Chapter Eleven: The Twins Reunion
Lyra
Lyra's brows knitted together as she listened to Kayla. Three healers from Camp Half Blood left the previous night with Nico, and now a forth one was going to leave too. Though, she was like young enough to be illiterate, but she still seemed to be pretty powerful. Lyra bit her lip as her brooding reached death con three.
Her thoughts shifted through her head with lighting speed as she closed her eyes. Out of everyone, she was the only one awake when the Valkyrie found them.
The van rolled so many times that a couple of the seats ripped including hers. It flung her forward causing her to hit her head on the ceiling. She unbuckled her seatbelt and fell forward onto a shard of glass. White dots danced across her eyes as numbness rippled through her system. She didn't know how long she lay there, but gradually her survival instincts beat out the shock.
"Skylar?" She blinked several times as she tried to focus on her brother. He was hanging from the ceiling, but something wasn't right. She crawled forward and pushed Trent's head forward. "Trent, wake up, something's wrong with my brother."
No response.
Lyra tried to crawl to the front of the van, but the windshield was blown out and the passenger seat was missing.
It was all just too much for her to process. The world started to spin out of control as her breathing increased.
Above the wreck thunder rumbled, and lighting created a split second long source of light.
Her brother and her friends were hurt… "Please…," she prayed. "I've never asked you for anything in my entire life. Please help us."
A frosty chill enveloped the van as the fog blocked the last fragments of Lyra's visible sight.
Screeches of what sounded like pissed off birds, pieced the air, and a split second the van began to rock as metal scrapped the undercarriage.
Then there was nothing but silence.
Lyra lay there shaking. Her limps ached, and her North Face Oso hoodie soaked up the mix of liquids on the roof of the van. She knew she didn't stand a chance; she was barely able to keep her eyes open and her brain felt like it wanted to ooze out of her skull from all of the pressure.
Lightning flashed and the fog was swept away. Multiple neighs followed by the clanging of metal and the deafening screeches vibrated through the van.
"Is anyone alive in there?" An armor clad female squatted next to the van.
Lyra couldn't tell what she looked like, but each time the lighting struck, her armor lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Yes… please help us." Lyra's eyes rolled as her lids tried to pull themselves shut.
The warrior disappeared as the van rolled over.
Lyra fell back down onto the console in-between the driver and passenger seat. The last thing she remembered was seeing the sliding door being ripped off its hinges.
The moaning broke Lyra's flashback.
"SKYLAR!" Lyra sprinted over to her brother. She threw her arms around his waist and squeezed.
"Ly..ra.. can't… breath!"
Her brother's face was beet red. "Sorry!" She pulled herself off of him, "you're awake! I can't believe it. Do you feel okay? Does your shoulder hurt? Do you remember what happened?"
"Hold the questions." Kayla ran up behind them, "he needs to rest."
Skylar winced as he raised his hand. He wiggled his fingers and frowned. "Was I sleeping on this arm?"
"No," an extremely pale looking Jerry stated, "does it feel like you slept on it?"
He nodded.
"That's a good sign," Jerry smiled.
Lyra glanced over to Kayla. Her brows were knitted together as she studied the air around Skylar. Lyra couldn't put her finger on it but it seemed like Kayla wasn't entirely thrilled that Skylar was doing much better than before.
It took Skylar about a minute for his focus to turn from his arm to his surroundings, but when he finally realized they weren't in back at school he started to ask questions.
Lyra sat next to her brother and quietly spoke to him as Jerry brought Skylar a tray of food. Jerry also placed a small plate of broken up bread on a small night stand several feet away from Skylar's bed. A raven flew out from the golden spear rafters. It plucked at the pieces of bread as the rest of the group broke up into small groups.
Trent and Zillah went outside to Iris message their mom. Kayla and Roxie followed them out to Iris message Camp Half-Blood.
"Skylar, you scared the shit out of me, do you know that?" Lyra whipped the tears off of her cheeks after she finished answering his last question.
He looked down at his empty plate, and shook his head. "I don't know what possessed me to do that, I'm sorry, Sis."
Jerry must have sensed they needed a moment alone, because she picked up his dirty dishes and disappeared.
