The Ritual

mortal danger, but then enclosed in a stinking bed in an airless room in an old house, and left unaware of the location of the house. A person needs
to know at least that to feel comfortable; needs to know where they are in the world. Ever since Hutch decided on taking the short cut, he was finished with not knowing precisely where he was.
‘Fuck you, H.’
    But when you have taken a person into your care, and you feed them, shelter them, but do not attend to what could be a serious head injury, and Sweden is a modern country with emergency
services, hospitals, even helicopters when required, then . . .
    Luke pulled his dirty fingers down his wet face, utterly confounded by the absurdity and the impossibility of the situation.
    They would tell him nothing. Fenris evaded his questions. No useful information would be forthcoming from his hosts; he sensed that much. He was being kept here against his will. So escape
should be his only focus. Because the masks, the music, the screaming, the fire down there in the dark grass: it was all leading to a terrible conclusion.
    He’d tried not to think about that thing in the woods, of what killed his friends. Until now he had been too ill and hurt and tired to do so. But his dealings with it were not over. Of
that he was certain.
    They were here for it too. Blood Frenzy. And they had revealed their identities through the silly demoniac names that could be easily traced through the P.O. Box in Oslo and the name of
the record company. And if there was any truth to Fenris’s bragging, about what they had been up to, then his release from here was not imminent. They were on the run.
    He thought of the freaky old woman. Wondered about her.
    Slow heavy feet boomed up the stairs. Broke his thoughts apart and into a rout.
    He tensed. Looked about for a weapon. The jug was still in the room, on its side, intact; incredibly intact. And the bucket. He went for the jug, gripped its worn handle. Images of
Fenris’s curved knife came into his mind and he shivered. He could not stop the shivers, or the trembling that took hold of his jaw.
    ‘Luke? It is Loki.’ No attempt was made by Loki to enter the room.
    They were wary of him now. That’s good. Wary is good. They are just kids anyway. Fenris is a bull-shitter, a big mouth. They haven’t killed anyone.
    Luke stood a few feet from the door and gave himself enough room to swing the jug. ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Good, you are listening.’
    ‘All ears.’
    ‘Of this I am very pleased, Luke. Because you need to listen very good. Yes?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Tonight, you make a big mistake.’
    ‘I do?’
    ‘Yes you do, my friend, you do.’
    ‘He came at me with a knife. What am I supposed to do?’
    ‘If he wanted to kill you Luke, you would already be dead. You understand?’
    ‘Not really.’
    Loki sighed. ‘Fenris has killed before. To him, killing is nothing. You see?’
    Luke felt his skin go cold. Heat seemed to be draining away from his body through his own feet.
    By an act of will, he forced the implications of what Loki had just said from his mind, and in much the same way that he had censored the vision of his knife-ruined flesh before. He had to keep
holding himself all together or it was over. ‘When it is me he threatens, it means something to me, Loki. You understand that?’
    ‘He was not going to hurt you. He like you. Is glad you are here with us. He gets bored with me and Surtr. You see, me and Surtr are together and Fenris is the one left out.
Yes?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘But now you have no friends here, Luke. You messed it up.’
    ‘He was no friend, Loki. And I’m no fool.’
    Loki guffawed. ‘I never said you were, Luke. You want to survive. You fight. You are not weak. And I respect that. You are special. Which is why you survive and your friends die. Yes?
Fenris was foolish to take his eye off you, that is all. But he learn a valuable lesson. I would prefer him not to know this lesson again, because now I have work to do. To be the peacemaker,
yes?’
    Luke stayed quiet. He found himself desperately trying not to like Loki.
    ‘Are you still with me, Luke?’
    ‘Yes!’
    ‘Good. But please you are guest, so do not shout. OK?’
    ‘OK.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘My friends, Loki. Did you kill my friends?’
    ‘No we did not, Luke. I cannot tell you precisely what happened to them, but soon I wish to find out—’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Luke! It is I who is speaking. So listen to me. Now you must