A few people at the back of the group walk away. The huge man with the beard sees them leave and turns to Karl. There is kindness in his voice, as if he’s trying to understand. ‘Why shouldn’t we do this show tomorrow? What will happen if we do?’
Karl clears his throat then says in a loud voice, ‘Many years ago, before I was born, the circus was nearly destroyed. It happened shortly after my father became manager. There was a fire that destroyed the big top; nine performers lost their lives.’
Oskar tuts. ‘A terrible tragedy, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?’
Karl glares at him and continues, ‘It happened the first time they performed a myth with the Sly One. My father ruled that the circus would never perform his stories again and it’s been that way for ninety years. I’ve seen to it that nothing has changed.’ He jabs his black book in the air. ‘Until the owners demanded I introduce a new routine. Everyone loves the Sly One, they said, and so we did the myth of Baldur, and poor Nina . . .’
A ripple of unease goes through the crowd. Oskar snorts incredulously. ‘Because you did one of Loki’s stories, you think the circus is cursed?’
A German woman speaks up. ‘The day we began practising the myth of Baldur, people became different, their personalities changed. I’m not the only one to notice it.’
The crowd murmurs in agreement and Karl smiles with relief. ‘Yes! Klara is right, we shouldn’t have changed things.’
‘Dummkopf!’ shouts Oskar. ‘The myths are just stories – they don’t have some special power!’ He points at Karl. ‘You can’t keep doing the same old routines and expect visitors to come back year after year. If you don’t change, you die. Admit it, you hate change. You’re scared of it. You’ve been against this new performance from the start. How do we know you didn’t carve the marks in those trees?’ He sighs and addresses the crowd. ‘If you want to keep your jobs, then get back to work!’ He turns and strides towards the circus and half of the performers follow him. The rest watch him go, then trail after him reluctantly.
Standing alone, Karl makes such a dejected figure that my heart aches for him. What if he’s right and acting out Loki’s stories really has brought bad luck? Maybe Loki did have something to do with Nina’s death. All I know is that he sired three children – Hel, the wolf Fenrir and a sea serpent – and that they’re meant to destroy the gods at Ragnarok, the end of the world. Ruth told me that Loki caused the death of Baldur, but she didn’t say why he did it. I wish I knew more about the gods. I wish I knew more about everything.
I go over to Karl and ask, ‘Can I see your book, please?’
He hands it to me and I flick through pages of scrawled handwriting along with rune symbols and drawings of set layouts.
‘It lists the myths that can be performed and those which shouldn’t be done?’ I ask.
Karl nods then adds, ‘It was my father’s. He ran this place before me.’
Stig follows me and peers over my shoulder as I read a section entitled ‘Loki – Master of Manipulation’. At the top of the page is a black cross. Lots of myths are described: Loki Mothers Odin’s Horse Sleipnir, Loki Cuts off Sif’s Hair, Loki Invents the Fishing Net, Loki and the Kidnapping of Idun, Loki Is Refused an Invitation, Loki Bets His Head. I skim-read the stories. In many of them Loki appears to get the gods into trouble, then saves the day with his cunning.
I go back and read the last one, Loki Bets His Head.
No one loves a wager more than the Trickster. Having persuaded a pair of dwarves to create three fine treasures, Loki bets two others that they can’t make anything as good. If they can, he tells them, they are welcome to his head.
The dwarves set to work and create the boar Gullinbursti, the golden ring Draupnir and the hammer Mjolnir. Never one to play fair, Loki shapeshifts into a fly and repeatedly bites the dwarf manning the forge-bellows. Despite Loki’s best efforts to cheat, Freyr, Odin and Thor are so impressed with the dwarves’ craftsmanship they declare them the winners.
When the dwarves attempt to cut off Loki’s head, he tells them that they are welcome to it, as long as they don’t damage his neck in the process. Frustrated at being tricked, one of the dwarves sews Loki’s mouth shut.
I reread the last sentence and shiver. The man in the psychic tent . . . A sudden gust of wind turns the pages and I gasp to see a picture of an old-fashioned jester holding a net.
I hold out the book to Karl, my hand shaking. ‘Who’s that?’
He tuts as if the answer is obvious. ‘The Trickster. He can take any form, but that is one of his oldest guises.’
A cold feeling crawls across my skin as I realise that he’s here, at the circus. I’ve been so stupid! Of course the jester is Loki! And the man in the psychic tent, that was him too.
I look back at the book and there are four runes, the same ones carved into the trees. Next to each symbol is a letter. L-O-K-I.
‘Why didn’t you tell everyone what the runes mean?’ I ask.
‘They wouldn’t believe me.’ He glances about him and I have the feeling he’s just as afraid as the others, maybe even more. ‘Oskar is right; people will think I did this.’
‘I believe you, Karl. The old-fashioned clown I told you about, it was a jester. I’ve seen him – the Trickster. He’s here at the circus.’
Karl looks at me with disbelief.
‘What? You have to be joking.’ Stig laughs nervously.
Ignoring him, I point to the rune markings in the book. Beneath are written the words: If you want change, you have to invite chaos.
‘Wasn’t one of the myths called Loki Is Refused an Invitation?’ I ask.
Karl nods and I turn back a few pages and read aloud. ‘After he caused the death of Baldur, Loki was turned away from the hall of the gods. Angry, he forced his way inside, demanding a seat at the table as was his right as Odin’s blood brother.’
I glance at the old circus manager and he explains. ‘Odin mixed blood with him in a gesture of friendship – they aren’t related.’
‘So what does the Trickster do once he gets into the hall?’ asks Stig.
Karl sniffs. ‘He insults all the gods. After that he takes off and shapeshifts into a salmon, but Thor catches him. The gods later chain him to a rock where a snake drips venom on him. It’s foretold that he will stay there until he breaks free at Ragnarok, where he will cause chaos and carnage.’
Something shifts in the cave of my mind and bile floods my throat as the realisation hits me. The circus kept Loki out by not doing his stories. As soon as they performed one of his myths, Nina died. She was going to play Baldur, the god that Loki killed in the myth. It can’t be a coincidence; he must have had something to do with her death. And now the circus is going to do one of his biggest stories – Ragnarok, the end of the world.
Karl mutters in Norwegian then says, ‘They have to cancel the performance.’
He strides towards the clearing and I chase after him, with Stig following behind.
‘Martha, wait!’ Stig catches up with me. ‘What did you mean about Loki being here?’
I don’t answer and he grabs my arm and spins me around. ‘Tell me.’