Sessi and the Race to Odin (A Sessi Nilsson Novel Book 2) Read online

  We stop long enough to hear one of the muffled voices say, “What was that?” but start moving as quickly as possible slamming the door shut and dashing down the hallway. We move so fast we don’t wait to see if Tyron or Anderson comes down the stairs, nor do we stop for Fester when he emerges from his office only a second after we dash by. It’s one of those moments when you know it will come back to haunt you in some way, but making the decision to face the consequences in the moment doesn’t rank high enough to stop and fess up.

  We didn’t really do anything wrong. I didn’t want to have to interact with Fester, which has to be a common sentiment considering the location of his closet. So, all we did was go a different way than we normally do. The more I think about it, the more I’m able to rationalize that maybe we opened the giant door and went up the stairs because we thought it was an alternate route back to Percival Hall, our dorm which I cleverly modified to Personal Hell. Admittedly, that’s pretty far from the truth compared to the places I lived before coming to Park Sessions Prep. I know that none of what I’m telling myself about the alternate route is true, but I concoct the story in my head in preparation for when I’m called to revisit Dr. Tyron’s office. I probably should brief Sebastian on my line of thought, so we tell the same stories.

  We burst from the hallway into the main entry of the school like we’ve escaped from the bowels of a gassy dragon, and slide across the newly waxed floor. “That was close!” I exclaim with an eruption of laughter.

  Sebastian doesn’t share my same enthusiasm and he barks, “We didn’t escape. Mr. Vester saw us. And not just on camera. Plus, he probably records the video. I was hoping we were done cleaning the bathrooms, but once Dr. Tyron discovers it was us eavesdropping, he’s going to assign another week or worse.”

  “That’s why we need to get our stories straight.”

  Sebastian just rolls his eyes and starts walking away.

  “We just need to tell them we were lost. We thought that would take us back to Percival.” I definitely need to work on my delivery, because as I speak it and hear it out loud, even I don’t believe it. I run to catch up with Sebastian. “Are you mad at me?”

  Sebastian grunts. It’s kind of cute, which makes me spit-take a laugh, which comes out dry because I have nothing to spit. I don’t intend to make him mad, or in this case madder, but I do; indicated by his increased pace.

  “How about a smile?” I ask, stopping and waiting for him to turn and look at me. He doesn’t. Instead, he continues to walk away methodically. He doesn’t quite stomp, but there’s definitely an emphasis on his feet pounding down on the ground with each step. And after a moment he is gone, blending in with a crowd of kids.

  I continue to watch even though I can’t see him anymore. I guess I keep thinking he’ll turn around and come back. Maybe he thinks I’ll continue after him. Instead, while I strain to see around or through the crowd, I hear, “There you are.”

  I turn to see Anderson coming toward me. My mind scrambles trying to remember, what’s that story I’m going with?

  2

  A Charmed Life

  Anderson is all smiles as he approaches, which I hope is a good sign because I’m expecting him to accuse me of eavesdropping.

  “I spoke with Dr. Tyron, and you’re relieved of duty.”

  “Relieved of doody duty?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I can tell Anderson doesn’t appreciate my potty mouth. Even the clean kind. “You no longer need to report to Mr. Vester starting Monday. He’s asked that I supervise you and Sebastian, which I assume is a more acceptable arrangement.”

  Of course, it’s more acceptable. Any supervisor would be more acceptable than Uncle Fester, but I’m suspicious now of what angle Anderson is working, considering he sounded so chummy with Dr. Tyron on the other side of the door at the top of the hidden stairway. “How’d you work that out?”

  “I told him you excelled at plant care and had found a positive outlet for your energy by assisting me with the care of Yggy and the forest.”

  “You didn’t happen to mention how I’m chummy with a giant wolf and a blonde raven, did you?”

  Anderson smiles. “Some secrets are meant to be kept.”

  “So, can I come down to your house tomorrow and practice my axe throwing?”

  “I think that would be a good idea. I also think we should work on some other fighting skills. Conquering Hel was only the beginning.”

