Chapter 6 | Ravinica

Chapter 6

Ravinica

THE CELEbrATION DRAGGED into dusk, when the sky was bright with twinkling stars. It would be a cloudless night over the flatlands.

Damon was expected to join the Gray Wraith and Eirik back to Vikingrune Academy tonight. It didn't really matter if he got blind drunk, because he could just sleep it off on the ship en route to the academy. That was the theory, anyway.

Damon acted on that idea with aplomb. As day turned to night, he kept the booze flowing. We hadn't said a single word to each other yet, and I preferred to keep it that way.

I also knew I couldn't be ungracious in defeat. I hadn't been raised that way. "Celebrate your victories, honor your defeats," Korvan once said to me.

I wondered where the Swordbaron had gone off to. I hadn't seen him all day, and he hadn't been present at the initiate announcement. Maybe, like me, he's too discouraged at the result to show his face. His best student failed.

I didn't want bad blood between me and Damon. I had to show my face eventually, if only to accept my defeat. So, after washing myself in the river just north of the village, I went home feeling refreshed. Still depressed, but cleaner. I changed clothes, grabbed a few items, and set off to the pub down the road.

The party had moved indoors with the night. A few stragglers roamed the streets, yet it was quiet as I made my way down the road.

Through the open windows of the pub, I could smell the booze and sweat half a block away. The music had moved indoors also, and was loud, trickling out into the street. Laughter and camaraderie filled the night.

I tried to time my entrance so it wouldn't be seen as a big deal, squeezing into the bar with a couple other drunkards on their way in, who came in from the cold after pissing in the alley between the pub and another shop.

Even so, the revelry seemed to die on everyone's lips when I stood in the doorway. Eyes whipped over to me, some of them narrowing, some lips pursing, as if to say I wasn't welcome here. In the village I had grown up in.

I darted out of the entrance, toward a group of people who parted as I passed. Low murmurs picked up around me. I ignored them, while keeping an eye out for possible threats.

As evidenced by whelps throwing rocks at my face, there were always threats in Selby Village for a bog-blood. To make matters worse, everyone knew I had been the likeliest initiate candidate, so I assumed they thought I arrived with vengeance on my mind.

My lip was split and scabbing over a second time. The right side of my face was bruised from my stepfather hitting me. In all, I didn't look good.

"Where's my brother?" I asked someone as I passed.

"Which one, half-breed?" the man asked. "The older one retired hours ago to his longship, awaiting the younger one, who is somewhere over there." He pointed vaguely to the other side of the bar.

I nodded firmly and dipped away.

Damon lounged in a booth with two of his friends and a sleeping girl with her head tucked against his shoulder. They all looked bleary-eyed and tired, with the exception of the girl, who was simply out cold.

Day drinking will do that to a person of her small size.

Damon and his friends were playing cards. He was more reserved than earlier, swaying in his seat, clearly drunk. The festivities had moved on from him. I figured no one even remembered why they were celebrating in the first place. The announcement ceremony was a good excuse to gorge themselves on food and drink.

From the side of the table, I cleared my throat, crossing my arms.

Slowly, Damon looked over and up at me. He blinked his bloodshot eyes. "Oh, look who it is. The loser, come to cry about how unfair the world is?"

"No, Damon. That's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here, bog-blood?" one of his friends snarled.

"Shut up, Cale," Damon chided. He looked up at me. "Why are you here?" he asked, almost comically echoing his friend's question.

"To pay my respects."

"Okay. Then pay them." Damon set his cards down and threw his arms out wide.

I looked at the morose crowd around him. The girl on his shoulder. "Damon. You are my brother—"

"Aren't you the one who always calls me your half -brother? Now, in defeat, I'm your lovable sibling?"

"I certainly never said lovable."

Damon froze, lips parted. They curled upward. "Fair enough, sister ."

It was funny—I knew the best way to communicate with Damon was with sarcasm and mocking. Especially when he was in his cups.

"You're my brother," I continued, "and I'd like to do it proper. Let's go outside—you look like you could use some fresh air. I've got some gifts for you before you set off tonight."

At the mention of gifts, Damon tilted his head. He gave me a curious pout, slowly nodding. Hesitantly, he stood from the seat. The girl who had been snoring on his shoulder slumped over, and his friends laughed at her. "Play a hand without me," he told his minions. "I won't be long." He staggered out from behind the booth. "And don't touch the girl. She's mine."

