Chapter 9 | Ravinica

Chapter 9

Ravinica

BEFORE OUR SHIP DOCKED within the twining fjords and rivers that led to the Isle, I noticed other Wraith ships barreling for the land to our left and right, appearing out of the fog with their cargo—the initiates—in hand.

Their hulls were painted to denote their names. I knew them from legends: Red Wraith, Green Wraith, Yellow Wraith. Those and a handful more ships converged on the same mooring spot on the bank of the Isle.

I was shocked the ships had timed their arrival so expertly. I had a hunch magic had something to do with it, like how we got here so fast after being in the middle of the ocean just hours before.

Arne walked with me to the shore with Rolf behind us, towering like a guardian. Eirik and some others from the boat were waiting on the peninsula, standing atop a craggy stone the shore's waves smashed into.

I made sure to keep a fair distance from Ulf Torfen and his ilk.

Eirik had his arms crossed, peering past us to the other ships landing around the island. I had no idea how large the island was, but I figured I'd learn soon enough. Everything was such a fascinating mystery still.

My legs were wobbly when I finished wading through the ankle-high water lapping at my heels. I was nervous of making a good first impression to the people of Vikingrune Academy . . . though I couldn't see the academy anywhere. The only thing before us, past the sandy shore, was a great forest of tall trees and thickets of green and brown foliage.

If it was the same season here as on Midgard—autumn—I knew the leaves of these grand trees would be turning soon. The forest would look brilliant with its orange, cooper, and red hues. Then again, there was a chance seasons were not the same here as what I was used to.

Eirik spoke to our small contingent, who crowded at the base of the black rock he stood atop. Stamping his foot on gravel, he said, "This is Vellen Shore. Remember that name. Its waters let out to the rest of Midgard, and it will be the waterway we use to ship you in and out of the Isle." He nudged a thumb over his shoulder. "That is the Delaveer Forest. It's where we're going. Come on."

Without saying more, he turned and stalked off.

I blinked, glancing left and right at the other initiates. Most people seemed as confused as me, except wardens like Arne. Everyone hurried off the bank toward my half-brother.

I kept an eye on Ulf. If the Torfen pack was as ubiquitous as Arne had said, I assumed I'd be meeting more of their kind soon. I wasn't looking forward to that, especially if they were anything like that young blowhard.

I scurried off the shore to follow my brother, amazed at how much he had changed in the past two years. He'd always had a commanding presence about him, yet had never been able to properly utilize it in Selby Village. Here, he fit right in, and people actually listened to him.

I was a long way from Selby, to be sure.

I kept having to resist the urge to grab the spear off my back. As we made our way into the forest, I tried to skirt a bit closer to Arne, who wasn't far from Eirik in the lead. Leaning over toward Arne, I whispered, "How deep does the forest go?"

"Not sure. I haven't traversed the whole thing. It leads to the academy, and that's all you need to know."

I bit my lip. "Got it."

"Ravinica," Eirik called out without turning around. His shoulders were tense up ahead. "With me."

Arne snickered. "Uh oh. Looks like someone's in trouble."

I rolled my eyes and jogged away from him to join my brother at the front of the group. The forest was tight and stuffy—easy for claustrophobia to set in. With its high trees that looked like redwoods of some kind, I felt a bit lost. I was used to smaller birch trees, but these things were massive. And they went as far as the eye could see in every direction, practically blotting out the sun overhead.

"Brother," I said with a curt nod, joining his side.

He stared ahead, leading us down a narrow path through the trees. "I'm not going to treat you differently than others just because you're my sister."

"Good," I said. Eirik seemed on edge—entirely different than the relaxing attitude he'd had once arriving at Selby Village. I worried I hardly knew my brother at all anymore, for him to act so serious and . . . foreign. Perhaps it's just a fa?ade he's putting on for the initiates' sakes?

"There are things you should know before arriving," he continued.

I swallowed hard. "Such as?"

"You shouldn't be making friends so soon with people like Arne Gornhodr and his ward."

I reeled, slowing my walk, forcing me to jog a few steps to keep up with his unstoppable march. "Why not?"

"When I was brought to the academy, I was told the same thing: Don't go making friends with the first people you meet on the Wraith. You're forced to interact with them because they're the only people around. That doesn't mean they're your tribe."

