Valkyrie Rising

by Ingrid Paulson

  Tuck sighed and relaxed his arms. I finally uncurled my fingers from the railing. They ached with the strain of holding on so tight.

  “Do you think they put out the fire?” I asked.

  “I’m guessing we’d know by now if they hadn’t,” he murmured. “But why don’t we stay here a sec? They got the engine working, which is a good sign, but it could be rock-and-roll time again if it stalls.”

  “Okay.” I glanced up at him, and he smiled. Suddenly my situation hit me with an almost tangible force. Tucker Halloway was standing mere inches away from me, his legs tangled with mine. His forearms pressed against my waist. And even though it was all in the name of safety, for some perverse reason, I wanted to stay that way a little bit longer.

  As if he sensed my thoughts, his smile widened. “This is strictly business, Ells,” he said with a wink as one hand released the railing and found its way up my back. “Try not to enjoy it so much.”

  Leave it to Tuck to say something shocking and arrogant at a moment like that.

  “Then again … I am.”

  My eyes flew to his face, but he was already turned away, looking out toward the water. He was concentrating hard, like he was listening to something in the distance. But his eyes shifted back just in time to catch me watching his profile and wondering if there was a single angle or plane that wasn’t textbook perfect.

  I said the first thing that popped into my head. “Do you think Graham is okay?”

  “Of course he is.” Tuck’s faint smile was inches from mine. His head tipped to the side, just enough that if he kissed me, our noses wouldn’t get in the way. It was a ridiculous thought, but really, I couldn’t help it when he was looking at me like that.

  “Graham is always okay—you know that,” he said softly. “He’s half Superman, half Double-Oh-Seven. Just think what a great story this’ll be.” He pulled his face back a few inches, restoring my ability to breathe. The teasing smile I knew all too well was back. “Only, do you care if I spice it up? Maybe add in a squall?”

  “I could still fall overboard. And you could jump in after me. Really give them something to talk about.”

  “I would, you know.”

  Even though I knew he meant it, I laughed it off. “Whatever, Tuck. Embellish away.”

  I lowered my face, away from his. It was best to remove all temptation to look up into his eyes again. I’d already flirted with enough danger that day.

  The boat lurched into high gear and turned in a wide arc until we were traveling fast with the waves, back toward the port of Skavøpoll. I never thought I’d be so happy to see those squat, rundown buildings again.

  When we pulled in to the dock, it was clear word had gotten out that we’d had an incident on the high seas. It looked like the entire town was lining the pier. Even my grandmother was there, one hand shading her eyes as she searched the deck for Graham and me.

  Grandmother pushed her way through the crowd toward us, collecting suspicious stares as she passed but holding her head high, daring them to do stop her. She pulled me into a smothering hug. “The harbormaster called and told me what happened. I worried a wisp like Ellie could just tumble overboard in all the commotion.”

  Only my six-foot-two grandmother would call me a wisp.

  “Hilda Overholt,” a deep voice said behind us.

  “Knut!” Grandmother caught Kjell’s father’s hands in both of hers and squeezed them before letting them drop. Stoic as he seemed, Knut winced at the pressure. “I thought my grandchildren would be safe with you—what happened?” Grandmother’s smile softened the accusation, but she was a lioness protecting her cub when she wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

  “An oil fire in the engine room,” Kjell’s father replied. “Would have been fine, but the boy who inspects fire safety never showed up for work yesterday.”

  My grandmother’s hand tensed around my shoulder.

  “It’s a good thing Graham knew how to handle it,” Kjell’s father added. “While everyone else was rushing around, he mixed some cleaning acid with an old box of baking soda, ran into the engine room covered with a wet tarp, and threw it on the fire. It went right out.”

  “Really?” I asked, looking up at Graham in awe.

  He waved one hand dismissively. “It was just like this lab we did in chemistry. Liquid and carbon dioxide smother the flames. No big deal. Anyone would have thought of it.”

  “Right. Of course,” I murmured. Tuck nudged my shoulder with his, and I bit my lip not to laugh.

  “Well, in my book, it was impressive.” Kjell’s father smiled. “Quick thinking. The current was fast today, carried us toward the cliffs. A spot of rough water I avoid during the high summer winds.”

  Next to me, my grandmother made a sound that almost sounded like a growl.

  “It’s a good thing for you my grandchildren made it out of there safely,” she said, an edge of warning in her voice that made the air around us feel heavier. I had to fight harder to breathe.

  “Yes, it is,” Kjell’s father replied, eyeing her warily. “We only hit a few of the biggest waves. Your grandson was quite the hero.” And with that, he gave Graham a solid thump on the shoulder and turned to walk away.

  “No vacation is complete without Graham playing hero and rescuing us all,” I said drily, trying to lighten the tension that had descended after my grandmother’s weird behavior. Tuck nudged me again, and this time I giggled.

  A shadow crossed Grandmother’s face, and she glanced around the parking lot like the pavement had ears. “Don’t say things like that out loud, sweetling,” she said, so low only I could hear. “You never know who could be listening.”