  I can’t even imagine things getting worse than what we had to do to conquer Hel. Who’s next, and what can a couple teenagers and a PhD. in forestry do to stop larger armies of jotnar, draugar, and wolves? Sure, we succeeded against Hel, but what if we come up against Loki? I feel like I’m going to need more than my axes and martial arts. “What about magic?”

  “I can’t help much there. Addy has a book at the house. We can take a look when you come by tomorrow.”

  I smile at the thought of an education I can finally get excited about. I’ve had enough of sitting on my butt in a classroom. Studying fighting and magic sounds like something I can actually use in my life. Especially if I want my life to continue.

  “Why don’t you stop by around noon. Addy said she wanted to make a nice lunch. Maybe bring Sebastian? He’s part of the team.”

  “Yeah, if he’s not still mad at me,” I respond before realizing that the reason he’s mad is because I made him go up the stairs; followed by a mad dash to escape.

  “He’s mad at you?” Anderson asks.

  I wait for the rest of the question. Something like What did you do or Were you someplace you shouldn’t be? Instead, Anderson just shrugs it off.

  “I’m sure he’ll get over it by tomorrow,” he says and turns to leave. Looking back, he says, “See you tomorrow.”

  I nod and wave with a flip of my hand. It’s kind of funny how after the adventure through Svart Tunnland, the catacombs, and Niflheim, I expect something disastrous to happen that will force me to jump into action. Instead, our dash from the stairway and my interaction with Anderson result in nothing but a lunch invitation. All I can say to myself is Don’t get used to it.

  I spend Friday night by myself doing absolutely nothing. I don’t hear from Sebastian which surprises me a little bit, but I figure he needs his space. I’m surprised he’s lasted this long as a friend. Maybe I’ve finally pushed the right friend-eject button. The image in my mind of Sebastian flying through the air, arms and legs flailing makes me smile. Not because I’ve lost a friend, but the thought is just funny.

  As I lie on my bed experiencing one of my moody teen moments, I catch a glint of light from my dresser. It’s something that has been there since the day I moved in and unpacked my two suitcases filled with everything I owned. I’d placed it there on the dresser without any real thought. So why it catches my attention now is unexplainable. Hopping out of bed, I cross to the twinkle of light and remember everything. It’s a charm on my bracelet. The one with a diamond so small it’s hard to say that the sparkle is actually from the rock or the sterling silver surrounding it.

  I pick it up from the top of my dresser and inspect the charms as I return to my bed. My dad gave me the bracelet after my mom was taken and said the charm with the small diamond was to always remind me of my mom. Until that moment I’d forgotten that the charm was that of a raven with the diamond as its eye. I look at the other charms; a crescent moon, a heart, and a key. Sliding the bracelet over my hand for the first time in three years, I’m surprised it still fits and feel glad that I’d shown restraint a few years back and didn’t toss it out like so many other things that held my memories.

  I lay down and hold my hand in the air and admire the sparkles from my wrist. I’m not much of a jewelry girl, but the bracelet comforts me as I close my eyes and drift off.

  I know I should appreciate the opportunity to get some uninterrupted sleep, but coming back to real life has left me on edge. I find myself jerking awake in the middle of the night whether it’s because Hel has imprisoned me in
Niflheim and Nidhogg is about to devour me, or I’m about to be bitten by the giant gray wolf. My worst nightmare though is where Stark, my giant white wolf, turns on me and rips my throat out. That one is particularly harrowing because not only is it Stark that betrays me, but it’s especially bloody as he severs my jugular.

  But tonight, for some reason, I’m more at peace. Could it be because I’ll finally be able to get away from the main campus and experience the people and places that made this place feel more like a home with some sort of family? I would have never imagined it possible after experiencing the darkness of my mother and father’s deaths. Now I’m living with some morsel of hope glimmering like a little star that things will be okay. It’s hard at this age to be able to see much further than what is happening in the present. I’d like to think that I told myself over the years that everything would be all right, but I know my newly developed reputation for rule breaking was a direct result of my feelings of abandonment and inability to feel secure in my relationships. Now that little star of hope shines brighter every day knowing there is a possibility of my mother really being alive. I also find hope in my canine protector and the friends that I’ve made.

