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

Chapter 4

Ravinica

OKAY, SO SHIFTING INTO a dragon and showing my scaly wings in all their glory during the battle was out. Got it.

Kelvar whispering little-known comments of my heritage was one thing, but having Corym there to substantiate his claims—saying it was common knowledge in Alfheim that Sigmund was descended from Azerot, and wanted to kill dragons, made this information impossible to ignore.

I wished I had learned about it much sooner . . . or much later. It was all I could think about as our camp folded and we resumed marching toward the Selfsky Plains.

Then again, I’d only known I was part-dragon for days. More and more things would come to light over time, I suspected. The people closest to me remembering some esoteric tidbit about my history would break my world all over again. I wasn’t looking forward to those moments.

The previous conversations with my mates and various people kept coming back to me, drawing me away from the present, dire situation we were in.

A talk with Arne, for instance, both of us abed and fooling around while he spoke about his time as Gothi Sigmund’s spy. We had been guessing what the Gothi wanted with me—why he’d sent Arne to spy on me.

“If I had to guess, little fox, I would say it has to do with Hallans’ beautiful stepdaughter . . . Who oddly, fascinatingly, has the heart of a human . . . but the features of humanity’s most hated enemy.”

Back then, it had been a blithe statement for Arne to say to try and satiate my desire for answers. Now, it took on whole new meaning. Yes, humanity’s most hated enemy. But it’s not the elves or the giants. For Sigmund, it’s the dragons that killed his ancestor!

It frightened me. Did that mean Sigmund had some inkling about my true nature, before I did? Was that why he watched me like a hawk, to prove some hypothesis of his? Or was it truly because my ears showed me to be part-elf, and humans like him simply didn’t trust elves? Am I a novelty to the Gothi . . . or a threat that must be extinguished?

If I was a threat, he would have ended me already. As the chieftain of the academy, he had ample opportunity to do it. In truth, I wasn’t sure I could stop him.

All of this was leading me down a dark path as blind corners started to come into focus. Recollections of my conversations with Lady Elayina—about my “specialness,” my origins, and eventually my existence offering a key to her prophecy—swam through my mind like a river bending over a waterfall.

One clear thought rang in my head over and over again: I have to speak with my mother!

Now more than ever I needed answers. As Elayina had suggested, Lindi was perhaps the only person who could answer my questions. If Ma knows who my father is, this can all be clarified. Does she have any idea of my dragonblood? Could she?

Hallan Borradan was not my father, obviously. My stepfather had always hated me. For years I understood it was because I was the middle child in his and Lindi’s relationship. My brothers bookending me—younger and older—were born from Hallan and Lindi.

So what happened? How did Ma have a child while married to Hallan—a child who wasn’t from Hallan? She’s never answered that.

In the past, she shut down when I asked. We nearly came to blows in one vicious exchange during my teenage years when I’d been feeling particularly rebellious and outraged.

The most glaring answer, and the one that stayed with me for many years, was adultery. It was the simplest excuse: Lindi cheated on Hallan, got pregnant, decided to keep me, and my stepfather had hated me since the day I was born.

If that was the case, I guess I couldn’t blame Hallan for loathing me. Even if I hated the guy, it would suck to be in his predicament, having to look at my face every day and be reminded of his wife’s infidelity.

But Ma had never confirmed nor denied that answer, so it wasn’t so simple.

“Don’t spiral, love,” said a voice next to me. Grim marched at my side, watching as I put one foot in front of the other and stared down at my boots.

“Oh, it’s much too late for that, big guy. I’ve been spiraling since we set off from camp.”

I wasn’t even sure how long we had walked. It seemed like minutes yet my legs ached again, leading me to believe it had been hours.

Grim inclined his chin. “Pure night ahead, Vini. The trees are clearing. We’re coming up on the plains.”

“Shit.” I gulped, trying my hardest to push aside the thoughts plaguing my mind. I’ll sail to Selby Village immediately after this. Do whatever I have to to get there, especially if Ma’s sick. I’ll get the answers I need, even if it hurts her to tell me. “Time to get down to brass tacks, huh?”

Grim gave me a small nod, his features tight and tense. “Best get your spear ready, love. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

We were ordered to stay awake all night, making a tight camp near the tree line, looking out into the purple moon-swathed Selfsky Plains. The moon shone high and bright. The wind swept through the rushes in waves of grain. Behind us and all around, it made an eerie whistle through the trees and branches.