  I couldn’t imagine what that meant, but when I looked up, something caught the corner of my eye. Across the parking lot, a tall, graceful silhouette stood motionless in the shadows. Watching us. A solitary streak of sunlight turned her blond hair into a river of molten gold. A raven perched on her arm, its talons digging into her bare forearm.

  Astrid.

  My heart rate doubled at the sight of that hauntingly beautiful face.

  She lifted one arm, releasing the raven. It spread its wings and flew upward into the sky, circling overhead like a buoy marking our position from above.

  I no more than blinked, and she was gone. I rubbed my eyes. It had to have been a trick of the light.

  Grandmother’s hand on my elbow snapped me back to the present. “Let’s go home.” I followed her as if in a dream, my eyes still locked on the spot where Astrid had stood moments ago.

  Grandmother loaded us all up into her car, rain suits, Wellington boots, and all. “We’ll take your gear back to Kjell later,” she said, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “Right now I just want to get you home—and warm. I see you shivering back there, Ellie Overholt. Your hair is sopping wet.”

  I put my hand to my head. She was right. Also, my fingers were turning blue.

  We were just pulling out of the parking lot when Kjell came jogging over, blocking our exit. For one inexcusably cruel moment, I wished Grandmother would just hit the gas and blow right past him. But no, he approached and knocked on my window. I rolled it down slowly, resenting the cold air that followed.

  “Sorry to hold you up, Hilda,” he said. “I won’t keep you long.” He turned to look at me. “Ellie, will you come out tonight?” His head poked through the open window.

  “Sure,” Graham said, even though Kjell was looking right at me.

  “You too?” Kjell asked, reaching through the window and touching my shoulder.

  “Maybe,” I said. Tuck cleared his throat, shifting in the seat next to me, and suddenly I just wanted Kjell to go away.

  “We’ll be at the restaurant next to the hardware store at seven. Promise you’ll come,” he said, still staring at me too intently. “Or if you’re too tired from this morning, I can come over instead.”

  That was the last thing I needed.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll go.” It would be bette
r to face him in a crowded restaurant than on my grandmother’s narrow love seat.

  Kjell straightened, and I rolled up my window—more quickly than was polite.

  “I think someone has a crush,” Graham murmured.

  “More like an obsession,” Tuck whispered loudly.

  “Whatever,” I said. “It’s none of your business. Either of you.”

  I felt someone staring at me and looked up, only to meet Grandmother’s eyes in the rearview mirror. She was watching me. The feeling that followed was unlike anything I’d experienced before—it was as if she were reaching inside my head and probing my emotions. An unsettling, guilty feeling pinched my heart, as if I’d somehow been unfair or even cruel to Kjell. Even though all I really wanted from him was enough space to figure out what was going on in that backward town. While keeping Graham and Tuck from figuring out what I was up to.

  ONCE WE WERE home, a hot shower fixed all my problems. At least the physical ones. I hadn’t realized how sore and bruised my muscles were until steaming water poured over them, washing away the grime and sea salt.

  By the time I made it down to the kitchen, Graham and Tucker were gone. Apparently our morning brush with death hadn’t been enough activity for one day. They were off at some field, doing soccer drills.

  I made tea and sat at the kitchen table, prepared to crack open another book. But every time I tried to focus on the page, my thoughts would drift back to what Kjell had told me on the boat. The possibility that his creepy friends were spying on me. That thought had particularly plagued me in the shower. I’d double-checked the curtains three times.

  “Ellie?” Grandmother called up the stairs as she walked into the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” When she saw me already sitting at the table, her hand flew to her chest. She looked startled, but also like she was prepared to do something about it. I wondered who else she thought might have wandered into her kitchen. “You scared me, sweetling,” she said, forcing out a laugh. “I didn’t hear you come downstairs.”

  “I was just reading.” I set my book facedown on the table.

  “Can we talk for a moment?” Grandmother settled onto the window seat and folded her legs up underneath herself. She was amazingly flexible for a woman her age—actually, for a woman of any age. “While the boys are out of the house,” she added.

  That last comment grabbed all of my attention. “Why?” I asked.

  “Some conversations are better had when you can’t be interrupted,” she said softly.

  My heart started to thunder in my ears. It seemed my patience was finally paying off. I knew she was hiding things—information about the disappearances and maybe even about Astrid.

  And I was burning to have her come clean. But even if she didn’t tell me everything, hopefully what she did say would help me pull the rest of my information together.

  I held my breath as she started talking. “You’ve grown up so much in the past two years,” she said. “So much that I was shocked when I saw you walk through the airport. And you look so much like your father—your Norwegian blood is coming through, loud and clear.”

  “I know,” I said. “People almost don’t believe Mom and I are related sometimes.” An awkward pause followed, but I waited, certain she’d get to the important stuff soon.

  Grandmother looked down at her hands. “What I’m trying to say …” She paused. “… is that I’m not the only one who’ll start to notice now that you’re grown up. Kjell seems very aware of the fact—and he won’t be the last.”

  I swallowed hard but still couldn’t force my disappointment back down my throat. Not only was it not what I was hoping to hear, it was a nightmare. Under no circumstances did I want to have this particular conversation with my grandmother.