  So now, I sleep. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like.

  Saturday arrives and the sun is hidden by either clouds or a marine layer creeping in from the Pacific that makes everything look gray and dreary. Sometimes it burns off by midday, but other times it just hangs around casting melancholy all over the place. The gloomy colorlessness is not the best mood setter, at least not for good moods; but I’m hopeful that it’ll dissipate. Whatever it does, I don’t really care. I just want to throw my axes. The adrenalin rush I get from heaving a twirling axe and the satisfying sound of the “thunk” when the axe head imbeds into the tree cross-section target is impossible to describe. Pretty silly, I know.

  I do very little to get ready, pulling my hair back and adding a light dusting of makeup; base, blush, eyes, and lips. I toss on a pair of dirty jeans that I’d thrown in my closet at some point in the last couple weeks and slip on a Pearl Jam T-shirt with a light jacket over top. Before I can step into my shoes, I hear a knock at my door. There’s something about an anonymous, unexpected knock that makes me uneasy. And if the school chintzed on anything, it’s the obvious oversight of putting peep holes in the doors. I don’t know what it is, but the sound of a knock at my door always makes me want to find an alternate exit, which in this case is the window. After all I’ve been through recently, I feel like I have to always be on my guard for the next mythological oddity to attack. That means I’m pretty much suspicious of everyone.

  Instead of just opening the door, I take the safer route and ask, “Who is it?”

  There’s a moment of silence on the other side of the door which leads me to start mentally preparing for an all-out assault from a wolf. Of course, that makes no sense because wolves don’t knock. Finally, I hear a reply, “It’s me.”

  That’s all the voice says, but this is an easy one to decipher. Sebastian. Now the question is whether he’s being forced to draw me out by an evil band of… Okay, this is ridiculous. It’s just Sebastian, so I open the door.

  “Hey.” I say remembering that the last time I saw him he was in a huff. “Still pissy?”

  “No, but I had every right to be.”

  “Don’t complain to me. From the very beginning you knew what you were signing up for by hanging out with me. I gave you every warning that I was nothing but trouble. More trouble than even I knew.”

  Sebastian has no response because he knows I’m right.

  “I aim to please,” I tell him with a sinister smile.

  “Put your shoes on and let’s go.” Sebastian says it with a tone that clearly indicates he is still mad even though he says he isn’t. For some reason this makes me just a little happier. Apparently, I’ve finally gotten to him even if it is just a little.

  Walking to Anderson and Addy’s contains very little conversation. Usually I’m the one who wants things quiet and Sebastian won’t shut up. This time, for some reason, I try to engage Sebastian in simple conversation. Things like, “Crazy weather,” “I hate cleaning toilets,” and “How ‘bout them Cubs?” I don’t really know anything about the Cubs. Baseball, right? I’d just heard someone say that one time. No matter, Sebastian isn’t willing to bite, so we walk in silence.

  Approaching the house, I can see Sommarmorgon, my blonde raven, circling overhead. I stop and watch her as she catches air drifts that lift her higher into the sky. Gracefully she glides in playful revolutions until she tucks her wings and dives in our directions. Like a bullet, she cuts through the air as she quickly approaches the ground only to pull out of her dive and whizz by us like a powerfully chilling gust of wind. My smile lights my entire face as I turn to watch her fly by. Sebastian ducks.

  Continuing to Anderson and Addy’s house, we skip going to the front door and walk around to the back of the house. Whether it’s habit or what just feels right. It makes less sense on this visit since we’re having lunch, and with the foggy weather and dampness in the air, we’ll probably be dining inside. Nevertheless, we go around back and knock on the sliding door. Actually, Sebastian knocks. I press my face against the window and peer in.

  “Cut that out,” Sebastian snaps. “You can’t just peek in people’s windows.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, what if they’re…” Sebastian doesn’t quite know how to delicately say it. “You know…”

  I let him struggle for a moment.

