Chapter 5
His own children.
His own children.
His children.
There they were. The words she’d been waiting for. The words she’d been dreading.
Confirmation.
She half expected Mason to start pummeling Elias with his fists again. But when she looked over at her brother, he appeared just as shell-shocked as she felt.
Distantly, she was aware of Elias making his goodbyes (“Great catching up, old friends; I have a feeling we’ll be seeing quite a bit of each other in the coming days”) and whistling as he set off down the hallway, but she couldn’t focus on him.
Couldn’t focus on anything but her brother, who looked so hurt, so lost, it made her want to break down crying.
“Mason,” she whispered, grasping his hand.
“Don’t.” Mason yanked his hand away, disgusted by her touch. He didn’t even look at her. “Just … don’t, Charlie.”
She recoiled. It felt like he’d slapped her. Down at her feet, Henry squeaked, as if he were in pain, too.
Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “Mason, I know how awful this is. I know you don’t want it to be true. Neither do I. But we have to face the facts, and—”
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” he said, not even sparing her a glance. He started to turn away, to walk off in the opposite direction that Elias had gone, but before he could, Lou grabbed his wrist.
“Oh, for the love of the gods,” Lou growled, yanking Mason backward. With her free hand, she grabbed Charlie’s wrist, too. “Come on.”
“Hey!” Mason said. “What are you—”
“Shut up,” Lou said as she pulled them across the hall and into the nearby girls’ bathroom. Abigail and Henry followed in their wake, letting the door swing shut behind them.
At the mirror, Marie Anderson and Taylor Smythe, who were touching up their makeup, looked at the intruding male with alarm.
Marie said, “What the hell are you—”
“Family emergency,” Lou said. She tossed a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the door. “Privacy required. See you in Spanish.”
Marie and Taylor exchanged bewildered looks, then shook their heads and filed out of the bathroom. They probably would have been more upset were it anyone else, but they’d grown up with Lou. They were used to her antics.
After the girls left, Lou bent over to inspect beneath the bathroom stalls. Once she was certain no one else was lurking inside, she stomped over to the door and turned the lock, shutting them inside.
She spun around and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Now,” she said, glaring between Charlie and Mason. “Talk.”
“About what?” Mason asked flatly.
“Oh, please.” Under the hazy fall light filtering in through the frosted glass panes of the skylight, Lou rolled her eyes. “You two have barely looked at each other since homecoming. I know things have been rough between you since Sophie died, but I really thought you were making progress—”
“Sophie didn’t die,” Mason said, tone as frigid as a Michigan winter. “Which we all know now.” He cut a searing look at Charlie. “No thanks to her.”
Charlie bristled. There it was. The unspoken wall between them. The reason her brother had barely been able to look her in the eye for three weeks straight.
She understood why Mason was angry with her.
Really, she did. But at the same time, if he’d been in her position, wouldn’t he have done the same thing?
If the choice had been between feeding her an eyaerberry that let her see their sister again but exposed her to grave danger or keeping her safe in the dark instead, wouldn’t he have chosen the latter? Wouldn’t he?
After he ate the eyaerberry, she should have told him about Sophie right away.
She could admit that much. But she’d been so scared for Lou, and everything had happened so fast. It was like hurtling through a half-remembered dream, making decisions in the moment and praying they were the right ones.
Keeping Sophie a secret until after they rescued Lou was one of those decisions.
Unfortunately, it was the wrong one, because Elias had spilled the news before she had the chance to do it herself.
She could still remember the expression on Mason’s face. The hurt. The betrayal. She and her brother had, after two excruciating years of practically ignoring each other, finally started to come back together … only to splinter. All the unsteady trust they’d begun to build, gone in an instant.
That first week after homecoming, Charlie had tried to talk to Mason about Sophie every day, sometimes multiple times a day.
She’d cornered him in the kitchen at breakfast, or in the hallway before bed, or when it was just them in the Bronco, before Lou and Abigail got in.
But no matter where they were or what she tried, she was only ever met with silence.
She turned to face him head-on. “Why are we even talking about this, Mason? Elias just confirmed that Loki is our father. We should be following that lead, not arguing about something that happened almost a month ago.”