The plains were relatively flat, save for a few rolling hills and high knolls scattered about. Miles ahead, it gave way to the base of the Telvos Mountains—huge, looming towers of gray stone. The high peaks were lost in the clouds when I craned my neck.

Worse than not allowing us to sleep, Hersir Osfen ordered no fires be lit. We had to maintain silence and secrecy, so any enemies out in the plains would be blind to our presence.

I sat in a grim circle with my mates and Dagny. Nearby, Axel Osfen had set up a makeshift, open-sided command tent where he discussed the coming battle with Hersir Kelvar and a few other high-ranking captains. They spoke in hushed voices, and I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

After a scout rustled from the eastern trees—nearly getting a blade drawn on him from our flank watchmen—he disappeared into Axel’s tent. Soon after, word spread through the ranks that we’d be marching up the gut of the plains at dawn, once sufficient light guided us. Sigmund’s troop was ready northeast of us, hiding under starlight.

By the time we charged, the eastern force led by Gothi Sigmund and Thane Canute would be well on their way to flanking the mountains, causing any enemies to fight on two fronts. The western company led by Hersirs Kardeen and Selken would be ready by then and would provide a third front for us to wrap around the enemy.

I bounced my knee incessantly, waiting for the command. My shield and spear were on my thighs. Sven sharpened a sword on a whetstone, while Arne picked arrows from a quiver and examined the heads. Magnus would use his strange bloodsword. He sat still in the darkness, his pale face glinting moonlight through the trees. Grim stood against a tree—nearly as tall as it, with the head of his huge war-axe planted in the ground. Corym sat beside me, checking his magical dagger while keeping his shining elven sword sheathed so it didn’t reflect any light.

We were ready.

Yet my mind was oddly unfocused. I couldn’t see any enemies, and wondered if Gothi Sigmund’s intelligence had been mistaken. Perhaps the enemy avoided us and snaked deeper into the Isle right under our noses? There were a million possibilities.

Mostly, my distraction came from thinking of my mother, my dragonkin revelation, and the bigger revelation of Gothi Sigmund being a dragonkiller. It pushed my hate for him to new heights. After he’d broken his word once I opened the portal to Alfheim, my trust in him died. Now I felt I had to watch my back at every turn.

A thin fog swept through the lowest parts of the grassland valley about two hours before sunrise.

“Great,” I muttered, looking out into the gray. “Just what we need, a fogbank to roll in to make us charge blindly into the prairie.”

Other cadets were more perturbed. Whereas I saw a nuisance, they saw trickery.

Corym frowned, crossing his arms. “Similar to the mist we encountered when rescuing Elayina.”

I perked up from where I sat. Fuck. He’s right.

“Except that mist helped us,” Sven said. “It guarded our six when we charged the dark elves from three directions.”

“Just like we’re planning on doing now, to whatever waits out there,” Arne added.

Our group fell silent. Heavy tension blanketed the camp as the fog slowly drifted into the trees, wrapping around branches like smoke.

“You think it’s magic, Corym?” I asked.

“Could be. Keep your wits about you, everyone.”

My jaw locked.

Then the first scream erupted from camp. So jarring in the silent night—so sudden—that all six of us jumped up from where we sat, startled.

My body went taut like an overextended rope in tug-of-war. I looked around at my men, eyes widening. “What the fuck was that?”

Another shriek, somewhere to the south. In the woods!

Torchlight puffed alive in pockets of trees behind us, from where we’d come from— not out in the plains where our attention was focused.

“Fucking Hel,” Sven growled, drawing his sword and shield.

“Form up, pack,” I ordered, taking the lead as our heads turned on a swivel to gaze into the dark patches of forest. “Shield wall!”

My men answered the call, grouping up with our backs to each other, forming a shoulder-to-shoulder ring.

Axel Osfen emerged from his tent, shield and axe drawn. Kelvar was behind him with his wicked daggers out.

“What’s going on?” Axel growled, bounding into our clearing.

“We aren’t sure, sir,” I said. “Someone screamed.”

“Two people,” Grim amended.

Axel stared out at our camp through the straight-trunked trees. “Are those torches ? Fucking idiots!”

He made to move past us deeper into the camp—

Something made him stutter to a halt. Axel’s eyes veered to the ground, and we followed his gaze.

A pale hand wrapped around his boot, sprouted up from the ground like a gods-damn ghoul from a zombie movie.

Axel whispered, “What in the nine realms . . .”

A head burst through the soft dirt of the forest floor, a sickening wheeze croaking from a blackened, distended throat.

My group scampered back from the emerging creature, a gasp ripping past my lips.

