The Monstrous Child Read Online Free

arippling pool of blue-black water. If I cared about such things, I might have thought it was beautiful.
    We’d been dumped in the middle of a circle of newly carved, ivory-white thrones, one High Seat much larger and greater than the others. The gathering gods wore soft clothes in purples and mauves and blues. I felt hot and ugly in my long bearskin, like an animal. I was dazzled by so much colour, so much light. I couldn’t believe where I was, a guest of these glittering beings who stalked about like a herd of shining beasts.
    Jor was still thrashing and hissing in his sack, venom dribbling. Fen was rolling in the grass, waving his paws. I was sitting, huddled, hiding my legs.
    I didn’t understand what was happening. The gods have strange ideas of hospitality , I thought. Since when do you bundle visitors into sacks, then drop them on their heads like carcasses instead of leading them to a place of honour, offering warm water, towels, food and drink?
    All around me, the gods took their seats. I recognisedsome. Who wouldn’t know Thor, red-bearded, built like a volcano, swinging his hammer over his shoulder and glaring at us from his throne? And a beautiful goddess with tumbling hair like spun flax, holding her nose, eyes as bright as dragon fire, fiddling with the necklace of twisted gold that gleamed on her white neck. That was Freyja. And another, Idunn, the keeper of the gods’ immortal youth, clutching her basket of golden apples, pressing a cloth to her face as she gagged at my stench.
    The one I didn’t see anywhere in the throng was Loki, father of lies, father of us. I was surprised – he’d gone to so much trouble to snatch us, you’d think the least he would do is show up. Had he already changed his mind?
    Children, some older, some younger than me, hid behind their parents’ thrones, the bolder ones peeking out to point. Others approached Fen, daring to get too close till their parents yanked them back.
    Why did Loki’s children merit such a gathering?
    Little Hnoss, Freyja’s radiant, honeyed girl, pretty face, pretty feet, pretty everything that I am not, screamedwhen she saw us. Hnoss, with her nose in the air. ‘What’s it doing here?’ she screeched, till Freyja jerked her eyes at her husband, who snatched the squalling brat up in his arms and carried her off, wailing.
    ‘It stinks!’ she shrieked. ‘Make it go away.’
    It’s not my fault I smell, you sow’s daughter. I was born like this.
    I want to curl up, hide, vanish.
    Jor thrashed and writhed in his sack, tearing at the hemp with his fangs, spitting poison. The seated gods shuddered. A few of the children screamed.
    I glanced at Fen. He was shaking himself out, pretending to be a playful cub. Fenrir was more vicious than Jor – he just looked more cuddly.
    ‘Loki’s monsters,’ I heard someone mutter. They scowled at us, stiff with dislike. You’d think we’d gatecrashed a party instead of being dragged here in a bag.
    I reminded myself I was an immortal goddess, as much as them.
    I looked around the assembled gods once more. Could Loki be hiding, waiting to leap out and yell, ‘Boo!!’? Because Dad loved practical jokes. Did you know he once sneaked into Thor’s wife’s bedroom, lopped off her rippling gold hair while she snored and left her bald? I remembered him telling Mum about it and both of them hooting with laughter.
    Ha ha. Not.
    Deformity fails to amuse me. Actually, to be fair, nothing amuses me. But I digress.
    Nope, no Dad. And then it occurred to me that perhaps he had nothing to do with bringing us here.
    I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid.
    Were we being judged at a gods’ council? But judged for what?
    The assembled gods fell silent as an immortal, bristling with majesty, strode into the circle of thrones. He wore a broad-brimmed blue hat, his boiling single eye fixed on us. I knew this must be Odin, the One-Eyed King of the Gods, Dad’s blood brother. TheWizard King, Spear God, Battle Wolf,