Page 43 of Blood of Ancients (Vikingrune Academy #3)

Chapter 43

Ravinica

IT TOOK A MOMENT FOR me to realize weight had lifted from my shoulders. Literally. I glanced back and saw my wings were gone. Where they’d gone, I had no clue. The skin they’d sprouted from was not scarred or bloody—it remained pale, unblemished, though the clothes I wore had ripped where the wings had been.

Noticing where my eyes went, and the confused pout on my face, Grim said, “The wings vanished a moment before you opened your eyes, love.”

“I take it they’re not lost forever?” Sven wondered.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t think so. I can feel them inside me now, in my spirit. It’s hard to explain.”

What I recognized I could enter the wintry landscape of my mind whenever I wanted now. That narrow valley passage between the mountains—it was the anchor I needed to pull at my magic and summon my wings.

As usual, Elayina had been right. I simply needed to focus, listen to my body, and I would know how to use them when I needed them.

Arne said, “The wings aren’t gone forver, but Elayina is, isn’t she?”

His voice was forlorn, eyes stuck on Elayina’s peaceful, resting body. I could tell he was not only thinking of the Ancient One in that moment, but had another recent wound he needed to grieve.

Arne hadn’t had a chance to mourn Frida’s death, because we’d kept his mind from it with our extraplanar travel and raucous sex and Elayina.

All five of us could tell, with simple expressions on our faces, that our time in Alfheim was nearing its end.

I had not finished what I set out to do—unifying the Ljosalfar and humans. It would be a lengthy process, I knew, and one that could take months, years. Rivalries and loathing did not simply wash away overnight, no matter how powerful I had become.

“Interesting,” Grim said, pulling at his beard, “Elayina was the only elf here to know you are dragonkin, little sneak.”

My brow furrowed, trying to understand his point. I was still lost in a hazy dreamlike feeling after my jouney with Elayina. I had seen a goddess for fuck’s sake—an actual, flesh-and-blood deity and spirit. The warrioress my people prayed to and had worshipped for centuries.

It was not lost on me how special and important that had been. I wished I could have taken my mates with me on that quest through the sky.

Sven picked up Grim’s meaning and grunted. “It means we can leave without raising a ruckus. Since no one else here knows the truth of you.”

Corym wiped tears from his eyes and took a deep breath. “True, wolf, and wise. Sadly, I fear we have lost our voucher with the loss of the Anvari . I cannot say with any certainty I trust the rest of my people in Heira. Not now—not with Ravinica with us.”

“I’m still wearing the pretty dress,” I pointed out, then pouted as I looked over my shoulder again. “A bit in tatters in spots, but still.”

Corym draped an arm over my shoulder, holding me close. “My brethren did look at you differently in that garb, didn’t they?” He let out a hum. “Then perhaps we haven’t overstayed our welcome after all.”

“No, I think we have,” Grim muttered. “I feel it.”

As much as I would have liked to stay in Alfheim for weeks, to get accustomed to its beauty, learn the customs and culture of this elven nation, lose myself . . . it wasn’t possible.

It wouldn’t be honoring Elayina’s memory. It would be wasting it.

“We need to return to Vikingrune Academy,” I said with a heavy sigh. “There are things afoot in the Isle we can’t turn our backs on. Dokkalfar running amok, conspiracies in the academy.”

“We return, then,” Sven said with a firm nod. “But we return as champions, not scared whelps worried about rocking the longship.”

I agreed with a nod. “Yes. Things must be different when we return. We have to make a splash if we want change.” I looked around at my four men, feeling the weight of the one missing, and frowned at them. “Which means we’re opening ourselves up to danger and hurt. We don’t know what’s been going on the week we’ve been gone, or how we’ll be received. Hel below, we don’t even know if we’ve been gone a week.”

The boys snickered.

I lost my smile and put on another serious face. “Are we all in agreement?”

Nods came from the half-circle of men. They eyed each other, resolute in our joint decision, and then finished by studying me, together.

“Then let’s go find Magnus and Kelvar and get the fuck out of here, back to where we belong.”

“You are what ?” Magnus asked, his eyes big as saucers.

He seemed . . . changed. More expressive since we’d separated from him after our lewd excursion in Mi’lifair Home.

It appeared speaking with Hersir Kelvar had opened him up somehow, clearing his gray eyes and making him see things differently.

“Dragonkin, she called it,” I said, crossing my arms with an expectant bob to my brows. “Pretty neat, huh?”

“ Neat ? More like astonishing and surreal, silvermoon.” He shot me a sharp smile and shook his head. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised. I always knew you were special.”

I snorted. “Yeah, okay, but special as in she-has-dragon-wings special?”

“Touché.”

We were back in the spring-hold—the main room, because we couldn’t dally. Kelvar was well enough to travel, he said, though he still favored his right side and walked with a bit of a limp. The Whisperer promised he wouldn’t slow us down, and agreed we needed to get back to Vikingrune.