Axel’s head whipped up, eyes fearful. “Mind the ground!” he shouted. “We’re under attack!”

His axe came down a second later, severing the hand gripping his foot at the wrist, sending it skittering bloodlessly across the ground.

Still, the monster pushed through the dirt and mud, soil spilling out as his entire body began to emerge. It showed no pain, this thing. Its face was balding, concave near the scalp, with eyeless sockets and a dislocated jaw.

“Draug!” Kelvar shouted—

And the camp fell into chaos.

All around, the rustling, grating sound of earth being heaved and opened as bodies crawled up from the very ground we walked on. More cries of shock swept through camp, giving away our position.

My heart raced. It calmed to a low hum as I drew on my instincts and fell into a battle-stance alongside my men. All thoughts of my predicaments from home, Alfheim, and Vikingrune Academy drowned away as fear and aggression filled my veins and a curtain of violence fell over my eyes.

Though the undead creatures surprised everyone, they moved slowly. Clawing up from the ground meant they didn’t get the jump they’d hoped for.

The sounds of singing steel and serrated, ripping flesh dotted the camp, joined by a chorus of ghastly wheezes, growls, and snarls.

Two draug emerged in front of our group and were quickly cut down by Sven and Grim, who advanced from our shield wall and beheaded the monsters with their respective sword and axe.

Problem was . . . the creatures didn’t stop moving even with their heads gone. They crawled toward our group on all fours, attacking with blackened fingers and sharp nails against our shields and shins.

Axel ran deeper into camp, slicing and dicing his way through a small group of draug appearing before him. The battlelord moved expertly in precise, methodical movements. His axe was sharp but his mind was sharper, and with every blow to the undead revenants he Shaped a quick rune and finished off with a blast of fire into their faces.

The bodies went up like candles, screeching through ruined throats and organs. They created obstacles of human-sized torches all around us. The black night ended with a flash of red and orange in every direction.

Before leaving the fringes of our camp, Osfen shot us a look over his shoulder. “Use fire!”

Yeah, no shit, Hersir! Looks effective! “What about the forest?” I called out, motioning vaguely to the low-hanging branches and leaves that were just begging to light up and send us into smoky ruins.

“Burn the fucking woods to the ground if it means winning this!” Axel roared. “Whisperer! Get to Sigmund’s camp and tell him to delay the charge for the mountains. We are delayed!”

Kelvar gave a quick nod to him, then Magnus, and dashed off, vanishing into the darkness and heading north toward the front-tier regiment.

My group was left to our own devices. I worried for my friends in other parts of the camp. It was a good thing our devices were sharp and experienced.

“Let’s go,” I ordered. “Move slow and true.”

We crept out from our clearing, deeper into the woods, showing our backs to the foggy plains. Thick black smoke choked us. Already branches were alight.

Arne drew his iceshaping abilities and plastered trees we passed with ice sheets and waves of water to douse the flames and give us passage.

Corym took the lead next to Grim, me in the middle. Sven and Magnus protected our flanks, looking out, while Arne watched our six. Together, we shuffled through the camp, weapons out, eyes alert.

A man came running out of the dark.

Arne nearly shot him with an arrow, only pulling down his bow at the last moment as we noticed it was a cadet. I vaguely recognized the man, who gave us a fearful look before passing into the next clearing.

“Remember, they’re dead,” Magnus called out, speaking with experience as if talking about himself. “They don’t move fast. Any flashy shit like that last guy, it’s probably one of ours.”

“ Probably , he says,” Sven voiced with a smirk in his tone.

Darkly, my group chuckled.

A nasty growl came from the left in a copse of trees.

Sven was there, tossing a firebomb from Muspelheim into the trees and lighting the emerging draug on fire.

Three more hoofed toward us, limping and burning like torches.

“Fuck, you’ve only given them firepower!” Arne cried out, abandoning his back flank to wave his hands and Shape the sky with runes. He reached for the ground and brought twin tendrils of water streaming across the ground.

When the draug trio stepped over the puddles beneath their feet, Arne bellowed and upturned his palms with another Shape, freezing the small rivers into ice blocks that locked the monsters’ feet to the forest floor.

They wiggled and writhed. Then the most disturbing thing happened. With a great cracking and snapping of bone, the draug broke free from the ice-freeze, snapping their own legs off at the shins as they forcefully moved toward us. They toppled forward, which slowed their pace as they were forced to crawl after us on their elbows and forearms.

I made a face, disgusted at the sight of their bony ankles and legs jutting up from the ground with black blood and torn flesh. The smell was awful, but worse was the sound the creatures made.

