Secrets of Valhalla (4 page)

Mary stood on her tiptoes and reached for Sunna. “Take my hand,” she yelled.

Buzz reached up as well.

But it was too late. The tail slammed to the ground and dragged Sunna along the forest floor.

“The World Tree will help you.” Sunna's voice echoed around them even as she disappeared into the chasm.

T
he forest was quiet.

The ground had closed up.

Sunna was gone.

Buzz dropped to his knees and clawed at the dirt. Mary joined him, digging furiously. But the churned-up ground revealed nothing. The gaping wound that had spewed the dragon out of the earth hadn't even left a scar.

“Sunna!” Buzz cried. “Sunna, can you hear me?” His voice sounded thin and wobbly.

“It's too late, Buzz. She's gone.” Mary sat back on her heels, two golden fragments in her hand. It was Eleanor's lightning-shaped pendant, snapped in half.

“But she was right here,” Buzz said. “Why didn't she take your hand? Or mine?”

“Because she wanted us to stay safe. To find the runes and these day guardians.”

Buzz stood up. “We've got to get help.” He nodded to himself. “We'll call the police or something.”

Mary rose to her feet, cradling her injured hand close to her body. “What are the police going to do?”

“They can get diggers. They'll dig down until they find her.”

“But Sunna said Nidhogg lived in one of the underworld realms. Somehow, I don't think diggers are going to be able to reach her. We're talking magical realms here.” Mary dropped one half of the pendant into her pocket and gave the other half to Buzz, who put it in his bag. “Besides, who's going to believe us? They'll think we're lying, or worse . . . c-c-crazy.” She only just managed to stutter out the last word.

“But we've got to do something.” Buzz reached into his pocket and took out his phone. It squelched in his hand, and immediately he remembered the little swim his phone had taken earlier today thanks to Theo Eddows.

“Mary, give me your phone.”

Mary held up her watch. “I used it for parts, remember?”

“Okay, we're not far from my house. We'll call the police from there,” Buzz reasoned.

“There's no point.” Mary crossed her arms. “The police aren't the answer. We need to stop Loki and get the runes ourselves. Sunna said the tree would help us. The World Tree, she called it.” Mary looked up at the tree as if the answer might lie
right there in the branches.

Buzz raked a hand through his hair. Neither he nor Mary were gods. How on earth did she think they could go up against Loki? They needed help. “I'll ask my uncle Mark,” Buzz said, hardly believing he hadn't thought of him straightaway. “He'll know what to do. He's an inspector in the police force.”

Mary shook her head. “Sunna said the tree would help. I'm staying here.”

“No, you're not.” Buzz's head felt like it was caught in a vise, and the feeling of nausea would not pass. “Loki could be back any minute.”

Mary's face fell. “Good point,” she said. “Okay, I'll go home and see what I can find out about the tree when it comes to Norse mythology. It might give us a lead.”

“Fine,” Buzz said. “Let's just get out of here.”

They ran through the woods in silence. Buzz guessed that seeing a woman kidnapped by a dragon was enough to make even Mary quiet.

Her watch began to beep. “Turn left for Glover Drive,” it said in its robotic voice.

“This is me,” Mary said. “I'll see you this evening, right? I live at number fifteen. We'll think of a way to save Sunna, I promise.”

Mary tore off into the trees before Buzz could say a word.

“I need to get help.
I need to get help.”
Buzz repeated the words until they became a chant. He raced up the long path that led to his house. The red of his front door was almost
maroon in the light of dusk. Seeing his dad's car outside, Buzz felt a surprising wave of relief.

He was the son of a mythologist. If anyone was going to believe him, help him get Sunna back, the Prof would.

Buzz threw open the door, and his father immediately strode out of the office, a stack of essays clutched in his hand. “You know you should call if you're going to be late,” the Prof began, but he stopped as he got a good look at Buzz. “What on earth has happened to you? You're bleeding.”

“In the woods. We found her.”

“Who, your mother?” The essays slipped from the Prof's grip and fluttered to the floor. “How . . . how can that be? Where?”

“No,” Buzz said, his rib cage suddenly too tight around his lungs. “We found Eleanor Bright.”

“The weatherwoman?” The frown lines in his father's forehead were deep ravines.

