Secrets of Valhalla

by Jasmine Richards

  He cradled the side of his face, remembering how Theo’s elbow had crashed into it at the game yesterday.

  Yesterday. The same yesterday that should have been Sunday but had actually been another Saturday. Buzz had managed finally to convince himself that this second Saturday had been some kind of dream. But if that was the case, why was his jaw hurting?

  Buzz sniffed the air and felt his heart rate accelerate. He could smell pancakes.

  Not again.

  He pinched himself, twisting at his skin. If this Saturday loop really was some kind of hallucination, then it was time for him to wake up.

  “Ow!” His voice was loud in the quiet room, and all the pinch caused was a red mark and a radiating pain.

  Enough, Buzz thought. Nothing’s been the same since that evening in the woods on Friday the thirteenth. Answers, if there were any to be had, were going to be there. And Sunna had said the tree would help.

  He got ready quickly, laced up his sneakers, and tucked his still-broken phone into his backpack before shooting down the stairs.

  Tia, dressed in her A-Team T-shirt, looked up from the breakfast bar where she was tucking into a short stack of pancakes. Again.

  “Whoa! Where’s the fire, Buzz?” she asked, a little crease forming between her eyebrows.

  “There’s something I’ve got to go and check.”

  “But I’ve made you pancakes,” the Prof protested, holding up the jug of batter. Buzz noticed that it was now cracked, and the pattern of flowers was little more than blobs.

  “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I promised Sam that we’d have a quick practice before the match.”

  Prof frowned. “How’s your head? I’m really not sure it’s a sensible idea for you to go and play, and certainly not without eating something first.”

  “I feel fine.” Buzz snatched a pancake off Tia’s plate. “And look, now I’ve had something to eat.” He shoved the pancake into his mouth and gulped it down.

  “Firstly, oi! And secondly, what happened to your head?” Tia asked.

  “Prof will fill you in,” Buzz said over his shoulder as he headed for the front door. “See you later.”

  Mist rolled over the ground as Buzz left the house and jogged down the path that wended deeper into the forest. The trees stood as silent sentries, witnesses to many things over the years, but most accomplished as keepers of secrets.

  He pushed through the woods, the thin blanket of autumn leaves crunching underfoot, and headed for Mornings Lake. The tree had been near there.

  Buzz walked along the burbling brook that led toward the lake. The sound of the stream soothed the headache he hadn’t even realized he’d been battling, and he felt at peace.

  I should have come to the woods sooner, he thought.

  It felt so right in this place. His head felt clear, and here, he knew for sure that he had not imagined Eleanor or the dragon.

  And he knew as well that he was not imagining that Saturday was repeating itself on a loop. Something very wrong had happened here on Friday the thirteenth, and the world was not recovering from it.

  He heard the crunch of footsteps behind him, and he whipped around.

  “You,” he said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ratatosk

  “Hi.” Mary’s voice came out at a whisper.

  “What are you doing here?” Buzz demanded.

  “The same as you, I’m guessing. I’m looking for that tree.” She tugged on her braids, which had been swept into a long ponytail. “I’ve been searching in these woods for the last two days in a row. Or should I say two Saturdays in a row?” She sounded nervous. “It’s been kinda trippy, right, reliving the same day?”

  “Reliving the same day?” Buzz concentrated on painting a shocked look on his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t?” Mary looked dismayed. “You mean it’s just me?” She rubbed at her forehead, and her lips became a worried line.

  Buzz was tempted to keep up the act, but he relented. “No, it’s not just you. And yes, it has been kinda trippy.”

  Mary heaved a sigh of relief. “You’re getting me back, aren’t you? For lying about Sunna and the dragon.” She hugged her arms. “I’m so sorry about what happened at my grandmother’s house.”

  “Why’d you lie?” Buzz asked, his anger flickering to life again. “For the last few days, I actually thought I was going crazy.”

  “Crazy?” Mary repeated. “Do you know what it actually means to be crazy? To have your parents spend all the money they have to send you to a special center and be monitored and studied and talked at until all the crazy is gone and you promise not to speak any more about the ghosts that you see? Not to mention that you can read people’s deepest fears in their faces.” Mary’s voice was bitter. “If you knew what it really felt like to be crazy, then maybe you’d lie as well. Maybe you’d do anything you could to stop being sent back.”

