Valkyrie Rising (10 page)

Fortunately, she seemed to be avoiding me, too. She spent the entire day in her garden, only coming in for lunch, so the whole morning we set eyes on each other only once.

As the afternoon wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I had the oddest sensation that someone was watching me. And the second time I went to the front window, just to check, I saw Grandmother standing in the middle of the driveway, hand shading her eyes as she stared off in the same direction I kept glancing myself.

I opened the screen door, and Grandmother’s eyes snapped to mine. “Thought I saw a raven,” she said. “Strange to see them this far north.” Not only was her delivery off, so were her facts. It was like she’d reached into a bag of excuses and read the very first one aloud without thinking about it.

She stood there a moment longer, hands on her hips, before she turned and attacked the weeds in her vegetable beds like they might attack back.

I wasn’t the only who had that itchy feeling under my skin.

Her behavior was just further proof that my grandmother knew something, and the more I thought about it, the angrier I got that she’d sidestepped my questions the day before—especially if Tuck and Graham were in danger. Still, every time I rolled our conversation around in my head, I couldn’t think of a way to make it end differently. No matter what I said, Grandmother would just clam up and change the subject all over again unless I found the right leverage—something that would force her to talk. Fortunately, given her lame explanation about the raven, I had a feeling it wouldn’t take long for her to slip up and tell me everything.

G
RAHAM AND
T
UCK
didn’t come home until late that afternoon, as the warmth from the kitchen had nearly lulled me to sleep. When they finally arrived, they took the house by storm. They barged into the kitchen and I jumped, sending my book tumbling to the floor.

“Plans tomorrow?” Graham asked, reaching into the fridge for something—anything—to eat. “Met some guys at the pickup game. We’re going out on a fishing boat tomorrow morning. You in?”

“I don’t know,” I said slowly, wondering if it would just be a repeat of the first and only time I had hung out with boys from this weird Norwegian town. That was an experience I wasn’t all that keen to repeat.

“Why not?” Graham asked. “You love fishing boats.”

I hesitated, wondering if it was safe. Wondering if we’d run into Margit and her friends, or worse, the strangers who’d invaded the bar. Strangers who were much scarier to me than a girl with a grudge and a locator beacon.

“Of course she’s coming.” Tuck grabbed my book and opened it to a page at random. “She just wants us to beg. Make her feel special.”

I tried to grab the book back, but Tuck held it up and away, out of my reach. I told myself it was a relief to have him acting like normal again, but part of me also wondered how long we’d be keeping up this Jekyll and Hyde act. It wasn’t fair how he kept resetting the terms without warning.

“I’m shocked, Ells. Shocked and appalled that you’d be reading this smut. What is this?” he asked after a moment, flipping back to the cover.

“
Lolita
. Nabokov.”

“For AP English?” Graham asked, glancing over at me.

I nodded.

“So it’s about a younger girl,” Tuck said, skimming the blurb on the back. “And the older guy chasing her? Sounds right up my alley.” He shot me a private smile that almost jolted me out of my chair. If he was any other boy, that would have sent Graham into DEFCON-2. But he was Tuck, and he always flew underneath the radar.

“Not just a younger girl—a child.” Graham shook his head. “You read that last year. I’m glad Ellie’s getting a head start on the reading. It’s a tough class. Stop pestering her.” With that, he disappeared down the hallway.

“Am I pestering you?” Tuck asked, smiling sweetly as he handed me back the book, and keeping his hand on it a few beats too long. Like he didn’t want to let it go.

“No,” I said, hating myself for how much I savored his attention. “But you’re confusing me.”

“You’re not the only one,” he murmured, turning to leave. “Not sure I’ve been stood up before.”

“Stood up?” I repeated, so bewildered I didn’t even know where to begin.

“You never came today. You promised.”

I just stood there, my jaw hanging half open like a door with a broken hinge.

“C’mon, Tuck.” Graham called.

Tuck’s quick, light footsteps echoed as he followed Graham up the stairs. I exhaled, realizing I’d been holding that breath for ages.

M
y alarm went off the next morning when I could barely convince my eyes to open. If the thought of spending the morning on the open ocean in a fishing boat hadn’t brought back a thousand memories of my grandfather, I would have said screw it and fallen right back asleep.

Grandmother had a hot breakfast waiting when I stumbled into the kitchen. She’d always kept unconventional hours, since she’d spent decades helping Grandfather manage his fishing business. Awakening at what most people considered the middle of the night was old habit for her, so I tried hard not to growl my replies as she cheerfully chattered and I stifled yawn after yawn.

As we approached the docks, Kjell was standing on the deck of his father’s boat, dressed head to toe in an orange rain suit with long reflective strips along the arms and legs. He heaved something over the railing, and a rubber sack landed on the ground at Graham’s feet.

“Hey, Kjell.” The way Graham greeted him made it all too clear that Kjell was our host for this adventure. I wasn’t so wild about that, but it was too late to back out now. Graham lifted the heavy bag onto his shoulder. “What’s in here, lead bricks?”

Kjell’s eyes had barely left my face long enough to nod toward Graham and Tuck. “I was hoping you’d come,” he said to me. “I thought you might if your brother did.”

Graham stiffened. “You know each other?” Frost cracked the edges of his voice.

“Didn’t Ellie tell you we went out the other night—before you arrived?” Kjell asked.

All three of them looked at me, all at once. I wanted to walk right off the edge of the dock and sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“No, she didn’t.” The chill in Graham’s voice could have grown icicles. “Is that why you pushed so hard to take us out today?”

“So it would seem,” Tuck said, looking at me even though I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze.

“Can you blame me?” Kjell asked, smiling.

From the frown on Graham’s face, he did.

