Free Secrets of Valhalla by Jasmine Richards

and get you some water.”
    â€œThanks.” Buzz slipped onto his stool, watching his father’s movements as he went over to the fridge. They seemed tense and wooden. He felt the pinprick of Tia’s gaze on him and he turned to face her.
    â€œWhat’s up with you, Buzz?” his sister asked.
    â€œGood morning to you as well.”
    â€œThat’s not an answer.” Tia looked upset.
    Buzz stared at his sister, noticing that she was wearing her sequin-encrusted A-Team T-shirt again. Since when does Tia ever wear an outfit two days in a row?
    â€œI’m fine, Tia. I was just a bit surprised that Dad was making pancakes for the second day on the trot.” He shrugged. “I thought Mum had gotten home early, that’s all.”
    Tia played with the silverware next to her plate. Hercheeks had lost color. “Why do you keep saying that?”
    â€œSaying what?” Buzz tried to push down his rising irritation. Why were Tia and Dad acting so strangely?
    Maybe crazy is catching, a bitter inner voice answered.
    â€œAbout Mum getting home early,” Tia snapped. “At best it’s cruel and at worst you’re deluded. Buzz, we haven’t heard anything from her in months.” She shook her head. “And as much as it might pain you to admit it—Dad has been making us pancakes every Saturday since Mum left because he is doing the best he can. You’re trying to wind him up and I don’t think it’s fair.”
    Buzz’s skin began to prickle into goose bumps. “Tia, Mum called us yesterday. We were sitting right here having breakfast. Dad was making pancakes.”
    Tia threw her hands up in exasperation. “Yesterday, I had a piece of toast and met Marissa at seven forty-five on the corner. You were late for school—goodness knows why but I bet it had something to do with my hair dye—I don’t even want to know.” She pointed a finger at him. “Buzz, whatever joke you’re trying out here—quit it, okay? It’s mean.”
    â€œIt’s not a joke,” Buzz shot back. “Mum called. She called the house. You spoke to her.”
    That worried, creased line was back between Tia’s eyes, and she fixed her gaze at his temple. “How’d you hurt your head?”
    â€œI told you already, after school I was in Tangley—”
    With a clatter, Buzz’s father placed a plate of pancakeson the counter. “Your brother got lost in Tangley Woods yesterday and tripped and hit his head.” He nodded at Buzz. “Eat up while they’re still hot,” he insisted. But the Prof’s eyes said something else. Do not tell Tia about yesterday.
    A rush of déjà vu blasted through Buzz, so strong that it slammed the breath out of him. This conversation had happened yesterday—exactly like this.
    â€œAre you sure you’re okay?” Tia asked her brother. “You don’t look so good.”
    Buzz heard the question and tried to grab hold of it but it slipped further away as he spotted a newspaper folded on the breakfast bar. Eleanor Bright’s eyes looked out at him from the inky page, and above her picture was a familiar headline:
    â€œWeatherwoman Mystery Deepens. Fog Over Disappearance Refuses to Lift.”
    The date at the top of the page said Saturday, September 14, but there was no chocolate sauce on the newspaper’s front page—not a drop.
    Dizzy, he took a deep breath, but it didn’t work—the world still spun around him.
    â€œI took him to the doctor yesterday,” he heard the Prof say. “She said that he just needed rest, but maybe we should go back to the hospital.”
    â€œI’m fine,” Buzz said as the world swung back into focus. “Just remind me what day it is?”
    â€œSaturday,” Tia and the Prof said at once. They were both looking at him in concern.
    â€œSaturday,” Buzz echoed. Saturday for the second