  “You should have told me that. You should have told me that you couldn’t tell the truth about the dragon,” Buzz insisted. “I would have understood. Instead, you let me turn up at your grandmother’s house with my uncle Mark and make a complete fool of myself.”

  Mary bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I guess I wanted to be Mary for a bit longer and not Scary Mary the weirdo who sits on her own in the cafeteria. Forgive me, Buzz.” Her hazel eyes were uncertain behind her glasses. “Can we start again? No secrets this time.”

  Buzz rubbed at the back of his neck. Maybe Mary should have told him the truth. But to be fair, all that stuff about seeing ghosts and people’s deepest fears sounded even stranger than seeing an actual dragon.

  I understand why she didn’t say it, he realized. And right now, he needed her. They were the only two people who seemed to notice that Saturday was on a loop.

  “Let’s go find that tree,” he said. “It’s the only lead we have.”

  Together, they followed the brook toward Mornings Lake and between them tried to decide if any of the scenery looked familiar.

  “It’s strange,” Mary mused. “I put the coordinates of the tree into my watch, but we still can’t find it.”

  “So what do you think is going on?” Buzz asked.

  “Well, the tree is magic. I suppose I could have guessed my watch wouldn’t work.”

  “No, I mean the Saturday loop thing,” Buzz responded, trudging through the leaves. “Why is it happening? And why are we the only ones to notice it?”

  Mary grinned in the gloom of the forest. “I’m smart, but I’m not a genius.”

  “But you have a theory, right?”

  Mary shook her head. “Not this time. But I do think the dragon thing, the Sunna thing, and the Saturday thing are connected.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I think seeing Sunna being taken means we aren’t affected by the Saturday loop like other people.”

  “Okay, so can we recap what we know?” Buzz suggested. “I’ve spent the last two days trying to forget everything because I thought I was going mad.”

  “I’ve been doing some research,” Mary said. “Sunna said that she’d been a goddess a long time ago, before she went into her deep sleep.” Mary reached into her pocket and took out the necklace with its half of the pendant.

  Buzz took out his half, and they clipped them together to make the bolt of lightning:

  “This is Sunna’s rune mark, her insignia,” Mary said, placing it around her neck. “It means sun.” She looked excited. “I didn’t remember the name before, but Sunna is the Norse goddess of the sun.”

  “Holey pajamas!” Buzz exclaimed, and he wasn’t even embarrassed that he’d used the phrase. Nothing else was really going to cut it. “But if Sunna is the sun, what is that star 92.96 million miles away? You know—the one that kind of powers our whole planet?”

  “You’re the son of a mythologist, have no clue when it comes to mythology, and yet you know exactly how far away the sun is!”

  “I’m full of contradictions.”

 
; “Clearly.” Mary shook her head in disbelief. “Anyway, I didn’t say that Sunna was the sun. It was the people who worshiped her who made her the personification of that star 92.96 million miles away. They made her a day guardian to boot, just like she said. Sunna is just a person with superpowers. I think that might be true of all these gods.”

  “Okay, so Sunna and her other superpowered day guardian mates fell out with this Loki chap and imprisoned him, but now he is free and has kidnapped Sunna in revenge.”

  “Not just for revenge. He wants her powers and the powers of the other gods who wronged him, remember?” Mary pushed her glasses up her nose. “Those powers are in the Runes of Valhalla. We need to find them before Loki does.”

  “But what does any of this have to do with us all being stuck in a Saturday loop?” Buzz asked.

  “Yer can’t have a Sunday if the sun is gone from your realm, bird brains,” a gruff voice said from above their heads. “Everything is stuck, stuck, muk, muk.”

  There was a sound of rustling leaves and more muk, muking, which seemed to reverberate in the chest of whatever creature was generating it. Then, scrabbling down the trunk of an old oak tree, came a squirrel.

  It stood in front of them, blocking their path. Its large, clever, dark eyes watched them carefully. The squirrel’s red, bushy tail was held high, but Buzz noticed immediately that the tip was missing, leaving behind a raw-looking stump.