  “You know...,” he starts again. “What if they’re in a compromising position.”

  Laughter explodes from my mouth. I can’t control it. “They know we’re coming. If there’s something compromising going on, that’s on them.”

  Again, Sebastian knows I’m right and doesn’t respond.

  Addy slides open the door with a joyous, “Hi, guys! I hope you like potatoes. I made an Irish stew.”

  Other than the traditional response greeting, I’m not sure how to respond. I’ve already exhausted my knowledge of Irish stew with Addy’s hint that it contains potatoes, so I say, “Yum!”

  Sebastian takes Addy’s morsel of information and asks, “Is this a secret family recipe passed down through generations?”

  She smiles at Sebastian with a look that appears to accuse him of being so naïve. “No, it’s from the Betty Crocker Cookbook,” she says and turns to return to the kitchen.

  Sebastian’s not sure how to take Addy’s response, so he looks at me and asks, “Is she messing with me?”

  “Let’s go with that,” I respond because to tell the truth, I really don’t know either. All I’ve ever seen her make is a sandwich, and even I can do that.

  As Addy disappears, Stark comes bounding into the room practically knocking Sebastian over to get to me. I throw my arms around his neck and am lifted off the ground as he swings me in a circle. “Hi, boy. How are you?” He wipes his massive tongue across my face, leaving a trail of slobber. It’s hard not to think of him as just a regular pet dog. He’s like my own Clifford the Big Red Dog dressed in white.

  Anderson enters with a pitcher of lemonade and starts pouring it into the glasses set at the table. “Come on over and have a seat. Addy’s got everything ready.” He points us to a couple chairs which must be the two that aren’t normally used when it’s just the two of them. I assume most families are that way, where everyone has an assigned seat at the dinner table. At least that’s the way it was when my mom and dad were alive. As I think about that, I wonder if what my dad said is true, that my mom is still alive, meaning my next challenge is to find her.

  While I’m deep in thought, Sebastian must have been exploring Addy’s cooking skills with Anderson. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the message and am left to fend for myself when it comes to helping myself to a heaping bowl of the stew. Only after filling my bowl to the brim do I notice that Sebastian has hardly taken any. I check Anderson’s bowl which is as full as mine
, but that doesn’t tell me anything. He has an obligation to eat whatever Addy serves.

  I’m hesitant to take a bite. For some reason in my mind this is more dangerous than facing a blood-thirsty giant wolf. Slowly I raise a spoon to my mouth with a small portion of the stew. I pretend like I’m blowing on it to cool it off when I’m really trying to get a closer look and sniff. The contents look like potatoes, carrots, onions, and some kind of meat. Maybe I should be concerned about the mystery meat, but sometimes the less I know the better.

  Anderson can see that I’m faking the cooling process and says, “It’s squirrel,” which results in Sebastian doing a spit take of the bite he’s inserted in his mouth.

  “Anderson!” Addy protests as she gets up from the table. “It isn’t squirrel, not that there’s anything wrong with squirrels, but this is Irish stew, which calls for beef or lamb. I’ll get something to clean that up with,” she says as she casts another scornful look at Anderson.

  Anderson looks over his shoulder to make sure Addy has left the room. “It might as well be squirrel. Addy’s a lot of great things, but a cook is not one. Don’t feel obligated to eat much.”

  “Now you tell me,” I say.

  “I tried to warn you. Weren’t you listening?”

  “Obviously not.” I take my bowl from the table and offer some to Stark who is lying next to me, but he just buries his nose under his paw. “A lot of help you are,” I tell him. Setting the bowl back on my place setting, I figure I should get the initial pain over with before Addy returns in case I have some horrible gag reflex. Slowly, I slurp the broth as Anderson and Sebastian watch. The flavor rolls across my taste buds, and I realize it’s okay. In fact, it’s better than okay. I’m probably not the best judge of food considering for the last year I’ve existed mainly on school food. The idea that it’s homemade may just be enough to satisfy. “It’s actually pretty good.”