Page 32 of The Last Valkyrie (Vikingrune Academy #4)

Chapter 32

Ravinica

OVER THE NEXT WEEK , I stuffed down my sorrow and grief and leaned into my tenacity and anger. I trained relentlessly with my mates for hours at a time in the cool spring weather, until we were sweaty and exhausted and collapsed into each other’s arms at night.

The guys noticed my newfound energy, which I said came from a need to do something . To stay busy. It was the only way I was going to keep the gloomy thoughts of my brothers and mother away.

My top priority was finding out what happened to Ma and rescuing her. I needed to be in tip-top shape to do that, which meant more than just spear and runeshaping training.

Hersirs Osfen and Selken were excellent teachers for the finer points of melee combat and magic combat. But they couldn’t help me with one particular skill I had—a unique trait I shared with no one.

I had to figure that one out on my own.

Both sects of elves became situated quickly enough, with the Ljosalfar taking camp just north of Gharvold Hall, in an empty space between the barracks, Tyr Meadow, and Dorymir Hall. They erected tents and camps like they were hoofing it in the wilderness, and I suspected they felt like the academy was one big wildlands.

The Skogalfar, led by Hunter-Chief Jhaeros, were given a small plot of land far to the east on campus, closer to my abode, Eir Wing, and some second-year cadet housing.

If the humans barely trusted the light elves, they looked at the wood elves with outright scorn. Cadets saw them as savages. I noticed the wary, untrusting way my human brethren stared at any passing group of breechcloth-clad Skogalfar, and it made me angry to see.

Some of the women on campus, however, had a slightly different opinion.

On my way to the western gate on the third day of my weeklong manic training sprint, I overheard two female initiates conversing as a pair of tall, bronze-hued wood elves passed us on the other side of the path.

Leaning in to her friend, the blonde girl with the shorn sides said, “Hot, aren’t they?”

Her brunette friend giggled. “If it weren’t for the stigma of cross-species birthing, I wouldn’t mind making some half-elf babies with those barbarians.”

Gritting my teeth together, I stayed quiet as I walked behind them, eager to get around them once the pathway widened up ahead.

“Kind of nice you can see what each one is packing inside those tiny loincloths, huh?” the blonde one said.

Another giggle from the brunette. “Saw one the other day, Sar, and I swear his towel didn’t even cover the whole thing! He was poking out the bottom of it, oblivious and just rocking it.”

They laughed, and I fumed.

The objectification annoyed me. More than that, it was the way I’d heard so many of my human “comrades” speaking about the Ljosalfar and Skogalfar like they were subhuman. They weren’t human, sure, but they weren’t sub anything.

“Enough, initiates. They’re not pieces of meat to ogle, and they’re not barbarians. They’re people, like us, and they’re our allies. Treat them with some respect.”

I wondered if I was out of my depth saying such a thing, and while the brunette looked at me with a pale face, the blonde one glared and scrunched her nose.

“And what makes you the arbiter of who I can ogle, eavesdropper?” She put her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you the girl who famously has five guys on her roster? Pot calling the kettle black, no?”

They stormed off after that, with the brunette cackling at the burn her friend had given me.

I scratched the back of my head, muttering to myself, “Fair play, bitch,” as they walked away.

The next day, it was a similar conversation I heard from a group of boys regarding a passing troop of five Ljosalfar heading for one of the cafeterias.

I should have kept my big mouth shut then, too, but this one seemed too dangerous to ignore.

The first guy scoffed at the passing Ljosalfar in their gold armor and proud posture. “You believe this shit, Dairn? Whose cock did we have to suck to get them to help us?”

“What are they getting out of it, huh?” Dairn answered.

A third man chipped in. “Too many questions, boys. I don’t like any of it.”

The first guy helped rile them up, saying, “What’s stopping them from waiting to help us when the time comes, until the dark pointy-ears wipe us out, so the light pointy-ears can take our academy and claim it as their own?”

“Probably after the whole Isle, knowing the fucking elves,” Dairn said too loudly.

I stepped in front of them, against my better judgment, folding my arms over my chest. I felt a bit naked without my mates with me, heading toward the western gate again.

The trio stopped, brows rising apprehensively. They knew who I was—everyone did at this point.

“They’re not going to do that,” I said calmly, almost threateningly.

“How do you know, giant-slayer?” Dairn asked. He was a tall, lanky Viking with runes tattooed on the right side of his neck.

“Because I’ve lived with them. Dined with them. Fought with them.”

“Fucked them, too, the way I hear it.”

I fought down the surge of exasperation. Fucking dunce. If any of my guys had been here to hear this cadet speak to me in such a way . . .

It’s sort of freeing not having them smother me with their protectiveness sometimes, honestly.

Ignoring his intentionally coaxing words, I said, “The elves are honorable people. Soldiers like us. They’re here because they know their realm is next if the Dokkalfar and jotnar destroy Midgard. Call it mutually-assured survival, if you want.”

The trio grumbled, sharing looks that said they weren’t anywhere close to being convinced.

“You trying to speak for all humans when you say stuff like that?” Dairn asked. This time, it wasn’t said with spite—he actually sounded genuine.

I thought about it for a moment. My ego wasn’t big enough to think that I spoke for all humans . . . But maybe it’s not the worst thing if I do. Kelvar asked if I would speak for the Hersirs, to try and unify the cadets in ways that they can’t, being their superiors.

