"Unconfirmed reports are coming in of a massive nuclear blast in the Middle East. With communications being disrupted, worldwide, by the spate of catastrophes, it is unknown whether this is nuclear attack between nations, or the meltdown of a nuclear power facility.

Reports state that the blast had the strength of a small nuclear weapon, but until confirmation is made no-one can be certain who, or what, is the cause. Further bulletins will follow as the the UK watches with great concern about the possible escalation of hostilities beyond conventional warfare."

-+-

14

By the time Runa had made her decision and dressed the children, McAreavey had moved his quad bike outside the door to the cottage. Only days ago, she had told her children to stay within the cottage, now she couldn't believe what she intended doing. Putting her children's lives at risk. If she had judged the situation correctly, however, sitting within the cottage would hold as much risk. If not more.

She knelt before them both, holding an arm of each of them. They wore their thickest coats and hats. Dark colours that she hoped would hide them as she sent them out into the storm. She trusted them both to do exactly as she told them and, she couldn't believe she thought it, she had to trust someone else, something else, to keep them safe.

"Mummy, I don't understand." Stigr rubbed his forehead, dislodging the hat and leaving it tilted on his head. "You said we weren't supposed to go out. Especially to see Big Dog."

"I know what I said, but this is important." She zipped up his coat and readjusted his hat. She could see confusion on both their faces. "Things have changed and, sometimes, you have to change, too. I don't want you going out there alone, I don't, but I don't think I can protect you. Not right now. Fenrir, Big Dog, can."

"Don't worry, mummy." Hertha placed a gloved hand on Runa's shoulder. She looked so mature. "I'll make sure we get there. What will you do?"

Runa didn't want to answer that. She gave them both a tight smile and then couldn't stop herself. She pulled them both towards her and hugged them tight, pressing her head against theirs. She felt tears appearing in her eyes and didn't want them to see her fear. Fear for them and herself. After a few seconds, she pulled away and turned them around, pushing them towards the kitchen and the back door.

"Remember! Don't go out until you can't hear Mr McAreavey's quad bike anymore. Not before!" She turned as McAreavey opened the front door, giving her a nod. "And ... and when you go, try to move between things you can hide behind. Go straight to the cave and tell Fenrir ... tell Big Dog what I told you."

Hertha gripped her brother's gloved hand in hers and she nodded before heading towards the back door. There were a few places they could hide along the way. Numerous small, old stone-built buildings they could use as cover. Until they reached the beach. There was no cover all the way to the cave after that.

If Runa had read the situation correctly, the children shouldn't need to hide when they reached the beach. Those three men, those gods, were looking for Fenrir and Runa planned on making them believe that she and McAreavey were racing towards where the god-wolf hid. It was all such a great risk, but she didn't doubt that the men, the gods, would soon return in their boat, anyway. And, when they did, she doubted they would care if the children got in the way.

She steeled herself, taking a deep breath. McAreavey looked sad. Not worried. Not concerned, as such, but sad. Runa could understand that. He seemed to like the children, even after catching Stigr calling him 'old Mutton Chops', causing the farmer to laugh, his whiskers quivering. He knew, though, how terrible a burden it was for a mother to send her children into danger.

"I'm ready as I'll ever be, lassie, and the storm has lulled, if only a mite." He still held his shotgun, broken open over the crease of his arm, and pushed the door further open for Runa to step outside. "They'll be fine. Good bairns. Fine and strong, like their mother."

"I hope so." She closed the door behind them, making a show of locking it tight.

She tried not to glance towards the boat, bobbing upon low waves as huge ones crashed beyond the invisible barrier of calm. She had to trust that the gods could see them. Hopping on to the rear of the quad bike, she accepted the shotgun from McAreavey as he sat astride it and then fired up the engine. It rumbled and roared as the farmer twisted the throttle, making it louder than usual.

Up above, those two ravens, Huginn and Muninn, peeled away from circling above and around the cottage and wheeled towards the quad bike. At least that had happened as Runa expected. She felt the cold metal of the shotgun in her hands, but it wasn't time for that. She tapped McAreavey on the shoulder and the old farmer loosed the clutch, sending them jerking forward, the engine almost screaming as McAreavey over-revved it.

