Valkyrie Symptoms by Ingrid Paulson Read Free Book Online Page B

least.
    I wouldn’t have given their whole exchange a second thought … well, maybe not a third … if my grandmother hadn’t stood there a moment longer, blocking the door.
    â€œJust be careful, Kjell,” she said, switching to English and snaring my curiosity once and for all.
    Kjell nodded, giving Grandmother a loaded smile. “I promise I won’t disappear. I’m too big for the fairies to carry away.”
    â€œEven ridiculous rumors spring from a seed of truth,” Grandmother said.
    â€œWhat rumors?” I asked. If she didn’t want me to know, she shouldn’t have dangled a big juicy carrot in front of me.
    She shook her head and smiled as she tucked my hair behind my ear.
    â€œNothing you need to worry about,” she said.
    I turned to go. In the reflection in the window beside the door, I saw Grandmother slip a small velvet envelope into Kjell’s hand, the kind that jewelers use. He upended it, and something silver slipped out onto his palm. Both of them clearly thought I hadn’t seen. But I was tuned into every single thing she did, given the way their conversation had made me reconsider Grandmother’s explanation of what had happened in the bakery. Rumors and disappearances seemed to be the new theme in Skavøpoll, and something told me they had nothing to do with last year’s garden show.
    â€œW E’LL HEAD TO the pub in a bit,” Kjell said as we climbed into his compact European hatchback. “First we have to pick up my friends.”
    We drove through town and stopped in front of a narrow alley that snaked uphill, disappearing into an older part of town. I heard the rattling metal under their feet before I saw the two shapes scampering down a fire escape and jumping the last four feet onto the uneven pavement below.
    â€œLook, Elsa, if they—if they say anything strange, just ignore it,” Kjell said. I could see his lips pressed into a thin line. He was nervous. “I’ve known them forever. And they’re great once you get to know them, but ever since I came home, they’ve taken up some, um, strange ideas.”
    â€œNo worries,” I said. “I’m sure they’re great.” Out of everyone in the whole world, I was the last person to judge his friends.
    It can be hard to find people you can trust, and when you do, you hold on to them, imperfections and all. Most of my supposed friends were wannabe Graham groupies who didn’t make the cut. Even my best friend always flirted like crazy with Graham’s friends. Especially Tuck. I hated how much that bothered me—forcing me to admit things to myself that it was far safer to suppress.
    By then, the two shadows had reached us and were cramming themselves into the narrow backseat. One was a girl with a round face framed by chin-length red hair. There was something wholesome and open about her wide brown eyes that made me like her at once. Kjell introduced her as Margit. The boy, Sven, was standard-issue Norsk—blond, blue-eyed, and with teeth so white they practically glowed in the dark. Margit whispered something, making Sven smile and lean in close to hear the rest.
    Was this some sort of double date? Butterflies in my stomach were stretching their wings, preparing for flight.
    Margit slipped a nylon backpack from her shoulders and set it in the middle of the backseat. The bag was straining at the seams, its taut fabric struggling to swallow something roughly the size and shape of a microwave.
    â€œYou’re joking,” Kjell said, sticking to English. “You aren’t bringing that with us.”
    â€œYou bet I am,” Margit replied. First in Norwegian, then repeating it in English, presumably for my benefit, even though, surprisingly, I’d understood her the first time. She pulled roughly on the zipper until it opened just enough to reveal a bulky electronic box. Then she reached further inside and slipped a smaller