Kjell just carried on, oblivious to the fact that every word he said carried him closer and closer to one of Graham’s talks. Only this time, Graham faced an adversary not only his size but also a whole year older. I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that macho showdown. Even if I was ambivalent about the outcome.

“All the gear you need is in the bag,” Kjell said. “And a bench over there if you need it. The boots can be tricky.” He pointed toward a dirty-looking café with a flickering neon coffee mug in the window. Other fishermen were loitering around outside, drinking out of chipped plastic thermoses or leaning on packing crates full of a dizzying array of ropes, nets, and mesh traps.

The rubber rain suit was at least three sizes too big for me. Even with my jeans underneath, I had to roll the waist four times to keep the pants up, and they still dropped down around my ankles when I tried to take a step. Tuck nearly fell into the water laughing at me.

“Here,” Kjell said, vaulting down from the deck of the boat with some black cords trailing from one hand. “This’ll keep your pants up.” The black straps turned out to be suspenders that he quickly fastened in place with two snaps in front. I thought that was the end of it, but then he started reaching around my waist to fasten them in back, too.

“I can get that,” I said. But he moved closer, his hands groping around under my jacket for the snaps on the back.

“Let me help,” he said. “You want to make sure it’s right so they don’t fall down and trip you on board.” I turned to make it easier for him to reach those buttons, but his hands were still all over me for what felt like an eternity. Neither of us needed to have Graham walk in on a scene like that. Finally he straightened. “Perfect.” He squeezed my shoulder before returning to the boat.

“That was the lamest excuse to paw a girl,” Tuck said, coming up behind me. “I’m surprised you went along with it.”

“What was?” I challenged. “Preventing me from tripping and falling overboard?”

“A pair of suspenders can do all that?” he said. “Would they also keep you from falling into the pool, or do you still need me for something?”

“You got me there,” I said. “But at least they could double as a noose if you get on my nerves.”

“Never took you for the tying-up type.” Tuck smirked back. That playful smile curled his lips, the one that crossed the line Graham so vigilantly maintained on my behalf. “I like this new side of you.”

I should have been mad, or at least pretended to be outraged, but all I could do was stare at him, utterly baffled that he would push this game so far into dangerous territory. I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking.

“Don’t get so deer in the headlights. I know you can keep up.” His eyes were elusive as ever. “And if you’re planning to go through life looking like that, you’d better.”

I didn’t need a mirror to know I was blushing. Which just made Tucker laugh as he slipped his hand into mine and pulled me toward the boat, where Graham and Kjell were waiting. For once, I was all too happy to indulge his blatant attempt to secure the last word.

K
JELL’S FATHER MET
us at the side of the boat, ready to welcome us on board and to offer us a hand. My shoulder nearly popped out of its socket as he swung me up past the railings and onto the painted metal deck. His accent and slow, deliberate speech reminded me of my grandfather. As did his bright blue eyes, set in the deeply creased face of a man who’d divided his years between scorching sun and biting arctic winds.

He gave us a quick lecture on safety and a tour of the bridge, which was just a glorified shack on the deck, crammed to the ceiling with navigational equipment, radios, and other beeping and pinging devices.

The boat pushed off at five o’clock sharp, and as we motored out into the fjord, I leaned against the railing, watching the green hills drift past, polka-dotted with white cotton wisps of sheep. The fjord we traveled through was just one of many winding inlets riddling the coast. Norway is a country of stark contrasts, from the impossible height of its steely mountain peaks to the dizzying depths of the icy blue water churning underneath the boat’s engine. Most unexpected were the massive waterfalls that appeared every few miles, spanning hundreds of feet, crashing down from the steep rocky bluffs and feeding the fjords below.

I counted seven other fishing boats making the same pilgrimage through the harbor toward the open water beyond. White-capped mountain peaks in the distance dwarfed the nearby hills—it still amazed me that there was so much snow in the summer. But Norway is home to glaciers and everlasting winter.

“This is my favorite part,” Kjell said, coming up and leaning his back against the railing. “Another day has started and nothing awful happened to me during the night.”

“That’s morbid,” I said.

“Is it?”

“I mean, what would happen to you?” I instantly regretted my question.

“Apparently nothing, when you’re around.” He shifted closer, and I involuntarily took a step away. The intensity in his eyes gave me goose bumps, and not in a good way. “And that’s part of the reason I asked your brother to come today—and hoped you’d come too.” He glanced around to make sure we wouldn’t be overheard. “I drove by your house three times yesterday. I wanted to see you again—no, I needed to see you again.” His hand brushed mine along the railing, and my goose bumps grew goose bumps of their own. That might explain why all afternoon I’d felt like I was being watched. And suddenly I wanted off that boat so badly, I found myself glancing longingly at the lifeboats.

Kjell was dangerously close to sounding like a stalker, particularly when he grabbed my elbow to emphasize his next words. “I’m worried about you—about your safety. You heard what happened yesterday?”

“I’m assuming you mean other than Grandmother’s flower beds being pillaged by a family of deer?”

“Your grandmother didn’t tell you how much worse it’s gotten?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed like he’d just tasted something bitter. “Did she at least warn your brother to be careful in town?”

The genuine concern in Kjell’s voice made me feel guilty about how I was treating him. It also made me wonder, for the millionth time, what exactly my grandmother was keeping from me. I shook my head again.

“What can she be thinking?” he muttered to himself. For an instant, he looked so young—his wide blue eyes were too boyish to carry the weight of so much worry. “Like I said the other night, people have been disappearing for weeks,” he said softly. “But the last few days it’s gotten worse. Before it was never here, never in Skavøpoll. It was always something you heard about happening in the distance. Somewhere else. But now it’s like the town is under attack.”

“That’s terrible,” I said softly. “I had no idea.”