Buzz nodded, the action causing the pain in his head to pound even more violently. “But she wasn't really Eleanor, she was a goddess. Her name was Sunna and she was tied to a tree with an enchanted rope. We tried to free her but now a dragon has taken her prisoner. Taken her to another realm deep underground.” He took a gulping breath. “Prof. We've got to help her.”

His father stared at him hard before lifting a hand to gently sweep aside the curls on Buzz's forehead.

Buzz felt his breath catch—it was not like the Prof to
smooth his hair away like this. It was something that his mum always did, especially when Buzz was upset.

“Enough of this nonsense, Buzz. How did you get this cut on your head?” his father asked suspiciously.

“It must have happened when the dragon dropped me.” Buzz swallowed his disappointment. His father hadn't believed a word he said. That was clear. Why had he thought, even for a moment, that he would?

The Prof reached for his coat where it hung from one of the pegs in the hall. “We're going to the hospital.” He put a hand on Buzz's shoulder to steer him through the door.

Buzz jerked away, the sudden movement making the dull thumping behind his eyes become a pounding hammer. “I know it sounds crazy, but it's all true, Prof. I promise. A dragon came—it was called Nidhogg.” Buzz could still smell the acrid smoke that had come with the dragon, and it made his eyes water. “Loki summoned it.”

The Prof pinched the bridge of his nose. “Loki and Nidhogg are just stories, myths. You've hurt yourself, you're not making sense, and it is my duty to make sure you are taken care of.”

Duty.
The word sounded so cold, but Buzz knew that now was not the time for hurt feelings. “Prof, just listen to me, please.”

“Fine.” Buzz's father pulled on his coat. “Tell me from the beginning and then we're going to the hospital.”

So Buzz did. He told his father about Mary and the tree, the enchanted rope, and how Sunna and Eleanor were the
same person. He told him about the Runes of Valhalla and the day guardians and how the ground opened up and spat out a dragon. “Then he took her and they were swallowed up by the earth.” Buzz rubbed at his arms, feeling cold and shaky. “Don't you see? We need to do something.
Right now
.”

His father stooped down to pick up the fallen essays from the floor, his face hidden from sight. “Buzz, you're right. We do need to get some help.”

Buzz heaved a sigh of relief. “So what d'you think we should do? Call the police, right? I thought Uncle Mark might be the best perso—”

“Hang on.” Buzz's father was on his feet. “I've listened to you, and now you need to listen to me. You've hit your head. You've been under a lot of pressure with your mother gone. You're hardly sleeping.”

“How'd you know about that?” Buzz felt a flash of rage. “You spying on me now?”

“I hear you at night—so does your sister. I should have said something sooner. It's clear you need help. I was wrong for not recognizing that you were at the breaking point.”

“Breaking point?” Buzz felt heat climbing up his chest and his neck. “You don't know anything about me. What would you know about my breaking point?”

“Buzz, I'm not your enemy and I do not appreciate that tone. I'm simply saying that maybe we need some professional guidance about how to deal with the vividness of your imagination and—”

“I'm going to call Uncle Mark,” Buzz said, cutting his father off. He suddenly felt incredibly tired. “He'll believe me, and more important, he'll know what to do.”

“Wait—”

But Buzz was already at the phone and hitting number six on the speed dial.

“Hello, Crowmarsh Police Station,” a kind voice said at the other end of the line.

“Hello, can I speak to Inspector Mark Tyler?”

“And who should I say is calling?”

“Buzz, I mean Freddie Buzzard—his godson.”

“S
o let me make sure I understand you correctly,” Uncle Mark said. “You saw Eleanor Bright?”

Buzz nodded, trying to ignore his father, who was glaring at him from his chair in the corner. “Yes, I told you. She was tied to a tree in the middle of the woods.”

Uncle Mark jotted down something in the small notepad in his hand. “And then a dragon came, took her away, and is now keeping her prisoner in another realm, deep underground?”

“Yes,” Buzz insisted.

“Anything else?” he asked. “You mentioned these rune things a couple of times. They sound important.”

“I think they are, but finding Eleanor and Sunna is more important.”

Uncle Mark folded his hands over the notebook and gazed at Buzz. “So, what do you think our next steps should be?”

