Free Arthur Quinn and Hell's Keeper by Alan Early

can’t,’ he said, turning to look out the window. ‘We haven’t a chance.’
    He watched the city speed past, blurring into rolling green countryside. There was so much to take in from what Fenrir had said that his mind was as confused as the view through the window, shooting from one rapid thought to another. My mum was dead. My mum is not dead. My mum is a half god called Hel. My mum is a stolen baby called Rhona. Fenrir won’t help. Loki has won. Loki can’t win. Loki must be stopped. But we can’t stop him. We’ll never stop him. There’s no one who can help us now. There’s no one who’ll believe us. Loki will win. Loki’s my … in a weird way, Loki’s my grandfather.
    Arthur had never known anything about his mother’s parents. All through his childhood he’d often visited his grandparents on Joe’s side of the family – and still did. But Rhona’s extended family had been a constant mystery. He and Joe knew that Rhona always became uncomfortable when they broached the subject and so they never really talked about it. When Arthur had asked his dad about them, Joe had explained that there hadn’t even been any of her relations at their wedding. Any time Joe had ever pushed her about her family, she had just simply shut down, staring into the middle distance with glassy eyes. She didn’t want to talk about it – that much was clear – and Joe, assuming that she’d had a traumatic childhood, eventually stopped asking. Now Arthur knew why she’d been so reticent. She would hardly have wanted to admit that she couldn’t remember her family at all, or maybe a part of her mind was simply trained not to think of them.
    The light in the sky was dimming, turning a gradient of oranges and reds. He looked down at the ribbon around his right wrist. Fenrir had called it ‘Gleipnir’. A creation of great power and dark magic, designed never to be destroyed or broken. The one thing that had kept Hel at bay all those years, the one thing that could hold the Fenris Wolf, the one thing that had done damage to Hel before. For the past year, he’d worn it around his own wrist, not realising what a great gift it was. Could it help her again, he wondered, touching the soft silk.
    â€˜How are you feeling?’ Ash, who was sitting beside him, asked softly. Ellie was squeezed at the far side of her, staring at a GPS map on her iPad, while Eirik was in the front with Ex, gazing with wonder at the vehicles speeding along the motorway.
    â€˜I won’t lie. I’ve been better,’ said Arthur.
    She reached over and took his hand away from the ribbon, intertwining her fingers through his to give it a reassuring squeeze. She held onto his hand as she spoke.
    â€˜I don’t know what to say, Arthur.’
    â€˜You don’t have to say anything.’
    â€˜But I want to.’ A single tear rolled down her cheek as she looked at him. She wanted to say something to comfort him, to put his mind at ease. She’d like to tell him that she was sure they’d stop Loki or that his mother would overpower the Hel part of her. She desperately wanted to whisper to him that, no matter what happened tonight, she’d be there for him because she cared for him. A lot. But none of the words would come. Instead, she told him a story.
    â€˜Before I started school,’ she began, speaking in a low voice so that none of the others would hear her, ‘we lived next door to this girl called Clare Pond. Clare was my age and we were best friends from the time we could walk. Anyway, Clare’s dad was a teacher in some posh private school so when we were old enough, she went there and I went to Belmont. After that, Clare didn’t talk to me any more, especially when she was with her new friends. I could hear them laughing at me when they thought I couldn’t. I was hurt and surprised and didn’t understand what