“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.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Saturday Pancakes
Buzz yawned and rubbed at his eyes, which felt like they were full of grit. He reached for his phone to check the time but cursed as he noticed the bubble that blobbed wetly behind the dead screen. “Thanks a bunch, Theo,” Buzz said to the quiet room.
He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. His tired, sore eyes traced the painted constellations of stars that stretched above him.
His gaze lingered on the big dipper.
Some called it Odin’s Wagon.
The fact dropped like a pebble into a still pond, sending powerful ripples out.
He focused on the ceiling again, remembering when he’d painted it with Mum and Tia the day he turned six. They’d waited for the Prof to join them all day before starting, but he hadn’t come home from Tangley Woods. It was the day Buzz had started to hate mythology. The day he realized that his father’s obsession left no room for family.
Some called it Odin’s Wagon.
Newer memories of the dragon, Sunna, and Eleanor Bright slammed into him, chasing away the sad childhood reminiscence.
But were these memories just fantasy?
“Okay,” he said out loud. “Last night I saw a woman being kidnapped by a dragon. True or false?”
True, the voice in his head responded straightaway. You can even smell the dragon in your nose still—brimstone and mulch. It’s true. You just need to believe it.
“But what’s the real evidence?” Buzz shot back, and the voice in his head did not answer because it knew there were no witnesses other than him and Mary.
He swung his legs out of bed and rested his feet on the wooden floor, welcoming the coolness of the creaky planks. He held on to the sensation and forced himself to think logically. I hit my head yesterday. Hard. And I haven’t slept properly for weeks. His toes dug into the wood. “So maybe I made the whole thing up.” He nodded. “Maybe I did hallucinate about a dragon, a missing weatherwoman, and a Norse god with a grudge.” He dug his toes even deeper into the wood, the nails scratching the varnish. Mary had been talking about Loki just before they went into the woods. That’s why the name Loki was even in my head.
Buzz touched the gash at his temple, feeling the roughness of gauze and underneath it the contours of the scab that had formed overnight. The doctor who had dressed the wound the previous evening had told Buzz and the Prof not to worry. “It was quite a whack,” she said. “But I don’t think you need an overnight stay in the hospital. Just make sure you get rest and drink lots of water.”
Buzz snorted at the memory. The doctor might have kept him in if he’d told her about the dragon. But I didn’t, and neither did the Prof. After all, he doesn’t want it getting out that his son is just left of crazy.
Buzz’s stomach began to growl, and he realized he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. He sniffed the air and was greeted with the vanilla scent of pancakes. Mum always made pancakes on Saturdays, and Tia had demanded that their father keep up the tradition. No one argued with Tia, not even the Prof. And besides, one thing that Buzz and the Prof could agree on was the fact that no one wanted to eat Tia’s cooking, and if the Prof didn’t make pancakes, she would.
Buzz padded down the stairs and found his sister sitting at the breakfast bar tucking into a short stack covered in maple syrup and strawberries. She looked up at him briefly, her fire-hydrant-red hair a pop of color in the muted light of the autumn morning, and the sequins of her A-Team T-shirt twinkling cheekily. “You look horrendous, little bro. Was your Friday the thirteenth really that bad?”
Buzz’s eyes widened. “You don’t know what happened?”
Tia shook her head. “I was over at Marissa’s.”
With a clatter, the Prof placed a plate of pancakes on the counter. “Your brother got lost in Tangley Woods yesterday and tripped and hit his head.” His voice seemed too loud for the kitchen somehow. “Eat up while they’re still hot.” The Prof shot Buzz a look that was pretty easy to read. Do not tell Tia about yesterday.
His father strode back over to the stove and poured more batter into the pan from Mum’s favorite jug, the one with the tiny blue flowers. Buzz slid onto the barstool.
Tia leaned toward him, stripes of angry color shading her cheekbones. “That bandage on your head doesn’t have anything to do with Theo Eddows, does it?” she hissed.
Buzz shook his head.
“Do you promise? Because if that cretin touched you, he is in more trouble than he can ever possibly imagine, and I’ll—”
“Tia, Theo Eddows has nothing to do with it,” he hissed back. “And I really don’t need you to fight my battles.”
Tia crossed her arms. Her caramel skin flushed with anger. “From the state of you, I beg to differ.”
Buzz reached for the chocolate sauce on the table. “Prof told you, I got a bit lost and then tripped. End of story.”
Tia frowned as if she wasn’t sure whether to believe him. Buzz saw that furrowed brow a lot more than he used to. Tia was good at hiding her feelings, but he knew that she was missing Mum just as much as he was, and finding out that her little brother was quite possibly hallucinating about dragons and missing weatherwomen wouldn’t make her feel any better.
His sister’s lips became a thin line. “Where’s your head at, Buzz? You know those woods better than anyone—even him.” She jerked her head in the direction of their father. He was flipping pancakes with a measured and methodical movement, with none of the will-she-or-won’t-she drama that came from Mum’s attempts.