Maybe it was time to give that a try.

“I don’t speak for everyone, Dairn,” I said. “But I’m especially qualified to judge the Ljosalfar, for all the reasons we both just said.”

He snorted. “So you’re special, you’re saying?”

“I am.”

“How?”

The idea came to me in a flash, a light bulb going off in my head. “Come to the Cliffs of Dorymir tomorrow and I’ll show you.”

His lips pursed. He glanced at his two buddies to the right and left of him, clearly confused.

I hoped my vague, cryptic invitation would have him thinking for the rest of the night. It was satisfying seeing his mind ticking from righteous indignation to confusion to curiosity.

“Fine,” Dairn said. “Game on, giant-slayer.”

I smiled as they walked past me, Dairn making sure to shoulder-check me on his way by.

Now I just need to make sure to put on a show worthy of my cryptic invitation.

Every night near sundown, after finishing training with my guys, I hit the western gates before meeting them for dinner in one of the mess halls.

My reason for being here was always the same. I would watch the gates from a distance as they opened, letting in the scouts sent out from that morning. I would follow them to Kelvar the Whisperer’s office, near the jailhouse and Hersir Jorthyr’s jurisdiction.

We had to know where the Dokkalfar were and what they were doing. I needed to stay abreast of what was happening in the Isle outside these walls.

As the four scouts left the office longhouse of the spymaster, I waltzed in and propped up against the frame of the door. “Well?”

Kelvar’s head whipped up, gray eyes narrowing. “Do you get off on startling me, Lindeen?”

I smiled. “I’ll take it as a compliment that I’m startling the Whisperer, the stealthiest man at the academy.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting old. My knees are making more noise than my boots these days.”

My smile turned crooked at his self-deprecation. Though there was a bit of gray in his long, straight black hair, he wasn’t looking worse for wear. Maybe a few more dark circles under his eyes, but I knew he’d been up against it in Fort Woden every day, verbally sparring with other Hersirs for hours at a time.

“It’s the Hersirs running you ragged, sir, not me,” I pointed out.

“Too true.” He stood with a grunt, circled his desk, and joined me as we walked out into the hallway. He held a folder under his arm.

“What’s that?” I gestured at the folder.

“Final tally sheet. Should be decided tonight.”

I gulped audibly. The vote for new Gothi.

Gods, why did it make me so nervous wondering who might take over Sigmund Calladan’s vacant position? There was literally nothing I could do about it. If there was one thing above my pay grade at the academy, it was this.

“What news beyond the walls?” I asked, desperately needing a subject change.

“ Yellow Wraith was spotted far north, docked near the other side of Telvos.”

“Beyond the mountains?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” The surly spymaster grunted with a tired look in my direction.

“Damn.” I worried my lip. “Too close to the jotnar for us to do anything about it, huh?”

“ Do anything ?” He barked a laugh. “Just what would we do ? These were scouting missions, and always meant to be.”

I shrugged as we walked toward the northwest cafeteria, where I would meet my mates and split off from Kelvar as he headed to Fort Woden. “I dunno, try to steal back the Yellow ? It’s not theirs.”

He said something under his breath, clearly frustrated at the whole situation. “Moot point. Too dangerous, like you said.”

“Anything else we should know?”

He stopped walking, facing me fully. His gaunt features softened for a flash. “If you’re wondering if there’s news about your mother, Ravinica, no, there isn’t. I’m sorry.” He gently put his palm on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Help train the cadets and do things within you purview. You’re important to this academy, but all this worrying will get you nowhere. Focus on the battle ahead.”

“I can’t stop worrying, Kelvar. She’s my mother.”

A tiny, sad smile split across his face for a heartbeat. “I know, lass. We’ll do everything we can to get her back once we figure out Korvan’s whereabouts. Lindi is important to this academy too, in case you didn’t know.”

I was starting to get that impression once Gothi Sigmund talked to her about their past relationship. As I nodded glumly and turned to walk away, his voice stopped me.

“I’ve heard rumblings of unrest sifting through the academy,” he called out. “Can you do anything to mitigate it?”

I nodded firmly. “Already have a plan, Whisperer.”

“Good.”

We parted ways.

At the doors of the cafeteria, Randi and Dagny waited for me, impatiently tapping their feet.

“Thank Odin,” Dagny drawled as I arrived. “I’m starving, bestie. What did you need?”

“After you two eat, I have a favor to ask,” I said. “A mission.”

“Can we call this mission a quest?” Randi asked, lifting her dark brow. “I love quests. Missions sound more . . . corporate.”

I smiled at the rambunctious cadet. Her hair had purple ends—a mixture of the blue and red she’d been rocking the past few months.

“Yeah, me too,” Dag said, rubbing her belly. “I like quests to find food, especially.”

I put my hands on their shoulders. “Round up as many initiates and cadets as you can find, please. Tell them there’s going to be a surprise everyone will want to see tomorrow night at sunset, at the Cliffs of Dorymir.”

They looked at each other.

“I’ll go through my Rolodex,” Randi said, saluting like a military commander.

I chuckled, surprised she even knew what a Rolodex was. She obviously came from an old-school family.

“What kind of surprise are we talking, Rav?” Dagny asked. “Is it a concert?”

I beamed, my eyes twinkling. “Oh, there will be music, Dag. I promise.”

I just hoped it was going to be a triumphant symphony and not a funeral requiem.