"As soon as we're near an outlet, I'll zap you and you'll feel as good as new, okay?" She gave him a knowing smile. Her borrowed dagger was pressed securely against her calf with her Ugg boot holding it in place. Sure she should have told the Brenda about it. But uhh… she didn't want Kayla to recognize it and then demand that she hand it over so that she could return it to its rightful owner. That's something Lyra wanted to do herself.
Skylar frowned, "that might give away our little secret." He shrugged and then winced.
The raven flew over to Skylar's cot. It started to pick the fallen bits of crumbs off of his blanket.
"Careful," Lyra bit her lip as she tried to concentrate on the pained look in his eyes. "Mermaid knows," She looked down and sighed.
"She'll turn up, most likely in Greenland or Iceland but she'll find her way home." He gave his sister half a smile.
Lyra raised a blond brow, "what do you know that you're not telling me?"
Skylar rolled his eyes, "water heals her, her nickname is Mermaid, and every time I touch her I'm the one that gets shocked. Hmmm… I wonder what element her godly daddy falls under?"
"Oh yeah, you're right. Still do you really think Sophie…" she shook her head, "never mind that, we have to figure out how to get out of her. I don't know what it is, but something just doesn't feel right."
Skylar slowly nodded in agreement as his gaze fixed on a group of British Dragoons as they played keep away with a Napoleonic soldier's head. The poor ghost stomped his foot, and drew his sword. A Prussian Captain caught the head as it flew across several tables. He marched it back to its rightful owner and placed it on top of its empty shoulders.
"Hmmm… thousands of dead military types partying… yeah, doesn't really feel right either." He didn't dare to smile.
Out of the empty space next to Skylar's cot, the flash of a green long sleeve t-shirt appeared and solidified. "Sorry, to interrupt, but Princess Brenda would like you to join the Diar in Gladsheim."
The raven flew off of the blanket and circled around them before flying outside.
Lyra stood. She moved over to opposite side of the cot to help Skylar put on his boots and coat.
Skylar grinded his teeth and the color drained from his face as he became completely vertical.
"Easy Big Guy. Take a second," Jerry stood on his injured side, "do you think you can walk? I can get one of our horses to carry you."
Lyra knew he wasn't doing too well, but she also knew he didn't want to show any signs of weakness.
"I'll be fine," some of the color returned to his face. His eyes focused on the door and he started to walk while leaning part of his weight on his sister. "What is Gladsheim and the Diar?"
Lyra almost grinned, that was her brother, always trying to think of the next step.
Jerry kept a neutral expression, "You really don't know much about your own ancestry, do you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lyra snapped.
"Oh well…" She cautiously regarded Lyra, "while I was healing Skylar he was speaking in norsk… I assumed you were from Norway."
Lyra felt the heat buildup under her cheeks, "uh… yeah, our mother's family is from there…" She shifted her brother's weight as they walked out of Valhalla. With very little vegetation blocking the her vision, the night sky open to them sparkling with millions of stars that were generally not seen in urban areas Lyra grew up in.
"Anyway, back before the last Ragnarok, twelve of the male gods would meet in the hall known as Gladsheim. They ruled Asgard while Odin wondered. They became known as the Diar or in layman's terms, the judges. Nowadays, we use Gladsheim as our meeting hall since the gods have either died or abandoned us."
"And yet you still collect the spirits of the dead? Why bother?" Lyra's brows knit together.
Jerry shrugged, "we figured that we wouldn't be around if it didn't need to be done." She guided them off the cobble stone path. Right before their feet touched the ground, new stones popped up in a way that prevented them from stepping on the grass.
After several minutes of walking in the dark in that general direction, they worked their way toward a hill. Steps appeared for them allowing them to ascend it without much difficulty.
Lyra inwardly winced as she could feel Skylar's breathing increase. Normally this hill would have been a piece of cake for them to climb, but he wasn't completely recovered yet. "We can stop and rest a bit," she whispered.
"No." Skylar's brow was dripping in sweat.
When they reached the flat portion at the top of the hill, they found a path leading to a small log cabin.
"That's Gladsheim?" Lyra asked.
"Yes, that's Gladsheim. Come along, you don't want to keep the Diar waiting." Jerry disappeared in a flash.
