Chapter 26 | Ravinica

Chapter 26

Ravinica

CORYM AND THE WOOD elf leader seemed confused by each other. Corym spoke the elven tongue in a graceful, lovely way. This other man—Jhaeros, I believed he was called—had a more jarring, guttural speech pattern. Though I didn’t understand what they were saying, I understood bewilderment easily enough. It spoke on both their faces.

When their conversation concluded, and all eyes turned to Arne, I felt some confusion of my own. My mates looked around, brows furrowed and cheeks scratched.

I hated feeling clueless about what was going on. Is Corym negotiating on our behalf? Is he giving Arne as a sacrifice—as a fuck-you to Arne for getting him put in the Vikingrune jails? Or for betraying me in the first place?

I had to know.

Grabbing Corym’s hand once Jhaeros turned to discuss with his hunters, I said, “What’s going on?”

“There’s a lot to talk about,” he murmured, facing our group.

“The important parts first. Why was everyone looking at Arne?”

The iceshaper gulped as we glanced at him.

Corym said, “Jhaeros speaks of a ‘doppelganger’ who looks like him. A woman who is here. I don’t think their usage of that word is correct, or perhaps I translated incorrectly. I’m assuming he means she looks like us. Elves.”

My heart thumped. We had always said how Arne resembled Corym in appearance—thin, bright hair, pretty face.

Arne paled. “Oh gods.”

My eyes bulged, picking up what he was saying.

“Frida, what in Odin’s name have you done?” he whispered. He took a second to gather himself, then, “Is she alive?”

Corym nodded. “They sent her away. She came alone, told the hunters she had come to the ‘wrong place,’ and left before her arrival could be adjudicated.”

I put a hand on Arne’s shoulder, and he tensed. It hurt to see him so jittery. “How is this possible?”

“She must have known about the portal opening.” Arne sucked his lips into his mouth. “I saw something new in Dieter’s letter recently. Written in a hidden script I didn’t see at first. He asked for help, saying Frida had vanished from the group.” He shook his head, bowing it in shame. “I never expected she would come here , or even know how!”

As he raised his voice in frustration, the wood elves looked over at us. They were staring again, suspicious and cautious.

I looped my arm into Arne’s. “If she’s gone from here, and if the wood elves can be trusted at their word, then she is safe. We can do nothing about it right now, love.”

Arne gulped, faced the heavens, and sighed. Once he was composed, he nodded.

“What news of Magnus?” Hersir Kelvar asked Corym. “Anything?”

“The elves are going to hunt him. They know where he is. I promised we’d leave Alfheim if they could lead us to him.”

“This is your home ,” I hissed. “You shouldn’t have to leave.”

Sven chuckled. “He might not have to. We do, menace. Unless we want some jagged spears up our asses.”

I scowled at him, turning back to Corym. “Why have the elves not attacked Magnus yet?”

“They were not aware of his presence when he arrived in Kiir’luri, which has them confounded. It’s my belief—and I haven’t told them this—that his bloodrending capability has masked his blood among Ljosalfar. Somehow.”

“Fascinating,” Kelvar muttered, stroking his sharp chin.

I said, “So they’re . . . watching him?”

“Aye.”

“Magnus has been studied long enough in his life.”

My mates agreed with glum nods, and then we parted. I had to cool down, because I was angry on Magnus’ behalf. People just need to let the poor man live.

My proximity to Corym and Grim quickly calmed me. My mountain-bear always had that effect on me, and Corym’s serene presence stemmed from us being in his homeland.

I threaded Corym’s hand in mine, giving him a small smile as our team broke our huddle. “Thank you for getting us out of that without bloodshed. For vouching for us.”

“Of course, lunis’ai . We’re not out of the proverbial woods yet. They don’t understand your importance, but they will.”

A knot formed between my brows. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think they’ve noticed your half-elven origins. Their focus has been on our human friends. When they do, I’m not sure how they’ll react. Elves can be just as discriminating as humans. Especially the Skogalfar.”

I let out a sad sigh of resignation. “Luckily, that’s one thing I’m used to, love.”

Jhaeros and his hunters surrounded us and led us into the woods, away from the cliff. Our group was on high alert as we waded through the thick trees and stuffy air.

As we followed the wood elves deeper into Kiir’luri, I perked a brow and glanced sidelong at Corym, remembering something. “Now that we’ve gotten the important questions out of the way, I have another one.”

He glanced over, matching my curious expression.

“The way you introduced yourself. I heard your name . . . and then a lot more tacked on afterward.” I showed a hint of a smile. “Care to expand on what that was all about?”

Corym looked away, into the thickets beside him, and puffed out his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his head, hesitant.

I grabbed his hand, noticing his reticence. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. You don’t have to tell—”

“It is my title. My full role in Alfheim. I needed to say it so Jhaeros would not attack us.” He looked suddenly flustered, which was a strange expression for him. “I should have told you—”

My hand went to his cheek before he could finish, cutting him off. He felt so smooth, looked so golden, in this strange afternoon glow in Alfheim. “It’s okay, Corym. We’ve only had so much time together. I’ve been much more interested in learning who you are rather than what titles you hold.”

His smile brightened my soul, stealing away some of the trepidation I’d been feeling—about Magnus’ whereabouts; Frida’s shadowy involvement in all this.