  A memory came back to him. A flash of red fur hurtling through the air, forcing him to move out of the way of the dragon’s rapidly descending tail.

  “You were there when Sunna was taken,” Buzz said. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

  “It’s me job. Apologies that it’s taken so long to find yer. Been recovering from me injuries.” The squirrel gave a theatrical bow. “Ratatosk at yer service. Agent of the World Tree. Muk, muk.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ratatosk.” Mary bowed low, her long ponytail almost grazing the ground. “Sunna said the tree would help us, and she was right.”

  Buzz noticed that Mary was positively beaming, and it occurred to him that she didn’t look even remotely thrown by the fact that they were talking to a squirrel.

  “What do you mean when you say everything is stuck?” she asked Ratatosk.

  But the squirrel was not listening. His nose was twitching. His whiskers were quivering. And then, in a streak of burnt umber, he was away into the undergrowth.

  “Wait!” Mary and Buzz exclaimed at the same time, but all they were greeted with was silence.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Him Upstairs

  “Ratatosk,” Buzz called. “RATATOSK!”

  “All right, all right. Keep your ruddy hair on,” Ratatosk yelled back from the dense undergrowth. “I’ll just be a sec.”

  They heard the scrabble of claws, and then a stream of earth shot out onto the path as the squirrel began to dig away. In no time at all, Ratatosk gave a muk, muk of pleasure and appeared back in front of them with a large hazelnut in his little paws.

  He filled his furry cheeks with air and blew on the nut to try to rid it of any dirt. Looking pleased with himself, he popped it into his mouth and began chomping away.

  Mary gave a small, polite cough, and then a louder one so she could be heard over the chewing. “Ratatosk, what do you mean, stuck?” she asked again.

  Ratatosk looked up, his little jaw still working hard. He tried to say something, but all Buzz and Mary actually heard was, “Numph, numph.”

  Realizing that they hadn’t understood, Ratatosk swallowed the last of his hazelnut, gave a tiny burp, and patted his furry tummy. “The week is stuck on Saturday because Sunna has gone from your world and been taken to one of the hidden realms.”

  Buzz rubbed at his forehead. “But why does Sunna being gone mean we’re stuck on a Saturday loop?”

  Ratatosk shook his head despairingly and with his hind legs began shoveling the pile of dirt on the path back into the undergrowth.

  “It ain’t brain surgery. Days of the week each have a guardian,” Ratatosk explained, hind legs still working furiously. “Sunday is Sunna’s day. But now that she’s been taken to one of the hidden realms, and is stuck with that dragony brute Nidhogg, Sunday can’t happen.” Ratatosk finished with the dirt and sat back on his haunches. “And the longer Saturday is on a loop, the worse things will get. It’s gonna get real messy.”

  Buzz thought of his mother. He imagined her out there in the Amazon rain forest, waiting for the plane that would bring her home—a plane that would never come if it was Saturday forever. And I don’t even want to know what Ratatosk means by things getting real messy. Right now, he could only deal with one thing at a time.

  “How do we get Sunna back?” he asked.

  “Yer need to find the other runes and give them back to the right gods so they can regain their powers and stop Loki.”

  “Okay. But how do we find them?” Mary asked.

  “The runes or the gods?” Ratatosk asked, sniffing at his tail.

  “The gods,” Buzz said.

  “The runes,” Mary said.

  Ratatosk’s fur bristled. “Are yer having a laugh? I can only tell yer one thing at a time. I’m not a magic squirrel, yer know. Do I look like I have two heads, two mouths, two—”

  “Okay, okay. Tell us where to find the gods first,” Mary soothed.

  Ratatosk’s fur bristled even more. “That’s way above my pay grade.” He shook his furry head. “Listen, their god selves will be asleep. Embedded deep down in a person, just like it was with Sunna. The day guardians are going to look like average Joes just like you, Buzz.”

  “Average Joe,” Buzz repeated. “Thanks for that.”

  “If they could be anyone,” Mary said, “how are we supposed to find them?”

