Page 35 of The Last Valkyrie (Vikingrune Academy #4)

Chapter 35

Ravinica

THE VIBES WERE MUCH different leaving Dorymir Hall than they’d been coming here. An hour ago, spirits had been lifted, smiles were making their rounds, and things seemed hopeful.

Now we were in a worse place than when we’d started. For everything I hated about Gothi Sigmund, and how he had wanted me dead and had spied on me essentially my entire life, I knew he’d had the survival of Vikingrune Academy in his heart. Vikingrune had consumed his thoughts and dictated his every move before his untimely, abrupt death.

The school had been founded by his ancestor, King Dannon, after all. The King Who Saw. Wish you could see this, eh Danny? You’re probably rolling over in your grave right now, watching an outsider take the reins.

Students headed in every direction outside, running off to tell their friends and the rest of the academy what had just transpired. My men stalked behind me, quiet, brooding, all of us ready to pop off like a bottle rocket at the word go .

Staring at the ground as I walked and chewed my lip, trying to think, I noticed a sheen of gold out my peripheral, heading southwest toward Gharvold Hall.

I double-took when I saw Corym’s sister among the Ljosalfar who had attended the assembly.

Glancing back at my mates, I picked up my pace and hurried over to the group of six elves. “Deitryce!” I yelled, and the elves froze, glancing warily over their shoulders.

Corym said, “ Lunis’ai , what—”

“We need to talk.” I put my hands on my hips, waiting for her to leisurely walk over to us with her soldiers behind her.

“Half-blood,” she said with a scowl, the tilt of her lips messing up her beautiful, otherworldly face. She gave me a mock bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure of finding myself before such an illustrious being? Quite the show you put on earlier.”

The spite in her tone could sink a battleship.

“What do you plan to do with the Runesphere?” I snarled. I was in no mood for games, my face set in a grim countenance. Behind me, I felt the wind shift as my mates went rigid where they stood.

Deitryce’s face twisted from wry insult to intense anger as she glared over my shoulder. “You told her, brother?”

“Of course I did.” Corym’s voice was strong. “She is my mate, Deitryce. You would tell the same to yours if I’d made such a drastic error.”

“You did make a drastic error, Corym. You attached yourself to this one.” Deitryce’s glare returned to me, eyes narrowing.

You want a fight, bitch? You’ve caught me at the perfect time. Instinctively, my knees slightly bent. My hand flicked toward my hip, so I could swing out my spear from my back with the snap of a finger.

Her lip curled. “You think you’ve learned so much, human, that you can take me? I watched you fight in our encampment, months ago. You can’t.”

“Come and find out. I’ve learned a lot since then.”

Her chin twitched. Next to her, the Ljosalfar shared glances with each other, not sure how to react—to take the side of one Company-Prince or the other.

Corym strode up alongside me. “Ravinica is Ser’karioth , sister. The Lightbearer. There was a reason the Runesphere was stowed away where it was, so outsiders could never find it. And you took it and brought it here, into the heart of war. Does Vaalnath even know what you’ve done?” He paused at the guilty look on her face, the flash of doubt as she glanced away shamefully. “Lady Elayina showed us the truth of Ravinica Lindeen, Deitryce. She was Anvari , the best of us. Would you be so foolish as to attack the savior of our people, because of your misguided actions?”

His words caught Deitryce off-guard. Judging by the way I’d seen them interact, I could tell these two were usually on the same page—brothers and sisters connected at the hip.

Deitryce had lost her damned mind when Corym pushed her into the portal to return to Alfheim without him, so he could stay to help save me from the Huscarls. I remembered the fear in her eyes, as if she thought that would be the last time she ever saw her brother again.

And now this. The two of them facing off, Deitryce looking at Corym like he was a stranger.

All for me.

My elven mate had chosen. I knew he had chosen—even back at that portal, shoving Deitryce away so he could take up arms beside me. When we’d hardly known each other, his decision had been made. He picked me over his sister . . . in the same way Arne picked me over his sister, and Sven picked me over his siblings, and Magnus chose me over his own blood, and Grim only had me.

There was a reason these five men were my mates, and it wasn’t just because of their good looks, their camaraderie, and their big dicks. It was because of their undying loyalty and their need to always protect and defend me. To fight for me, when no one else had before them.

I stood proudly with them now, ready to square off with our allies in public, in Vikingrune Academy, when I had done everything I could to stop other cadets from doing this.

Corym drew his sword, the steel rasping particularly loudly in the quiet night. Other students were starting to gather around us, shocked at what was happening—the same girl claiming unity and togetherness just an hour ago, now in a standstill with the elves.