I wrinkled my nose. The unconscious girl? For shame, Damon.

When he eyed me blearily, I moved toward the exit. For some reason, my heart wasn't pounding in my chest. I didn't feel anxious. Perhaps it was because I had resigned myself to my fate, and knew I would be a mainstay of Selby Village for years to come now that I'd lost Vikingrune Academy.

Once outdoors, Damon lifted his hands over his head and stretched. Through a large yawn, he said, "I'm surprised you showed up, given everything that's happened. I respect it. You have grit, sister."

"Thank you," I answered back, watching him wobble in place.

He picked at his nose and flung it away, then scratched his ass. "You were right. The breeze is nice. Stuffy in that bitch." He tossed his thumb over his shoulder at the pub. "I need to take a piss. Can the gifts wait?"

"Of course, Damon."

My half-brother wandered down the dark alley to the side of the bar. When he got to a specific spot that wasn't already marred by dark piss-stained soil, he turned away and unzipped his pants.

I glanced over my shoulders. It was empty. My heartbeat was steady as I slunk down the alley like a wraith through the parting mists.

Damon hummed tunelessly to himself, staring down at his work. A loud stream splattered off the ground at his feet. He said, "You know, I think you still have a chance of getting in if your magic decides to show up." Then he chuckled to himself. "Big if there, right?"

"I'm sorry, brother. Please don't hold it against me."

My voice was right behind him.

Damon jolted and pissed on his own shoe. "W-What—"

My arm wrapped around his neck from behind, before he could turn to face me.

And I squeezed.

Damon let out a choking sound. His arms flailed in front of him as his urinating abruptly cut off, his whole body going tense.

He might have been taut, but he was also drunk, squishy, and easy to ply. I kept him in a full nelson, arm-bar wrapped behind his neck to complete the chokehold.

Damon's eyes bulged. His tongue flapped as he let out silent screams. He writhed in my grip, weakly, and spun in circles. He tripped over himself, staggered to his knees. Dirt kicked into the air. I hovered over him, knees bent in a fighter's stance as the fight went out of my half-brother.

His contracting muscles loosened. He clawed at my arms a few times. Then they fell to his sides and dangled uselessly.

I gently let my brother slide from my grip, unconscious. When I stood to my full height, staring down at the heap in the darkness, I was hardly breathing heavily. It had been easy to choke the drunkard out.

Inside, I felt a quick pang of guilt and remorse. Part of me said he didn't deserve that. Then the darker part of me took hold, and said he was unworthy. That he would have squandered this opportunity.

I reached behind me and pulled out a length of rope, a measure of duct tape, both "gifts" I'd gathered from the house before arriving. I'd planned to tie him up and stick him in the darkest corner of the alley.

I hesitated. Piss puddle around him. Cock still out in the open. Sleeping like the dead.

It looked like Damon Halldan had simply passed out standing up, after getting drunk all day. Everyone would believe it . . . at least for long enough. I had no need to tie him up and hold him hostage, because he had essentially already done that to himself.

With a sigh, I stood taller, put the rope and tape away, and said, "Maybe next year, Damon."

I left the alley, dropping the abduction items off at my longhouse and grabbing my spear before leaving.

I rushed out of the village onto the banks of the ocean. Moving quickly, I only went into a sprint once I made it to the outskirts of town and knew no one was watching me.

It had been less than twenty minutes since my altercation with Damon. There was a chance he'd already been discovered.

Then again, everyone in that damned place was sauced. There was a possibility no one would notice for a while yet. Even once they did, would anyone believe Damon that he'd been choked out by his sister? Would he even want to tell people, and suffer the humiliation?

Of course they would. Of course he would. I was a bog-blood. Whatever they could do to taint my name, they would. When everyone awoke next morning and went about their chores, they would see me missing.

So I had to move fast.

The Gray Wraith sat in the same spot we'd left it the night before—half in the water, half on the sand. It was eerily quiet out at the beach.

I rushed to the boat, stood at the hull, and bit my lip.

This is it. Moment of truth. I've either just made the worst mistake of my life and damned my chances of ever attending Vikingrune . . . or this will somehow work out.

I started climbing the few handholds on the hull to get over the side of the boat, strapping my spear across my back before moving. I didn't want to let myself known until absolutely necessary.

Voices murmured above me. I made little noise, moving stealthily. There was no stopping the crash as I hoisted over the portside rail onto the ship.