We went into slaughter mode, forced into action as they crawled after us. Swords fell, axes dropped, beheading and dismembering the dead creatures until they couldn’t come after us any longer. We moved on—

“Watch out!” Grim roared, shield careening to his left as the huge man moved much quicker than expected.

A dark shape spiraled through the sky, the displacement of air causing my head to snap over—

Just as a spearhead lodged into Grim’s shield a foot in front of my face. I gawked at the thrown projectile and the thunk the spear made embedding in the iron-enforced shield.

Corym moved forward. A new enemy took the space in front of us between two trees. This creature had a bluish hue to him, the flesh rotting and falling from his cheeks, showing muscle and bone beneath.

“I f-fucking recognize him,” I stammered.

“A Huscarl from the field months back,” Corym said, spinning his radiant blade. He lunged forward and swung his blade easily, expecting to lodge his sword into the soft belly of the monster.

But this one sidestepped, drew a sword, and hacked Corym’s blade down. Corym’s surprised stare was met with only a black, soulless gaze and a snarl from a lipless mouth with brown teeth.

They fell into melee, swords clanging as Corym realized he was fighting a real opponent now.

“Remember your studies!” Magnus called out. “Newer draug means newer strength!”

More of the “newer” undead monsters tore into the woods around us. They drew rusted blades and nicked clubs, a few with cracked shields. They came from everywhere.

“Fuck,” I breathed, turning to the nearest attacker.

They ambushed us, breaking our shield wall easily as they managed to flank us in the darkness.

Arne shot an arrow into one. Thudding into the draug’s chest, it only momentarily stopped the mindless beast. Glancing down at the fletching of the arrow protruding from his chest, the draug let out a whispering hiss and charged at Arne— running at him.

Arne fumbled with his sword, throwing down his bow—

Magnus was already there, a dark blade of red blood forming from his dripping elbow. He coagulated the blood solid and it made a dull sound as it connected with the rusted steel of the draug.

Arne managed to unsheathe his sword and stabbed under Magnus’ arm, gutting the thing. He yanked to the side to eviscerate it. Blackened guts spilled out of the draug in long ropes. It merely slipped on them and continued attacking, hacking its weapon.

“How the fuck do you kill these things?!” Arne cried out, backpedaling until his shoulders touched Grim behind him.

At that moment, Grim was beheading another strong draug, but even with it spilling dark blood all over its neck and shoulders, it kept swinging at my bear shifter.

I stabbed uselessly into one Sven was engaged with, spearing over my mate’s shoulder into the draug’s shoulder. The force of my strike spun it sideways, and then it was on Sven again in front of me, swinging at his shield.

I had no fucking idea how to kill these things.

We were a cohesive, powerful unit . . . but not everyone in this camp would have the same acumen or numbers we had. How long can we continue this before we grow tired and give the draug the advantage? These things were tireless. They kept at us again and again, throwing themselves on our shields, soaking up our steel, and thinking nothing of it.

The camp was in disarray. With a quick glance to my left and right, I saw shadows of cadets running through the trees, trying to link up with their respective cliques.

One shadowy figure ran from a faster, newer draug—likely one that had been reanimated from the battlefield near here where countless Huscarls lost their lives.

The shadowed cadet tripped on a root, sword and shield flying forward as he cried out.

I whipped my head over, my neck going taut. “Watch out!” I cried—

Just as the draug emerged and buried its blade in the cadet’s chest. It was a theatrical sight in the shadows—a shadowy purt of blood spewing through the air as the man twitched and the draug dragged its corroded weapon up his chest cavity and into his throat.

Sweat lined my neck and face. I was stunned still, appalled as the draug moved on away from us, deeper into the trees.

It was a mere passing moment. I shouldn’t have even been looking that way. But now the sight of those two black shapes deeper in the trees, partly illuminated by moonlight, would be forever burned in my brain.

I watched that cadet die and could do nothing about it. Perhaps it was his death that filled me with a sensation I hadn’t experienced in a long time: overwhelming dread and hopelessness.

“Come on, Vini, we have to keep moving!”

I gave a dazed look to Grim, who had wrapped a hand around my elbow, pulling me toward the group. Did he say something about moving? His voice sounded far and muffled.

With a vacant nod, I let him drag me on.

I snapped to a moment later, blinking away the burn in my eyes—from the smoke, the held-back tears, the anxiety.

We waded deeper into the woods, back from whence we’d came, waiting for specters in the dark to leap out at us and end our war before it had even begun.