Buzz stared straight back at him. “I don't know, you're the policeman, Uncle Mark.” He tried to keep his voice level, but it trembled. “You find missing people. Find her.”

“Hey, buddy, it's going to be all right.” His godfather's voice was gruff, a little deeper than usual. “We're going to get this sorted. If you say you saw Eleanor Bright, then I believe you. I will get my team to do a sweep of the woods. First things first, we need to find that tree you were talking about.”

“This is a farce.” Buzz's father exploded from his chair. “I let him call you because I thought you might be able to talk some sense into him, but you're just encouraging this madness.”

“I'm not mad,” Buzz growled.

“Well, you're certainly injured and sleep deprived,” the Prof growled back. “The facts are plain. You are not in possession of your faculties.”

“Hey, go easy on him, Frederick.” Uncle Mark held up a calming hand. “Buzz is a good kid. If he says he saw Eleanor, then he saw Eleanor.”

The Prof began to pace. “He also says he saw a dragon.”

Mark's brow wrinkled. “Yes, there is that, but as strange as it might sound, I will investigate it.” He pursed his lips. “Natasha would ask me to do the same if she was here.”

The Prof whirled on Uncle Mark. “Don't you dare tell me what my wife would say about my son.” His normally calm
voice was ragged, but he took a deep breath before facing Buzz. “I know you don't want to hear it, Buzz, but this whole episode with Eleanor and that dragon is in your head.” He took a step forward. “Think about it. Your mother is missing. So is Eleanor Bright. If Eleanor is found, then maybe Mum will be as well. You don't think I want that?”

Buzz couldn't look at him. “You don't talk about it. You don't talk about her.”

“Buzz, I'm doing the best that I can.” The Prof's voice was low. “But this fantasy needs to stop here before you get yourself into trouble. I'm your father and it's—”

“It's your duty to look after me.” Buzz finished the sentence for him. “Yes, you keep saying.”

The Prof frowned. “It is a duty that I take very seriously, Buzz. I'm going to keep you safe.”

“As will I.” Uncle Mark crossed his arms. “I am your best friend, Frederick. Have been ever since that day in the orphanage at the convent when you translated that Latin motto for me so I wouldn't get in trouble.” He gazed at the Prof. “Remember that?
Faber est quisque fortunae suae
: Every man is architect of his own fortune.” He nodded his head at the memory. “Then you gave me your sandwich because you thought I needed it more.” Uncle Mark's open and honest face was filled with concern. “You're the only family I've got, and I won't let Buzz come to any harm. I'll sort this all out.” He smiled encouragingly at Buzz. “Where does this Mary girl live? I need to hear her side of things so that I can get a full picture of events.”

Buzz's fingers tunneled a path through his hair. “Fifteen Glover Drive,” he said. “She's there with her grandmother.”

“Let's go, then,” Uncle Mark said.

The Prof nodded. “I'll get my coat.”

“Why are you coming?” Buzz didn't even bother to look at the Prof. “It's not like you believe me anyway.”

“Buzz, that's not fair.”

“Stay here, Frederick.” Uncle Mark's voice was soothing. “I'll bring Buzz back safe and sound. I promise.”

“No, Inspector, I didn't see a dragon,” Mary said. “And I didn't see Eleanor Bright.”

“Are you sure?” Uncle Mark pressed.

Mary stared at the flames in the ancient wood burner that sat on the flagstone hearth. “I'm sure.”

“Mary?” Buzz whispered. Her name was a croaked-out question, just loud enough to be heard over the spit and crackle of the fiery logs in the burner. Buzz tried to catch her gaze but it remained fixed on the flames in front of her.

“Just to clarify: You were in the woods today with Buzz?” Uncle Mark asked.

“Yes,” Mary replied. “But this thing with the dragon and Eleanor Bright? It just didn't happen. I'm sorry.” Mary met Buzz's eyes for a moment, but then she crossed her arms and looked away.

“I think, Inspector, that this young man has wasted enough of our time,” Mary's grandmother declared, standing
up from the faded couch. “I expect that concludes the questioning?”

Uncle Mark nodded and placed a hand on Buzz's shoulder. “Thank you for your time. Come on, buddy. Let's get you home.”

Buzz threw off the hand and took a step toward Mary. “Why are you lying?”