“I guess I wasn’t concentrating.” Tia was right: he did know the woods better than anyone. He’d grown up in those woods, knew every hiding place, and yet he had never seen that giant tree with its shimmering silver bark until yesterday.
His fingers tightened on the bottle of chocolate syrup as he realized that he must have imagined the tree as well. The whole thing—Eleanor, Sunna, the dragon, and the enchanted rope—was just a fantasy, like his father had said.
“Bro! It’s meant to be pancakes with chocolate, not chocolate with pancakes.”
Buzz gave a jolt and flipped the bottle up, chocolate sauce running over his fingers. “I got a bit carried away.” And in more ways than one. He cut into the pancakes and scooped up the pieces, enjoying the gooey mess in
his mouth. Pancakes at least made complete sense to him.
Tia shook her head. “You’re funny, you know that, Buzz?” Her eyes lit up. “Hey, did that girl Mary come and find you yesterday after school? She seems really nice.”
Buzz shook his head. Mary was the last person he wanted to talk about. His gaze traveled along the breakfast bar and rested on a newspaper that lay folded on the wooden surface. It was dated September 14, and although the face was folded in half, with just a pair of eyes visible, Buzz recognized Eleanor Bright instantly. Above her half face, the stark headline read, “Weatherwoman Mystery Deepens. Fog Over Disappearance Refuses to Lift.”
Buzz unfolded the newspaper, leaving a smear of chocolate sauce over Eleanor Bright’s beautiful face.
“Poor woman, I wonder what happened to her?” Tia said, even as Buzz skimmed the newspaper for any new information.
The shrill ring of the telephone made them both jump.
“I’ll get it.” Tia slipped down from her stool and bounded over to the phone.
“Hello, the Buzzard residence,” she said in her best telephone voice.
Tia was silent for a moment but then took in a sharp intake of breath. “Mum? Is that really you?”
Buzz and the Prof were by the phone in two strides.
“Mum, I can’t believe it.” Moisture crested at the corner of Tia’s eyes, and she took a gulping breath. “I’ve missed you, too.” She listened for a moment, a tear now tracking down her cheek. “Okay, I’ll pass you over.”
Tia handed the phone to the Prof, and Buzz felt a sting of annoyance that she hadn’t given the phone to him. He pushed the thought away. Mum’s alive! She’s alive! It was a joyful chorus in his head.
“Natasha, are you all right? Where have you been? We thought . . . well, you can imagine what we thought.” The Prof swallowed and Buzz could see that his hand was shaking on the receiver.
Buzz could hear his mother’s voice but not her words as the Prof listened intently.
“Natasha, the line is breaking up. Yes, of course, I’ll tell him. I lo—” He broke off and looked at the phone in frustration. “She’s gone.”
“Gone,” Buzz repeated. “But I didn’t get to speak to her.” He hated the whiny quality to his voice, but he couldn’t help it.
“I’m sorry,” the Prof said. “But it sounds like she had to move heaven and earth to make the call and the line was temperamental, to say the least.”
Buzz’s throat felt tight, but he nodded.
“Where’s she been?” Tia asked, not sounding whiny in the least.
“There was an electrical storm,” the Prof explained. “They were deep in the Amazon and their equipment got completely fried. She said they stumbled and tripped their way through the rain forest until they came across a tribe who helped them find an outpost.” Dad put the phone back in the stand with a click. “The good news is she’s flying out of the forest tomorrow. There’s a light aircraft that leaves every Sunday and she has a seat.” The Prof’s lips curved upward. Buzz couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his father smile. “Your mother is coming home.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dragon Boy
Buzz ran to the sports club for the semifinals of the Crowmarsh junior cup, the autumn sun making everything crackly with orange fire.
Tia had left for her Saturday job at the library, and Buzz had decided he needed to get out of the house as well. With a soccer game, at least, he knew what he was meant to do, and wouldn’t have to deal with the memories, imagined or not, of dragons and magic.
His head still throbbed a bit, but since the phone call from his mum he’d been feeling much better. He must have looked better as well because he’d somehow managed to convince the Prof that he was okay to play in the match. To be fair, his father had been distracted, as Tia had left him a really long list of chores to get the house looking good for Mum’s return.
Coach Saunders raised an eyebrow. “Good of you to turn up, Buzz. More than you managed yesterday.”
“Sorry about that, Coach,” Buzz said, remembering how worried he’d been that Coach wouldn’t play him in the match today. That all felt like a really long time ago now.
Coach tried to look stern, but a smile spread across his moonlike face, and he pulled out a piece of paper folded into four. “Luckily for you, I’ve got my game plan all set and you’re pretty integral.” He peered at the bandage on Buzz’s head. “You sure you’re okay to play?”
Buzz nodded. “I feel great, and we got some news.” He grinned. “My mum is coming home tomorrow.”
“That’s amazing!” Coach Saunders clapped a hand on Buzz’s shoulder. “Go and get your shoes laced up and let’s see if this day can get even better.”
It didn’t.