Tilting his head closer to me as we walked, and with my other mates noticeably eavesdropping around us, he said what he had told Jhaeros. “Corym Vaalnath-Taramore E’tar. Fifth Company-Prince of Heira’s Eastern Crossing.”

I pulled my face back, staring at him slack-jawed. “ Prince was one of those words?”

He gave me a shy nod.

Sven snorted. “I should have known you were royalty by how uptight and proper you are, pointy-ear.”

A smirk curled Corym’s lips. “Fifth Company-Prince is not as special as you think it is, wolf. I am the fifth prince in line, yes, but I will go no further than leading the Company of the Eastern Crossing legion. There are . . . thirty-six others.”

I guffawed. “ Thirty-six princes?”

“Those are just the ones not from our Maltor , our monarch.”

Shaking my head, not understanding anything about what he was talking about, I waved my hands in the air. “Hold on. Back up. Can you explain that better?”

Even though we were in a tense situation with wood elves who didn’t trust us, my mates forgot about them and scooted closer to listen. Only Hersir Kelvar stayed gazing outward, apparently not interested in Corym’s past.

“ Maltor Vaalnath is the sovereign of Heira,” he began.

“The one with four wives and two husbands?” I asked.

“Good memory, lunis’ai .”

“That’s also one of your names,” I pointed out helpfully.

“Indeed. The first of my middle names, as you would call it, is from the breeder—the one who impregnates. The second name, my mother Taramore, is who I was born to—the impregnated.”

That made enough sense to me. “So Vaalnath was the father, Taramore the mother.” I shrugged.

“It’s not so simple, love,” he continued with a smile. “Because Vaalnath is also capable of giving birth.”

Sven let out a sound of disbelief, and Grim chuckled.

My mind wrapped around that. “Vaalnath is . . .”

“Intersex, humans would call it. Children born from Vaalnath’s womb are Court-Princes. The important children, that is, for royal succession. Vaalnath’s offspring born from other wombs are Company-Princes. We are placed in generally important positions among Heira. There are thirty-six of us half-princes, as we’re called, spread among countless women and in’kylins— other intersex folk.”

“So if Vaalnath’s womb whelps you, you’re important. If Vaalnath’s cock whelps you, you’re not as important,” Sven crudely said.

Corym’s lip twitched. “Yes, wolf. That is a succinct and vulgar way of putting it.”

Sven shrugged. “Makes sense to me. Wombs are more important than cocks in Midgard, too. They’re the ones who give birth, after all.”

Arne raised a finger. “Yes, but wombs can’t give birth without the help of cocks, dear Sven.”

“Fair point, dandy. In my pack, the breeding bitches are always the nurturers. It checks out that Vaalnath would feel more connected with their womb-born flock.”

Arne said, “I’m sorry, the breeding bitches?”

Sven pouted, confused at the question. “Our alpha females.”

Arne muttered, “No wonder you’re so fucked up, you poor, sorry son of a breeding bi—”

“Could you two shut the fuck up?” Grim grunted.

Their banter dwindled, and I was unable to take my eyes off Corym as he explained all this like he was talking about the weather. I had never heard of such a system. It sounded, well, awesome, honestly.

“In Midgard, something like that would never happen.” I shook my head in disbelief. I was utterly curious about this Maltor Vaalnath, but not because of their combo genitalia. I was more interested in what they were like as a leader, having dozens of children, all in a compact, rigid hierarchical structure.

Corym said, “Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it never will, lunis’ai .”

That was true. And wise. I said, “The Eastern Crossing, I’m assuming, is the eastern flank of the Kingdom of Heira?”

“The Nation of Heira, yes. Vaalnath is neither a king nor queen, and both, remember. They don’t lead a kingdom or queendom.”

“Oh. Right.” I smiled shyly, my face flushing. “Sorry.”

“I’m not expecting you to understand the intricacies of our hierarchy in a single conversation.”

“Wait,” Arne said, moving from Sven to step into the conversation to Corym’s right. “If you’re the Company-Prince of the entire Eastern Crossing, does that make you royalty and a general?”

The elf blinked at Arne, as if he’d never thought of it like that. “I suppose it does, iceshaper.”

“Damn.” Arne smiled. “I always thought there was something special about you. Suspicions confirmed.”

This fascinated me. Corym is an elven prince? And I didn’t even know? What other amazing shit has he not told me? Wrinkling my nose, I said, “I thought you said you were, uh, tor . . . tortoise? A teacher.”

Corym laughed. “ Torar’tis. ” He shot me a roguish wink. “A teacher of soldiers.”

I threw my head back and barked, which got me some scowls from the wood elves.

Before my mates could gripe, Corym lifted a finger. “And of herbs and alchemy. I taught courses on that to other Company-Princes at a royal academy in Heira. Can’t forget that one.”

By now, we had walked far from the initial landing zone where the portal had spit us out. I had no idea where we were, but I felt safer having Corym with us.

A gods-damned elven prince .

There couldn’t have been a better time for him to show his true colors. I was excited to have the humble elf around—even more so now, if it was possible. Though I’d said titles meant nothing to me, since I was more interested in the man behind the titles, I supposed I was only being half-honest. Because having a general-prince as a mate felt pretty fucking awesome.

And useful. My intrusive mind won over, and I scowled to myself—always calculating.

Jhaeros looked over his shoulder and barked something to Corym.

The smile left Corym’s face.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“We’re nearing the River Th’race. Where they’ve been studying Magnus.”