Chapter 6
“Odin?”
Charlie’s surprised outburst broke the silence.
The Allfather’s name burst from her mouth and echoed off the walls, as if they stood inside a dark, mildewy cave, not a school bathroom.
After Sophie’s deafening arrival, Charlie was surprised that a teacher—or Dr. Matsson himself—hadn’t tried to come in and investigate yet.
“What on earth does the king of the gods want with Mason and me?”
“He needs your help,” said Sophie. “We’ve discovered that—”
Whatever she was about to say got cut off when Lou barreled across the bathroom and flung herself at Sophie, wrapping her in the exact type of bone-crushing hug Charlie had imagined giving her earlier.
Sophie froze. Her arms went stick-straight, eyes widening. She hadn’t been one for hugging, even as a human. Charlie could only imagine that, now that she was a literal warrior, hugs were even more taboo.
“I missed you so much,” Lou whispered into Sophie’s wild hair. “So, so much.”
Sophie glanced side to side, as if looking for an escape.
Lou muttered, “You have no idea how shitty it was when you died.”
This surprised a laugh out of Sophie. Her face lit up into the smile that Charlie hadn’t seen in two years. The smile she’d thought she might never see again.
The sound of her twin’s laughter did something funny to Charlie’s body.
It was like a tonic. Like a warm, healing drink that drained down her throat and seeped into every limb, every toe, even the ends of her hair.
It filled the deepest crevices of her soul.
Filled parts of her that she hadn’t even known were empty.
Apparently, the sound was just as surprising for the blond Valkyrie, who looked at Sophie with eyes wide as dinner plates. “Was that … a laugh?” she asked. “From Sophie Hudson?”
“Please.” Lou released Charlie’s twin from the hug, rolling her eyes and throwing one freckled arm over Sophie’s leather-clad shoulders.
“This bitch loves my jokes. You should have seen us back in grade school. One time, I decided to nickname one of our principal’s less savory aesthetic qualities, and it had Sophie in stitches for a week. ”
Sophie snorted. “Gods. I’d forgotten about that. You kept referring to the massive mole on Principal Foster’s nose as Jabba the Hutt. Every time we saw him, you’d whisper that Jabba was about to come alive and chase us across the galaxy because you owed him fifty thousand space credits.”
The other Valkyrie was shaking her head in amazement, long golden locks brushing back and forth on her leather armor. “Unbelievable. Six months in and I’m just learning my captain has a sense of humor.”
Captain. Charlie shook her head in quiet awe.
She may not know exactly what one had to do to earn the title of captain of the Valkyrie, but it was probably something ridiculously impressive.
The Valkyrie were under Odin’s command; her twin must have impressed the Allfather a great deal in only two years to already be in a position of power.
This is it, Charlie thought, watching Sophie stand comfortably under Lou’s arm. This was the moment for Charlie to finally close the space between her and her twin. To hug her. To tell her how much she’d missed her. How happy she was that Sophie was alive and so obviously thriving.
Charlie took a tentative step forward.
Before she could cross the open space to her sister, Sophie gently lifted Lou’s arm and stepped backward, putting distance between them. The moment had passed.
Sophie smiled softly, saying, “I missed you, too, Louise.”
Groaning, Lou let her head fall back. “Oh no.” She straightened up, eyeing Sophie warily. “Don’t tell me being a fancy warrior princess captain means you’re required to use my full name now.”
Sophie paused, as if taken aback by Lou’s question. She blinked once, then tilted her head, considering. “It is not … required, no.”
“But?”
“But.” Sophie lifted one leather-clad shoulder. “It is the way of things.”
“The way of what things?” Lou asked.
“Sophie,” Charlie said, raising her voice a little louder than intended. The others looked over in surprise. “Um.” She cleared her throat, trying to shake herself loose, to appear more confident than she felt. “You said you had a message.”
“Yes,” Sophie said. “I would have come earlier, but I had to wait until I was sure the mare had left the premises.”
“Is it about the note I left?” Charlie asked. “About Loki being our father? Because—”
Sophie scoffed, waving a leather-clad hand. “Of course not. I brought your message to the Allfather, and he dismissed it right away. Loki has been locked in Helheim for millennia, ever since he murdered Odin’s son Balder. He can’t be our father.”
“But he can access Asgard’s connection points to Helheim. For a handful of minutes at a time. Five, at least. That’s long enough to conceive a baby.”
“Five minutes?” Lou frowned. “Your poor mother.”