  “If yer get the runes, they’ll lead yer to yer sleeping gods. If yer don’t get the runes, yer only clue will be that the hosts of the day guardians will have stayed close to the tree. Close to these woods.”

  “So that could be anyone in Crowmarsh,” Buzz mused.

  Ratatosk nodded. “Some of yer hosts may have an inkling that something ain’t right and they’re stuck in a Saturday loop. That might help yer spot them. But more likely, they’ll have no idea that they’re hosting gods, and the sleeping day guardians won’t wake up until they are reunited with their runes and powers.” Ratatosk lifted his injured tail and gave it a sniff. “D’yer think it’s infected?” he asked fretfully. “That horrible dragon crushed it to a pulp.”

  Mary knelt down and peered at it. “No, I don’t think so.” She leaned forward and sniffed it gingerly. “And it doesn’t smell bad, either. I think it’s all right.”

  Ratatosk beamed at her. “Thanks for looking. I’m a complete hypochondriac sometimes.” He looked over at Buzz. “She’s very helpful, this one. Let’s hope those gods yer need to find will be just as obliging.” Ratatosk stroked his whiskers meditatively.

  “Okay, so where are the runes, then?” Buzz asked.

  Ratatosk crossed his arms. “I’m just a squirrel. How should I know?”

  “You’re the agent of the tree!” Buzz exclaimed. “You’re not just a squirrel. Squirrels can’t talk.”

  “Have yer ever listened?” Ratatosk shot back. “I mean really listened?”

  “No. But—”

  “You seem so wise and knowing, Ratatosk.” Mary reached out and gently stroked the squirrel’s head. “So we just assumed that you’d know.”

  Ratatosk calmed down and nuzzled into her hand. “Well . . . I did hear that the runes are scattered across the hidden realms of the human world, and I’d bet all the hazelnuts in this wood that Loki is looking for them right now.” He clasped his paws together. “If anyone knows where the runes are for certain it will be him upstairs. Yer know—the lord of all time. Yer’ll need to speak to him.”

  “Him upstairs.” Buzz gulped. “As in, the big cheese . . .”

  “Saturn, yeah,” Ratatosk replied.

  “Oh,”
Buzz said. “That’s not who I thought you meant at all.” His brow scrunched. “How are we going to speak to a planet?”

  “What in the worlds are yer goin’ on about?” Ratatosk looked outraged. “Why would I be telling yer to talk to a planet? How would that even work?”

  “He means the Roman god, Saturn,” Mary said. “You know, the God of Time? We’ve spoken about the personification thing already, Buzz.” She stroked Ratatosk’s head again. The squirrel looked up at her adoringly and began to purr.

  First, Buzz didn’t even know that squirrels could purr. Second, he didn’t know that Saturn was the Roman God of Time. And third, as much as he was trying to ignore it, he didn’t know why Mary was staring at him with such a seriously perplexed look.

  “Are you sure your father is a mythologist?” she asked after a moment. “How come you don’t know any of this stuff? It’s just a bit strange.”

  Buzz’s cheeks flushed. “I guess he hasn’t been that interested in telling me.”

  Or you haven’t been that interested in listening, the annoying voice in his head countered. Because you thought it was all rubbish.

  “A mythologist?” the squirrel asked. “What’s that, then?”

  “A professor of mythology,” Buzz responded. “He does a lot of research about myths. Spends most of his time in these woods, actually, looking for evidence about certain ancient mythologies and their epicenters.”

  “I know exactly who you mean,” Ratatosk said. “Pale, serious-looking guy with the glasses, always poking about. Sings to himself—his voice kind of stays with you.”

  “That’s him.” Although Buzz didn’t think he’d ever heard the Prof sing before.

  “Where was I?” Ratatosk picked a bit of nut from his front teeth. “That’s right, Saturn. He and Odin have always been as thick as thieves. Singing each other’s praises.” The squirrel rolled his eyes. “Strange really, since gods tend to stay with their own kind. Norse with Norse, Roman with Roman, Egyptian with Egyptian.” Ratatosk wrinkled his nose. “But those two were peas in a pod, ruthless as yer like. After Odin had Loki imprisoned and stripped of his powers, he asked Saturn to become guardian of the Trickster’s day.”