Mary hung her head. “Buzz, whatever you think to be true—it isn't. I'm sorry.”

Whatever you think to be true—it isn't.
He repeated the words to himself and he felt the fabric of his memories rip. Buzz put a hand to his injured temple and found the spot of waxy soreness
. Had he really imagined the whole thing with Eleanor Bright? Was that really possible?
His eyes raked over Mary and rested on her right hand, which was wrapped in a bandage.

“How'd you hurt your hand?”

Mary gave a start but paused for only a second. “We were trying to build a fire, remember?”

Buzz shook his head.

“That's how you hurt yourself,” Mary continued. “A fragment chipped off the rock we were using as a flint and you were knocked out cold. I was trying to wake you up and that's when the fire got out of control.” She studied her bandage. “I hurt my hand trying to put the blaze out.”

“And how about the lightning bolt pendant?”

“Pendant?” Mary repeated.

Buzz reached into his bag and pulled out his half of the
lightning bolt. “You have the other half of this.”

Mary shook her head. “No, I don't, but I was there when you found that. It's just a bit of scrap metal. I told you that at the time.”

“I see.” But in truth, he didn't. He just wanted to get home. He turned to Uncle Mark. “I'm ready to go now.”

“Then let's go, buddy.”

“Inspector, don't you think you should get the boy to the hospital?” Mary's grandmother peered over her half-moon glasses at him. “He's clearly not . . . well.” She gave a strained laugh. “He thought he saw a dragon.”

“Buzz is going to be just fine.” Uncle Mark tucked his notepad away. “But I will pass on your concern to his father.” He nodded his head. “Thanks again for your time.”

With a gentle pressure at his back, Buzz was steered to the front door by his godfather. He focused on his steps. A pattern of movement that made sense when nothing else did.

He heard the slap of hasty footsteps behind him, and then Mary was at his side. Uncle Mark had reached to open the door, but Mary placed her hand on the wood to keep it closed. “Buzz,” she said softly. “Come and find me, okay? We're still friends.”

Buzz stared straight ahead at the door and did not respond. Either he was losing his mind or she was lying about what had happened in the woods. Both scenarios meant that he should stay well away from her. “I only met you today,” he said. “And you're telling me I imagined half of
it. That doesn't make us friends, does it?”

“Buzz.” Her voice was urgent. “Please, I—”

A tutting sound came from behind them. “I don't think you'll be seeing this young man again, dear,” Mary's grandmother said. “I fear he has a rather overactive imagination, and we don't want that rubbing off on you. You've been doing so well lately, Amaryllis, and we wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize that, would we?”

“No, Grandmother.”

“So best for this to be a final and proper good-bye.”

“Yes, Grandmother.” Buzz heard Mary swallow hard. “Bye, Buzz.”

Buzz took his eyes off the door and looked at Mary. Her eyes glittered with anger or tears, he couldn't tell which, but he felt too numb to care. “Good-bye.”

Uncle Mark opened the front door, and they stepped into the night. His godfather quickly checked his phone, his face impassive as he looked at the screen.

The drive back to Buzz's house was quiet except for the low hum of the engine, which itself faded away as they pulled up in front of the red door.

Red, just like my lucky underpants
,
Buzz thought.
The luckiest color there is. What a joke.

“Buzz, you should know that I've had an expert squad combing Tangley Woods for the last hour or so.” Uncle Mark's face looked yellow and mottled under the harsh street lamps. “All off the record, of course.” He frowned, deep lines wrinkling
his forehead. “My squad members do not feel the need to ask questions. They are looking as a favor to me. But they texted me to say there is no sign of this tree you were talking about.” His fingers splayed across the steering wheel. “It doesn't exist.”

Buzz opened his mouth, ready to say that there must be some mistake, but all words seemed to have emptied from his brain. He just nodded instead.

“Buddy, you need to get yourself some rest.” The furrows in Uncle Mark's brow got deeper. “It's Saturday tomorrow. Have yourself a lie-in. And go easy on your dad, okay? He's doing the best he can.” Uncle Mark squeezed Buzz's shoulder reassuringly. His hand was warm.

Buzz's only reply was to open the car door and walk back toward the house, the whole time wishing he was about to face a dragon instead of his father.