilted his head quizzically at Arthur.
    â€˜Aren’t you going to say hello to your dearest grandpapa?’ asked Loki. ‘And by “dearest grandpapa” I clearly mean me! I always knew there was something special about you, something drawing us together. And now I know what.’ He patted his pockets absentmindedly. ‘I wish I had some Werther’s Originals to give you. That’s what granddaddies do, right?’
    â€˜You’ll never be my grandfather, Loki. No matter what you think.’
    â€˜Do you know what, Arthur? I believe, for the first time, I’m in agreement with you.’ He laughed suddenly. Drysi and Hel joined in.
    â€˜Set my mother free,’ Arthur said.
    â€˜Or what?’ Loki stopped cackling and looked straight at him.
    â€˜I’ve stopped you before. I’ll stop you again.’
    â€˜I don’t think you quite see the gravity of the situation.’ He looked past Arthur. ‘Oh look – here comes the cavalry!’
    Arthur looked over his shoulder to see Ash, Ellie and Ex stumbling through the graveyard towards him.
    â€˜I told you to wait,’ he hissed at them.
    â€˜Oh, the more the merrier I always say!’ cried Loki, clapping his hands in delight. ‘You’re all just in time for the final show.’ He turned to the woman standing by the gravestone. ‘Hel, dearest, would you be so kind as to deal with Arthur?’
    â€˜Of course, Father.’ She pointed a long, crooked finger at him.
    â€˜What are you doing?’ Arthur asked, taking a step back.
    â€˜Just erasing the mistake of your existence,’ she said nonchalantly.
    He turned to run for cover, but it was too late. Lightning shot out of her hand, slamming into his back. His friends rushed forward as green bolts of energy pulsed around him frantically.
    â€˜Arthur!’ cried Ash, reaching for his hand. He tried to grab hold of her but her hand didn’t seem to be solid and passed through his own. No – he realised with apprehension – it’s my hand that’s not solid! He looked down at the rest of his body and watched it fade as the pulses rushed through him.
    He looked up one last time into Ash’s face. Tears were spilling from her eyes.
    And with that, Arthur Quinn blinked out of existence.

Part Two

Chapter Seven

    In Asgard, the realm of the gods, there is a tree. Though at first glance it is just like any other tree, anyone who dares to look at it would know that this is not like any other tree. The branches – which once flourished with greenery and fruits and berries of every