“I told you what happened to the sister of my kinsman Arne,” Corym said lowly. “Her name was Frida. She died because of ill-conceived plots. You will too if you don’t answer Ravinica. Why. Did. You. Bring. It?”

Arne made a sound next to me, a groan that made me feel awful for bringing him back to that horrible moment with Frida. I hadn’t known Corym had threatened Deitryce with violence before. It must have happened during his recent mission to Alfheim.

Deitryce stared long and hard at her brother, scrutinizing him, challenging him with her golden eyes. Wondering, most likely, if her brother would truly strike her down.

I knew he would. She didn’t know how close she was to tragedy.

Then, finally, after the tension became thicker than blood, she let out a huff of annoyance. “The Runesphere is in my possession because it isn’t safe left unguarded in Heira.”

Corym said something in Elvish with a growl, leading me to believe it could be translated to “Bullshit.” Then he switched languages so I could understand him. “Does Vaalnath know?”

“No.”

“This subterfuge isn’t like you, sister. What is your plan? You must tell us, or we won’t let you leave.”

She crossed her arms. I noticed she didn’t have her pack on her—the bag where she held the Runesphere over her shoulder— which meant it must have been somewhere in her camp near Tyr Meadow.

That, or already given to someone for some nefarious purpose.

Salos Torfen, perhaps?

I shook my head of the horrid thought of that man getting his hands on the prized magical relic. What he could do with it, when none of us really understood its power.

Deitryce raised her chin defiantly. “I am holding the Runesphere in case incidents play out here where it will be useful. The artifact is a means to fulfilling a contingency plan, brother.”

“ What contingency plan, Deitryce? This vagueness is unworthy of you.” Corym took a step toward the elves. “Be straight with me, like you’ve always been before.”

She chuckled darkly. “I cannot tell you what I don’t know, brother. The ‘incidents’ are theoretical in nature.”

Enough of this bullshit.

“Are you selling it to the highest bidder?” I snapped.

“No,” she scoffed, “and the fact you’d ask such a thing is insulting to—”

“Are you in dealings with Gothi Salos Torfen?”

She paused, head lurching and eyes flickering. “No.”

The shock on her face at hearing my question was enough for me to believe her. It hadn’t crossed her mind.

My gaze narrowed. “Are you in talks with the Dokkalfar?”

Her nostrils flared, arms folding tighter around her torso. “Another insulting inquiry. The Dokkalfar are our hated enemy. Brother, are you going to continue to let your mate dishonor and disparage me with this line of questioning?”

Corym said nothing, settling his steely-gold gaze on her.

“The jotnar?” I asked. “Have you been in contact with them?”

“No one has,” she answered. “Though the jotnar and their unpredictable ways are just the sort of thing I’m waiting to see play out.”

“You don’t deserve this power,” Corym said. “You are not the arbiter of our people, deciding which way the tides turn, sister. Vaalnath will hear of this.”

She scowled. “Our mother-father knows I have Alfheim’s best interests at heart.”

“Yes, but not Midgard’s,” I said. “Not Vikingrune’s. Not the Isle’s. And that’s the problem, Deitryce. What you’re telling me is you snatched the Runesphere from its secret hidey-hole unplanned, and that doesn’t pass the sniff test.”

“I . . . don’t know what half those words meant.”

“Put simply, I don’t trust you.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Which is a shame, because I like your people. But I’ll be watching you closely. You can bank on that.”

More confusion bent her brow. “I—”

“It’s a promise,” I amended, getting annoyed at her deflections and alleged misunderstandings.

With that, I turned and walked away. My men quickly followed.

About twenty feet away, Corym said, “Can I know what’s on your mind, lunis’ai ?”

“Are you angry with me badgering your sister, Cor?”

“No, not angry. You have every right. I’m angry too. I’m just, erm, confused, I suppose.”

“I wasn’t expecting an answer,” I said. “Truth be told, I don’t know what I was expecting. I saw her and just reacted, after you told me she brough the Sphere with her.”

He chuckled incredulously. “So that was all . . . ‘unplanned,’ as you so eloquently charged my sister?”

I nodded. The other guys joined in snickering.

“Got her spooked though, didn’t I?” I said wryly.

Corym’s tone grew serious. “I nearly drew blades against my own kin, love.”

“What’s worse—defying your kin for betraying your people, or telling your liege of that betrayal?”

He quieted. It wasn’t an apples-to-apples comparison, but I think he understood the gist: He had every reason to draw his sword against her, and it had nothing to do with me, honestly. It was the elves Deitryce betrayed by stealing the Runesphere.

Now we just need to make sure the damned humans don’t figure out she has it. Because it’s closer to them—closer to the home of Sigmund Calladan, the descendant of the man who fought a war over trying to obtain it—than it has ever been before.

