Secrets of Valhalla by Jasmine Richards Read Free Book Online Page B

“Thank you for your time. Come on, buddy. Let’s get you home.”
    Buzz threw off the hand and took a step toward Mary. “Why are you lying?”
    Mary hung her head. “Buzz, whatever you think to be true—it isn’t. I’m sorry.”
    Whatever you think to be true—it isn’t. He repeated the words to himself and he felt the fabric of his memories rip. Buzz put a hand to his injured temple and found the spot of waxy soreness . Had he really imagined the whole thing with Eleanor Bright? Was that really possible? His eyes raked over Mary and rested on her right hand, which was wrapped in a bandage.
    â€œHow’d you hurt your hand?”
    Mary gave a start but paused for only a second. “We were trying to build a fire, remember?”
    Buzz shook his head.
    â€œThat’s how you hurt yourself,” Mary continued. “A fragment chipped off the rock we were using as a flint and you were knocked out cold. I was trying to wake you up and that’s when the fire got out of control.” She studied her bandage. “I hurt my hand trying to put the blaze out.”
    â€œAnd how about the lightning bolt pendant?”
    â€œPendant?” Mary repeated.
    Buzz reached into his bag and pulled out his half of thelightning bolt. “You have the other half of this.”
    Mary shook her head. “No, I don’t, but I was there when you found that. It’s just a bit of scrap metal. I told you that at the time.”
    â€œI see.” But in truth, he didn’t. He just wanted to get home. He turned to Uncle Mark. “I’m ready to go now.”
    â€œThen let’s go, buddy.”
    â€œInspector, don’t you think you should get the boy to the hospital?” Mary’s grandmother peered over her half-moon glasses at him. “He’s clearly not . . . well.” She gave a strained laugh. “He thought he saw a dragon.”
    â€œBuzz is going to be just fine.” Uncle Mark tucked his notepad away. “But I will pass on your concern to his father.” He nodded his head. “Thanks again for your time.”
    With a gentle pressure at his back, Buzz was steered to the front door by his godfather. He focused on his steps. A pattern of movement that made sense when nothing else did.
    He heard the slap of hasty footsteps behind him, and then Mary was at his side. Uncle Mark had reached to open the door, but Mary placed her hand on the wood to keep it closed. “Buzz,” she said softly. “Come and find me, okay? We’re still friends.”
    Buzz stared straight ahead at the door and did not respond. Either he was losing his mind or she was lying about what had happened in the woods. Both scenarios meant that he should stay well away from her. “I only met you today,” he said. “And you’re telling me I imagined half ofit. That doesn’t make us friends, does it?”
    â€œBuzz.” Her voice was urgent. “Please, I—”
    A tutting sound came from behind them. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing this young man again, dear,” Mary’s grandmother said. “I fear he has a rather overactive imagination, and we don’t want that rubbing off on you. You’ve been doing so well lately, Amaryllis, and we wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, would we?”
    â€œNo, Grandmother.”
    â€œSo best for this to be a final and proper good-bye.”
    â€œYes, Grandmother.” Buzz heard Mary swallow hard. “Bye, Buzz.”
    Buzz took his eyes off the door and looked at Mary. Her eyes glittered with anger or tears, he couldn’t tell which, but he felt too numb to care. “Good-bye.”
    Uncle Mark opened the front door, and they stepped into the night. His godfather quickly checked his phone, his face impassive as he looked at the screen.
    The drive back to Buzz’s house was quiet except for the low hum of the engine, which