When I looked up, shadows stood over me in a circle, peering down with heavy frowns on their faces.

I smiled and waved from my knees. "Hi?"

Someone pushed through the crowd, grunting. Eirik stood in front of me, eyes wide. "Ravinica?"

I stood, dusting my hands off. "Hey, E."

"Everyone back to your posts," he said, shooing off the warriors next to him. They meandered off. The surprise on my elder brother's face shifted to caution, eyes narrowing. "Where's Damon?"

"He got cold feet, I imagine." More like piss feet.

He tilted his head, unconvinced, and crossed his burly arms over his chest. "What did you do, Vini?"

I swept my arm out behind me in a wide arc. To answer his question, I ignored it and asked one of my own. "What the fuck was that, Eirik? A final trial?"

My voice came out harsher than I'd meant it to.

"No," he said sternly. "You know I don't make the decisions. You shouldn't be here, sister." He glanced down at the wooden floorboards of the longship, then relaxed his body and rubbed the back of his neck. ". . . Though I'm glad you are, if I'm being honest."

I jolted, shocked. "Y-You are?" And here I thought I was about to get skewered by strangers on this mythical boat.

My frustration came roaring back, remembering the afternoon announcement and the way Eirik's eyes sank as he read off the name. "How the hell would Damon get the call over me?" I demanded. "Has the academy not gotten our ravens showing the tally of trials? I've defeated him on every account!"

"I know, Vini. I've heard." With a sigh, Eirik took a seat on a rowing bench.

The other shadows on the boat—men and women who looked around my age—kept to themselves on their respective benches. Some of them lay on their backs to shut their eyes.

"I think it has less to do with your prowess, sister, and more to do with your name. Sadly." Eirik shrugged. "Superiors over my head decide who is chosen. I just carry out their will." He stood and thrust a finger at me. "Just know, I had nothing to do with this. In fact, I fought for your recruitment."

"You did?" I was stunned again.

"It fell on deaf ears," he admitted.

I gnashed my teeth together. "Will you be in trouble when you arrive with a woman rather than a man?"

A smirk broke at the corner of his mouth. "Who says we're going to take you with us?"

My jaw clamped harder. My hands knotted into fists at my sides. I'd fight every damn person on this boat if it meant sailing away from here.

Eirik saw the way my body tautened, going into a fighter's response. He put his palms out in surrender. "I'm kidding, Vini. Gods. I was not looking forward to the incessant chatter of Damon en route to the academy."

I blinked. Loosened my muscles. "So . . ."

"I won't be in trouble for bringing a woman rather than a man," he said. "I might get in trouble for bringing you , specifically. I can't say. And I don't know what might befall you when you arrive at Vikingrune. I just know I'll take the chance."

I was stunned at my brother's candidness. "Really? Why?"

His face hardened, the two scars drawing wrinkles around them. "Because this isn't a popularity contest, sister. Damon never understood that. He treats this like a vacation. I know damn well how dangerous it is out there. Here's the truth: I'd rather have you in my shield wall than my foolish younger brother."

Holy hells. I gulped past a dry throat.

He stepped closer to me, having my full attention. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Vini? You know the end of the rhyme: ‘Until your soul is sealed.' There's no going back. You need to be sure ."

I nodded decisively, firmly. "I'm sure, Eirik. More sure than I've ever been about anything. This is what I was born to do, brother."

He stared at my face, eyes scrutinizing every line and wrinkle and blemish. His lips thinned into a line beneath his short-cropped beard. Whatever he saw there, he appreciated, or at least respected.

With a curt nod, Eirik said, "Very well." Then he turned to his crew and spun his hand over his head in a circle. "Round up, everyone. It's time to set off. We have our initiate."

The crew grunted and took to their rowing seats. Oars came out of their holds in a flurry. Eirik spun on me, pointed to my spot on the bench, and gestured to an oar. "You'll be expected to help. Take an hour to rest, then row."

My heart shimmied in my chest, lodging in my throat. By the gods . . . it's actually happening! I nodded profusely. "Of course, brother. I take your lead."

He grunted and bent lower to me, winking. "Then let's set off before Damon wakes up and raises hell."

"Our village wanted an enemy, brother," I said. "So I gave them one."

He smirked at me. My smile was wicked as he walked off . . . but the smile faltered once he was gone toward the prow of the ship.

How in Odin's name does he know Damon passed out? I never told him that part.