“Confirmed?” Mason shook his head. “Have you lost it, Charlie? Elias has more than proven himself to be a compulsive liar. He would say anything to achieve whatever perverse goal actually brought him back to Silver Shores. Saying that his boss is our father is the perfect lie. Don’t you see?
He’s trying to bring us over to his side. To make us trust him again.”
“But you saw him, Mason,” Charlie said, not caring that she sounded like she was pleading. “You saw what Loki looked like. You saw his eyes. He looked like an AI-generated version of you in thirty years. He looked—”
Her words cut off when an ominous shadow passed suddenly over the skylight, followed almost immediately by two muted thunks. Everyone startled, necks snapping up to look at the ceiling.
Four dark footprints were outlined on the frosted glass.
Charlie’s heart kicked into high gear. Oh gods, she thought. Elias left, but he must have blown his draugar whistle before he went.
She wished desperately for the feel of Sophie’s Valkyrie blade in her hand, or a bow and arrow, or even one of Mason’s wooden practice swords.
Unfortunately, all her weapons were locked in a hidden compartment in the back of the Bronco.
She hadn’t wanted to bring weapons into school.
Not when the beasts of the night usually stayed well away. But now?
Now she would do anything for something sharp.
“Run,” Charlie said without looking at her friends. “Get out of the bathroom before it comes inside. I’ll stay here and hold it off for as long as I—”
“Are you high?” Lou snorted. “Yeah. We’re totally going to run and leave you to face whatever nightmare is up there on your own.”
“I’m serious, guys.” The footprints shuffled on the glass, the shadows above thickening as whatever stood there bent and started to fiddle with the skylight.
Charlie’s heart was thundering, the roar rising in her ears.
“If those are draugar, we don’t stand a chance.
At least this way you’ll have a head start. ”
Scratching sounded on the skylight.
“Oh, hell no.” Abigail grabbed Charlie’s and Lou’s wrists. “I am not dying before I find out if I got into Columbia.”
The window shattered.
Charlie screamed, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her head as glass rained down.
A split second later, she heard two thuds and the crunch of glass as whatever was on the roof landed in the bathroom.
Charlie slowly opened her eyes, preparing to fight some horrible beast, wondering if she could use a toilet lid as a weapon—
Charlie inhaled sharply.
There, crouched atop a sea of glass shards, heads bent forward, hair spilling over their faces, were two winged warriors. One with dark hair, one with blond. Both had pale skin underlined with lean muscle, like angels who spent most of their free time in heaven’s gymnasium.
No, Charlie corrected herself. Not angels.
Valkyries.
Sophie lifted her head. When she did, her eyes landed right on Charlie, as if she’d already known where her twin would be standing. She didn’t smile. She simply rose to her feet and rolled her shoulders back. The blond Valkyrie behind her did the same.
Henry squeaked with excitement.
Charlie wanted to burst into laughter. Or tears. Or both. She wanted to rush at her twin, to throw her incredibly average arms around Sophie’s ridiculously muscled ones and give her the type of hug a person could drown in.
But Sophie’s expression welcomed no kind of hug.
Charlie glanced over at Mason. She knew what she would find on his face—the same shock and awe that had surely dominated her own expression the night she saw Sophie standing on the roof outside her window.
Mason knew Sophie was alive but knowing that the little sister whose death you grieved is still alive is a completely different thing than seeing her standing in front of you—wings, weapons, leather armor, and all.
Mason’s face had gone completely white. His arms hung limply at his sides, the straps of his backpack slipping from his shoulders.
Sophie didn’t even acknowledge her brother’s reaction. She merely looked between him and Charlie with a raised chin.
“Charlotte and Mason Hudson,” she said, sounding like a judge addressing a pair of defendants—cool, detached, as if she had never shared their last name. “We have a message for you.”
Mason didn’t appear to be able to respond. Charlie hardly felt capable of speech herself, but she knew she needed to get it together. Whatever brought the Valkyries here, to the girls’ bathroom at Silver Shores High School of all places, must be urgent. Even dire.
After a beat, Charlie swallowed. “A message from whom?”
Pride flashed in Sophie’s eyes. “From the Allfather himself.”