  “Certain people will find you irresistible. Particularly if you want them to. Do you understand what I mean by that?” Her eyes were sharp as she searched my face, but I just looked down and shrugged, hoping she’d take the hint.

  She reached over and touched my hand. Trying to get me to meet her gaze. “From now until your eighteenth birthday, well, things will change a lot for you—in some unexpected ways. I want you to start paying very close attention to the types of things you say to boys. Always be aware of your tone of voice and the way you look at them.”

  A modesty lecture was honestly the last thing I ever expected from my grandmother. She’d always seemed so much cooler than that. I just kept staring at my knees, praying it would end.

  But Grandmother would not let the subject drop. After a pause, she pressed on. “You’ve never done anything wrong, darling—that’s not what I’m saying. There are certain things you need to understand about how a special tone of voice can be, well, hypnotic. Other people abuse that power—use it for their own gain. I don’t want you to make that mistake. I want you to respect it. The way I did. Sweetheart, trust me. You haven’t even begun to realize what you’re capable of.”

  The silence stretched more painfully than the rack.

  Until the screen door exploded open and a soccer ball ricocheted against the table leg, spinning to a stop in the middle of the floor.

  Graham was a half second behind it.

  “Sorry!” he panted, grabbing the ball and tucking it up under his arm. “Just came back to grab something to drink.”

  He had nothing to apologize for—I could have kissed him. I seized my chance to escape.

  “Can I come too?” I asked.

  “Course,” he said, eyes widening in surprise. “Grab your shoes.”

  “We’ll talk later—right, Grandmother?” I said, rising.

  She nodded, but I could sense her hesitation, like she didn’t want me to go. I felt bad fleeing, but really, she couldn’t expect me to sit through that willingly. It’s one thing to be close to your grandmother, but quite another to discuss your love life with her. Or lack thereof.

  Yet as Graham and I walked away across the yard, I glanced back at the house. Grandmother stood just inside the screen door, her shoulders tense and her face creased with worry. Seeing her that way, I almost wondered if I’d underestimated the importance of whatever she’d been trying to say.

  6

  When we got to the restaurant that night, Kjell was the first person I saw—mostly because he flagged me down like a taxi. He was sitting on the far side of a long, crowded table.

  “Ellie, here,” he called out, motioning to one of his friends to shift down. “There’s room for you right here.”

  “Such a stalker,” Tuck muttered under his breath.

  I nudged him with my elbow, and he nudged me right back. Graham frowned the way he did when he was about to play dad, so I slipped away from Graham before he could say something that would put me in an even worse mood.

  The space between the table and the wall was narrow, and I used hand gestures to let Kjell know it was too hard for me to make my way over there. Instead I pulled up a seat at the end of the table, right next to Tuck. I knew if I needed him to, he’d help me keep Kjell at bay, but unlike Graham, he’d do it without treating me like a toddler.

  A boy at the end of the table raised a beer as Graham found a seat farther down, away from us.

  “Skål—that’s cheers, for the Americans—to Graham, who saved some of us from a long swim home.” The words sent a shiver down my spine as it brought back all the memories of the fishing boat mishap. But that wasn’t the only thought that made the trembling spread until my fingers shook. My grandmother’s warning echoed through my mind: it wasn’t wise to say such things out loud. Deeds like Graham’s had a power, an allure all their own—I could feel it—and it was better not to draw so much attention to it. You never knew who or what it would attract.

  The glimpse of Astrid at the docks flashed through my mind, and I shuddered.

  “Only a true hero could save a boat and a goal on the same day,” someone said, his voice drifting above the chatter at the table.

  My chest tightened as the shadows in the room expanded
, boxing us in, threatening to swallow us whole. The air was close and stuffy, like the inside of a parked car in the height of an LA summer.

  The table erupted in laughter as another round of pint glasses slid into waiting hands, beer sloshing over the edges and onto the chipped Formica table. The ominous feeling deepened as the jokes continued, all focused on the multitalented Graham. I looked at my brother and fought the urge to drag him from the room and hide him away, someplace secret, someplace safe.

  Unlike the other times I’d felt sick hearing Graham lavishly praised, this time my agitation wasn’t tainted by resentment. I wanted to protect him, and my anxiety only got worse because I was still struggling to understand exactly what from.

  And as the panic mounted, I turned frantic eyes toward the door, contemplating bolting. I would grab Graham and Tuck and flee back to Grandmother’s house. But a man stood just inside the door, leaning against the window. He caught my eye and his hand slid inside his jacket. Exactly where you’d expect to find a gun. Maybe he was one of them, a member of the crazy group who’d been watching me. Or maybe I was being paranoid.

  Given how weird my life had become, sanity was a distant memory.

  I glanced back at the man, only to find him still staring at me.

  Tuck’s head tipped closer to mine. Inches away. “Maybe next they’ll elect him mayor. Do we even need a vote?” He flashed a grin that in any other circumstances would have captured my undivided attention but in this case just served to return my focus to the table, where they’d started toasting Graham all over again. My brain moved sluggishly, grappling with Tucker’s joke. Trying to act like everything was fine, even though it was the exact opposite.