They headed north and slightly east, crossing the heather and bracken covered heathland that undulated away before them. She hadn't had time to give the island a good tour, things had happened so fast, she had bare enough time to unpack, but she could see why this area wasn't fit for most farming. Dips and troughs made the quad bike bounce and launch into the air. Stones, large and small, would appear from nowhere, their moss-covered surfaces almost invisible against the landscape.

McAreavey navigated it all as Runa expected of a man that had called this island home for so long. He pushed the quad to its limits, jerking it to the side to avoid larger obstacles, bouncing it out of trenches. All the while, he headed towards one spot, off to the east from where the wind turbines stood upon their hill. A place McAreavey assured her had caves. Real caves that the three gods could not have missed.

"Are them damned crows still about?" He shouted back, over his shoulder and then cursed as a wheel struck a hidden stone. "That's a new one. Probably. Damned island, throwing up rocks everywhere. I swear, the rocks breed out here."

"They're still with us." She tried not to move her head to look, but, in the corner of her eye, she saw those black wings flapping. "We should sell them. The rocks. Breeding pairs, or make pedigree certificates. We'd make millions."

It felt good to have a little levity, and McAreavey's back shook as he laughed, but Runa could only think of Hertha and Stigr. If she laughed, too, it would feel obscene as her children ran into danger. Ran towards a raging sea and a wolf-god that Runa didn't know whether he were friend or foe. He hid from Odin and Thor and the other one and, after what Thor had done to McAreavey, she trusted the wolf more.

The northern edge of the island began to get closer and soon they had skirted the base of the hill with the turbines, larger than she had guessed from her vantage point at the south of the island, and now headed to a small cleft in the face of the cliffs on this end of the land. A cleft that sloped down at a steep angle to a thin, pebble covered beach below.

McAreavey switched off the engine of the quad bike and dismounted. The first thing he did was to take the shotgun from Runa's arms. That felt better. She didn't even like the idea of guns, let alone living on an island with one, or holding one in her hands, but she trusted McAreavey. He knew what he was doing with the weapon and they would need his expertise soon.

The pebbles crunched under foot as they ran along the beach, heading towards a cave McAreavey had said could at least look like the hiding place of a wolf, so long as it didn't mind a little squeeze. Runa knew, however, as she expected the three gods to know, that Fenrir could make the cave fit.

"Just say when, lassie." As they ran, McAreavey snapped the shotgun closed. "If we reach that cave and yon crows see it's empty, we'll have done this for nothing. That's if those birds are watching us."

"They're watching. Get ready." She took a second to set her features in a look of fear. It had to look good if Odin did see through the ravens' eyes. She looked over her shoulder and caught sight of the birds dipping towards them. "Steady. Steady. Now!"

She dived to the side, covering her ears and face with her hands and arms, crouching and turning away. She saw McAreavey spin and raise the shotgun before she clenched her eyes closed and then she heard the tremendous sound of the shotgun firing. Once, then again a second later. She'd never heard gunshots in real life and tv and movies did not do the noise justice. She uncurled herself.

"It's done, lassie." He almost sounded amused. "Got the wee buggers. If I can shoot rabbits bouncing around through heather, a couple of big, black birds don't stand a chance."

She watched as McAreavey broke the shotgun again, tugging the empty cartridges from the smoking barrel, putting them into his pocket and taking new ones from his pouch. He slid the new cartridges into the barrels and then rested the gun over his arm.

At his feet, Runa could see the bodies of the two ravens. The shotgun pellets had ravaged both birds and their wings lay flat upon the pebbles of the beach, their blood washed away by the still pounding rain, into the sea. Runa almost felt sorry for the birds, but she couldn't have them relaying every little thing they did back to Odin and the others.

Then, the skies exploded with even greater fury. Several lightning strikes smashed into the ground around and above them, in quick succession. The wind began to spiral around with more strength than ever before and the rain poured down as though a million buckets had upended above them. They both scrambled towards the cave that they hadn't wanted the ravens to see and huddled against the wall as the storm blacked out everything outside.

"I think we've got their attention." She flinched as a dozen more lightning bolts sent pebbles and sods of earth flying. Now they had to wait and hope the children had managed to reach Fenrir.