I filled them in on the death of Elayina, and everything she had told me. Even though I knew Kelvar would be reporting everything I said to Gothi Sigmund, it didn’t matter anymore. Communication and understanding was going to be key in the coming months.

Before I could unite the elves and humans, I needed to get my people on the same page, first. I couldn’t have Lepers Who Leapt trying to kill Huscarls trying to kill elves trying to kill students, or any combination of that.

We needed to be a unified front on all things, which meant, begrudgingly, Gothi Sigmund needed to know what was going on outside the academy’s walls.

Still, as we prepared to leave, I asked, “What will you tell the Gothi, Hersir?”

Kelvar looked up from the bed where he was leaned over strapping on his boots. He blinked at me, his gray eyes seeming calmer and more at peace than they ever had before.

Seems both of these men got the answers they were looking for.

I’m glad for it.

“I’m not sure yet,” he said after a long pause. Then he shrugged. “I’ll have you and your group by my side, so I suppose we can tell him together.”

I made a face, impressed. “You mean you’re not going to try to scheme and hide things from us? You’re going to involve us—the cadets?”

Kelvar smirked and stood, stretching with a wince. “Yes, that is what I mean, Ravinica Lindeen.”

There it is again. Lindeen. That’s more like it.

He had a snarky smile on his face, full of knowing.

It wasn’t that I needed to control anything and everyone around me. I knew Hersir Kelvar was as uncontrollable as they came—a true solitary presence who only had the academy’s best interest at heart.

But it was exactly that aspect—his loyalty to Vikingrune—that made me want to be on the same page as him. Because we would need him, too, if we were going to reshape the academy.

I wanted to trust the Whisperer. After his talk with Magnus—after saving Magnus—I got the sense that I could.

Sven let out a heavy sigh, scanning the large room and the giant windows that looked out to the first level of Alokana City. “Can’t believe I’m saying it, but I’ll miss this place.”

I was just as surprised as him to hear those words. Sven, maybe more than anyone, had resisted the truth about the Ljosalfar when I told it to him.

It was hard to fathom that your entire existence and everything you knew about someone was a lie. That was exactly how it was with Vikingrune’s relationship with the elves—and humans at large. We were only enemies with the elves because our school had instructed us to be. For generations, it was what we’d been taught.

Now the six of us—seven, if you included the newest secret member of our club, Kelvar the Whisperer—were going to fight against all odds to try and change our people’s way of thinking.

Grim shouldered Sven, the huge man making the muscled wolf shifter stumble. “You’re just going to miss the hot springs, Torfen.”

Everyone chuckled, and Sven was the last to let a smile split across his gorgeous face. He shot some side-eye toward the closed door leading into the springs. “Well, I can’t deny that , Kollbjorn.”

Kelvar muttered, “I don’t even want to know what deplorable things you’re reminiscing about. I was your age once too, and if it’s anything like my day . . . you’d best keep that shit from these old ears.”

Our laughter grew, and we held onto it for a few more seconds, cherishing our shared company, before we left our holiday home away from home.

Zentha waited for us outside, four gold-armored guards around her. Our group stiffened, hands inching toward the hilts of our weapons in the doorway.

Then she saluted us, and the guards bowed.

We relaxed.

Zentha’s face was pristine, yet I could see the divots and glassy sheen where she had been crying recently.

Lady Elayina’s death was a great loss to all of us, but none moreso than the Ljosalfar themselves. Unlike us humans, who couldn’t fathom the rhyme or reason for Elayina’s passing, Zentha did not wallow. She accepted it, because it was as common among her people as breathing.

Zentha told us on the way out, “It’s what every Ljosalfar strives for, you know. Managing to die peacefully in your bed, making the trek to the golden shore.” She bowed her head.

I knew where her thoughts were—undoubtedly thinking about the friends and loved ones she’d lost to battle, to the Dokkalfar, to anything but a peaceful death.

And I knew Zentha spoke true. Elayina really was one of the lucky ones, when you look at it that way.

I put a hand on her arm, trying to console her. “She got there safely, Zentha. I made sure of it.” When she looked over, my lips curled in a tiny smile.

“Aye, I know, maelen .” She flared her nostrils, fighting back another wave of tears.

Corym tried his hand at easing her pain by putting a hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezing. “It is all right to be filled with sorrow at her passing, regardless. Just because Elayina left us peacefully doesn’t make her passing any less sad.” He smild at her, like me. “It is okay to grieve, Zentha E’lain. You should not be ashamed of it.”

Zentha sighed and nodded. “Thank you, Prince.”

She brought us to the elevator that would bring us to the forest floor. Stopping as we got on, she struck her customary pose—hands clasped together, over the front of her blue handmaid’s dress.

“You have a resting place here in Heira, should you ever need it, Company of the Ancients. Thank you for returning our Anvari to us.”

I smiled to her as the elevator wheel started to crank and squeal, bringing us down, down, past the lip of the ridge.

Good, I thought. Because I have a feeling we’re going to need all the help we can get.

This won’t be the last time we’re in Alfheim. And next time, we won’t have the protection of Lady Elayina’s presence to shield us.