Buzz’s team lost 4–1. They wouldn’t be going through to the finals of the Crowmarsh junior cup.
Buzz muttered a word that he’d never say in front of an adult as Theo Eddows’s tall and solid figure walked over to him, achingly new sneakers flashing white on his feet. Theo’s swagger was even more pronounced than usual. But then he did score three of the four goals for his team. And I spent most of the match hemmed in and shut down. Buzz hated to admit it, but Theo’s team had done a great job of neutralizing them—so much for the coach’s grand game plan.
“How’s your head?” Theo asked. The soccer ball was balanced on his finger, a spinning blur of black and white.
Buzz frowned. Since when did Theo show any interest in anyone other than himself? “It’s fine, thanks.”
“How’d it happen?” Theo was watching him with a lazy smile.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t be shy. Go on, tell me.”
Buzz felt a prickle of annoyance. “I must have hit my head on your massive ego.”
“Hey, I was just making conversation.” The ball stopped spinning and Theo began to bounce it, the ball edging closer and closer to Buzz’s feet.
“Whatever.” Buzz slung his bag over his shoulder. “I get it. You’re mad that you had to go and get my phone from the Toilet of Doom. Maybe you shouldn’t have put it there in the first place.” He stepped forward but Theo blocked his way. Buzz curled his lip. “Or is it that you’re worried about Tia?” He snorted. “I guess you want me to call her off.”
The beat of the ball lost its steady rhythm for a moment, but Theo quickly got the ball under control. “I’m not scared of a girl.” His gray eyes said different.
“Sure you’re not,” Buzz replied. “But just in case, I’ve already told her I can fight my own battles.” He gave a little wave. “There you go, we’ve had a conversation and now it’s over. Bye-bye.” Buzz went to move again but Theo kept blocking his way, step for step.
“No, Freaky, we’ve still got plenty to say.” Theo’s ball sped up, the sound ricocheting around them until the thump of Buzz’s headache was back.
Buzz tipped his head to one side. “You want to gloat, is that it? I’ll save you the trouble. Your team had an answer for everything we tried to throw at you—well done. Have a great weekend, now.”
Theo’s lazy smile came back to play around his lips. “Thing is, it’s easy to win when you have all the information, Buzz.” He gave a low chuckle as he stared over at Coach Saunders, who was slinging a bag into his beat-up Ford Focus. Theo’s smile became a full-on smirk.
It’s easy to win when you have all the information. The words hung between them, and Buzz found himself looking over at Coach Saunders as well.
“You stole his game plan.” Buzz’s words were a whisper. “That’s how you knew. That’s how your whole team knew our moves before we even made them.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Theo couldn’t even be bothered to keep the lie from his voice.
Buzz shook his head in disgust. “You’re pathetic, you know that? How do you even stand yourself?”
Theo’s nostrils flared, and he stopped the ball dead. “You’ve got some cheek, Freaky. To my thinki
ng, pathetic is saying you saw a dragon in Tangley Woods. Pathetic is claiming that you found Eleanor Bright. But maybe that’s just me. We can ask everyone at school on Monday and see what they think.”
Ice crept up Buzz’s spine. “What’d you say?”
Theo gave a sharklike grin. “You heard.”
“Who told you that?” But even as he asked the question, Mary’s betrayal cut at him.
“Let’s just say that a little old birdy in a twinset and pearls mentioned it to my mum. Neighbors are just full of interesting little tidbits.”
Mary’s grandmother, Buzz realized, and for a crazy moment all he felt was relief that it hadn’t been Mary who’d told Theo about his delusions.
But the relief was fleeting. Theo was a bomb that needed to be defused.
“Listen, Theo, your mum must have misunderstood, or that old birdy did. It was just something stupid I said.” He spread his arms wide. “A joke that’s gone too far.”
Theo barked with laughter. “You’re the joke, Freaky. I’m just thinking of the best way to let everyone know it.” He winked at him. “Guess what? Now the conversation is over. Have a good weekend, Dragon Boy.” Theo walked off, ball tucked under his arm.
Buzz watched him go, his stomach churning like laundry on a fast cycle.
“Hey, mate.” Sam arrived at his side and raised an eyebrow. “You okay? You look a bit green.”
“Yeah.” Buzz swallowed. “I’m fine.”
“And I’m good at soccer.” Sam smiled ruefully. “There you go, now we’re both lying.”
Buzz smiled despite himself. Sam was good at lots of things, but soccer was not one of them. For a moment, Buzz thought about telling his best friend about the woods. But Sam wouldn’t believe it. And why should he? Buzz was pretty sure he didn’t believe it anymore. Besides, on Monday morning, Theo would be telling everyone about the adventures of Dragon Boy. I might as well enjoy my last weekend of being normal.
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“All right, mate, but whatever it is—it’ll sort itself out.” Sam clicked his fingers. “Hey, why don’t we take your phone to the repair shop? And then you can come over to my house to watch the game on TV. That’ll cheer you up.”
Secrets of Valhalla Page 5