We were skating on thin ice here, and Deitryce needed to be given a warning we were onto her.

“Besides,” I said, “now that we have her spooked, we can watch to see if she makes any mistakes. See what she’s plotting.”

Corym let out a low hum, nodding.

“Sven?” I chirped.

“Yeah, yeah, little menace. I’ll keep watch on her.”

I grinned at the sneaky wolf shifter. “Good boy.”

By the time we reached my longhouse, my head was pounding. Too many things were running through it. I felt like my last two brain cells were jousting and both kept getting knocked off their horses.

At the door, I couldn’t go inside. Panic was rising up inside me, and for the first time since I could remember, I didn’t want to be consoled. I didn’t want Grim’s soothing touch, or Magnus’ logical words, or Arne’s pleading help, or Sven’s aggressive snap-out-of-it rhetoric.

“Guys. I need a minute.”

“Sneak?” Grim asked.

“I need some air.”

Sven frowned, hands rising up around him. “We’ve been getting air this whole walk, the past thirty minutes.”

“You got a lot of it up in the sky earlier, too,” Arne pointed out unhelpfully.

The sky . . .

Yes. He was right.

“I know, I just . . . I need to think. I’m sorry.”

They looked at me quizzically, brows furrowing because I wasn’t making much sense.

The elves. The Runesphere. Deitryce. The damned assembly and Gothi Salos Torfen. The jotnar. The civil war nearly erupting inside the academy. Swordbaron Korvan and my captive mother, my dead stepfather and Damon, Eirik going to the dark side—

Gah!

There’s just too much going on.

I put a hand to my temple, feeling the pulse of my heartbeat in the vein. I needed a change of perspective—something to clear my head.

Closing my eyes, I vaguely heard my mates asking if I was all right before their voices drifted away. When I blinked my eyes open, my wings unfurled majestically from my back.

“I’ll be back soon,” I announced.

“Wait—Ravinica,” Grim stammered.

He didn’t dare try to grab my ankles this time when I took to the sky.

I hovered for a moment thirty feet up, wings gently flapping. I was starting to feel more comfortable with them. From this vantage, I could see most of campus and the highest trees on the summit of Academy Hill; Mimir Tomes’ pillars and Eir Wing’s odd football shape, and of course Fort Woden stabbing into the sky like a gothic spearhead.

This was the perfect place to free myself, my mind, and think. “I promise I won’t land,” I told my guys with a soft smile.

Then I beat my wings and flew away.

I left Academy Hill, knowing I wasn’t going to go far because there was another winged monster out here in the Isle and he was much stronger than I was.

If I could only find where you are, Ma, perhaps we could plan some sort of rescue mission.

Already I was thinking of new plans, new ways to tackle my problems.

Unfortunately, just as my headache was subsiding and I was starting to feel better, my world came crashing down.

I flew half a mile out from Academy Hill, cruising west, welcoming the chill bite of the night wind against my face. Below me sat Isleton with its flickering bulbs of orange and blue light. I wondered how many people were congregated in Trond’s Pub or Liv’s Libations right now, or if the bars were empty over the fear of our enemies’ movements. Many of the Isleton folk had retreated to the academy to take shelter.

Who still remains down there?

I gazed further west, deeper into the thick woods of Delaveer Forest that went as far as the eye could see.

The Isle was an island, sure, but it was a huge one.

Within another hour of flying, my breath caught in my throat. My wings stuttered, flopping me gracelessly left and right as I fought to maintain control.

Down below, an army of ant-sized flickering lights. Fires. Camps. Torches. All hidden beneath the canopies of Delaveer. But from up high, in the dead of night, they were the only lights for miles.

And there were hundreds of them dotting the horizon.

Fuck.

One realization that hit me? These handy wings totally changed the game when it came to spying and reconnaissance. Sadly, the result of that inadvertent recon only made my anxiety worse.

I banked on the wind and wheeled around, furiously snapping my wings to speed toward Academy Hill.

I was back over the walls—to the shouts and cheers of Grant and other Huscarl watchmen below—within an hour.

Vanishing my wings, I shoved the door open, storming into my abode where my mates lounged and paced and stood with worried expressions on their faces.

“Vini!” Arne exclaimed first, his bright smile sinking as he saw my pale expression.

“Whatever nefarious plans he has, I don’t think Gothi Salos is going to get to call a meeting with any humans outside the Isle, guys.”

Sven stood from my bed. “What do you mean, menace? What did you see?”

“The Dokkalfar have moved locations,” I said through a short, gasping breath. “They’re much closer than Kelvar previously reported. If I had to wager, I’d say they’re less than two days out from Vikingrune Academy.”