Charlie ignored her. “I’m just saying. It’s possible.”
“It’s not,” Sophie said. “The gods’ procreation doesn’t work the same as that of a human. That’s why the deities don’t have thousands of offspring running around; creating a god’s baby is a process of advanced magic. It takes far longer than five minutes.”
Something deflated within Charlie that she hadn’t even known was beginning to balloon in the first place.
“Ew,” Lou said excitedly. “More details on god sex, please.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Sophie looked between them seriously. “I’m here to deliver a warning.”
The words were enough to pull Charlie out of her strange disappointment. “A warning?” she asked. “About what?”
“About the murders that occurred here last night. I’m sure you’ve heard about them.”
“We have.” Maddie and Milo’s cold, fingerless bodies flashed through Charlie’s memory, making her stomach churn. “We’re the ones who found them.”
“Oh.” Sophie blinked. “I am … sorry. It’s not easy seeing a dead body for the first time.”
Another image flashed through Charlie’s memory.
This time, of a closed casket at the front of a church.
Though Charlie hadn’t actually been able to see Sophie’s body that day, she’d felt that she could feel her twin.
Or, more accurately—the lack of her. A hole in the universe where her other half had once been.
And it had all been a lie.
Charlie said none of this. Instead, she asked, “What does Odin know of the murders?”
“He knows who did it.”
This brought Charlie up short. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Sophie’s fingers brushed the hilt of the sword at her hip. “It is a creature known as Rattatosk.”
“Wait,” said Abigail, holding up a hand. “Rattatosk as in … the gods’ messenger squirrel? The one that runs messages up and down the world tree? That Rattatosk?”
The blond Valkyrie, who had remained mostly stone-faced since landing, other than her brief moment of surprise at Sophie’s laughter, smiled. The sight was like a lightbulb switching on; her whole face brightened, turning from terrifying to sunshine in an instant.
“You know who Rattatosk is?” the Valkyrie asked eagerly.
Abigail frowned, clearly offended. “Of course I do. You think I would discover that Norse mythology was real and not research everything I could find on the subject? To date, I’ve read all of The Prose Edda and An Introduction to Old Norse by E.
V. Gordon, and I’ve just checked out this big, dusty old book from the library called The Ancient Tales of Iceland that I’m planning to start tonight. ”
“Interesting.” The Valkyrie tilted her head to one side, pursing her lips and giving Abigail a long, luxurious once-over, from the soles of her chunky boots to the mermaid braids on top of her head.
“Who are you? I know which one Charlie is, obviously, since she looks just like Sophie. And the male who’s about to wet his pants must be the brother—”
Charlie glanced at Mason. He hadn’t moved an inch since the Valkyries had arrived, though his face had gone even paler. Charlie wasn’t sure if he’d heard the Valkyrie’s words; he looked as if he might, at any moment, teeter backward and pass out.
“—but the captain certainly didn’t brief me on any astoundingly brilliant, ethereally beautiful females we’d face on this mission,” the Valkyrie said, pale blue eyes flashing playfully.
Abigail’s mouth dropped open into a little o of surprise.
Her eyes widened, cheeks coloring. Were this any other situation, Charlie would have taken this moment to catch Lou’s eye and double over with laughter; it wasn’t often that they saw their best friend become totally speechless.
But the shock of having Sophie here, in the girls’ bathroom at the high school that, in another life, they would have been attending together, had stalled Charlie’s brain.
She was having trouble just remembering to breathe.
“Linnea,” Sophie said, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “A relentless flirt, as always. I should have known not to bring you here on official business.” She shook her head. “Even a double homicide isn’t enough to keep you from trying to get every female you meet to fall in love with you.”
Linnea shrugged, pale blue eyes glittering. “What can I say? I’m cursed with an excess of charisma.”
“Outrageous,” Sophie muttered before turning to Charlie. “Back to the subject at hand: Rattatosk is the culprit of last night’s murders. The missing fingers are his signature.”
“I’m sorry.” Lou scratched her auburn hair. “Can we go back to the fact that a messenger squirrel ate Maddie’s and Milo’s fingers?”
“Believe me,” said Sophie, “Rattatosk is far more than a squirrel. He’s a shape-shifter.
One that can turn into a beast of great horror.
For eons, he served Odin, running messages up and down Yggdrasil and harming no one.
Odin forbade him to shift. But once he was no longer bound to the Allfather…
” She looked away. “They say he becomes a monster like none the realms have ever seen.”
“Who is they?” Lou asked.