My brow furrowed. I smacked an overhanging branch out of the path. I'll make my own tribe however I damn well please, I defiantly told myself. "Anything specific to Arne? He helped me back there, Eirik. Even you didn't do that." I added the last bit with some side-eye.

My brother glanced over at me, scowling. "What did I just say about treating you differently? Do you want everyone to give you a reputation before you even step foot on the academy grounds?"

"A reputation?"

"Yes. Of someone who needs help from others. Someone weak. You need to be stronger than that."

Frustration boiled inside me. I didn't like Eirik talking to me this way, because I was so unaccustomed to it. He seemed like a different person ever since Ulf had nearly attacked me.

I stuffed down the pang of resentment. "Fine. I'll be strong." I couldn't fight back the next part. "Did I do something to offend you, brother?"

"Other than draw a spotlight to yourself back there? No."

I snorted and threw my arms up in frustration. "As if I had anything to do with that! I can't help it if I draw assholes to me like flies to shit. Newsflash, E, but it's been that way my whole life." I swept a bit of silver hair off my shoulder, holding it up. "In case you've forgotten what I am."

His upper lip twitched. He glanced over, grunted, and didn't apologize. "I have a reputation at the academy, Vini." His tone was softer this time, though it did nothing to ease my frustrations and anxiety.

"Arne told me. A Drengr, he said? I understand. I won't bother you and your friends." My words came out spiteful and whiny, which I hated.

I didn't want my brother to think I was weak. I wanted him to be proud of me—to believe he made the right decision in bringing me here rather than Damon. Not the right decision because I was his sister, but because of my merits.

I'll just have to prove to him that I belong. To all of them.

"Is that all?" I asked.

I didn't want his aura of negativity to feed into me. I wanted to be walking alongside that snarky, sarcastic man who called me his little fox. Arne was much more fun than my brother.

"No," he said. "When we arrive at the academy, I have to take you to see Hersir Ingvus. He is the steward of the academy. Tomorrow will be orientation, so you won't get long to rest before getting tossed into the fire."

I blinked rapidly, panicked. "I won't get a chance to familiarize myself with the academy before classes start?"

A quick headshake. "Believe me, Vini, you'll familiarize yourself with Vikingrune soon enough, whether you like it or not."

His words sounded ominous. I wondered if he was just trying to scare me to keep me in line; to make sure I didn't act up or something.

He should've known who he was talking to. I was not Damon. I had discipline and I'd been training for years for this moment. I wouldn't squander it.

The first part of his words flooded back to me. "Who is Hersir Ingvus? What does the steward do? Why must I see him before doing anything else?"

"Because, sister, you aren't supposed to be here. Damon is. Which means we have to answer to the steward, who is also the warden."

"W-Warden?" I stammered. I knew that word, and it meant more than "steward" to me. "You mean . . . a jailer ?"

Eirik gave me a quick nod. "We can't avoid him. Might as well get ahead of it. His runes control the Wraiths . He knows what happens on those decks, and who sits on those rowing benches. He will already be aware Damon Halldan did not arrive with the Gray Wraith ."

The panic inside me bloomed. I chewed my lip nervously. "What, um, what do you think he wants with me? Will I get kicked out before I've even been accepted?"

Eirik sighed. He looked over at me, the scar on his brow pinching pityingly. "That, I don't know, Vini."

Leave it to my older brother to be a bootlicker. His sense of justice was too great.

The idea that Hersir Ingvus knew what happened on ships thousands of miles away seemed ridiculous to me. Unless Eirik sent a messenger raven to the academy before we showed up—which seemed impossible since we had gotten here so fast—then how could this Ingvus person know anything about me?

And if Eirik did send a raven, that's a massive betrayal. No, he wouldn't do that.

Part of me thought Eirik wanted to get ahead of this because it put his reputation at risk. That, if it was found out he was smuggling initiates into the academy, essentially, he would be ruined.

It was a fair point. I still hated it. I wished he could just be honest with me, if that was the case, rather than being cryptic and unhelpful.

Eirik's words only worked to make me more nervous as we marched through Delaveer Forest. It dragged on for what seemed like hours, or maybe it only felt that long because I was stuck in my own head. Arne had stopped talking to me, preferring Rolf's company, and Eirik walked ahead like a stone statue.

I had no one again. I'm used to it, I told myself. I'd better stay used to it, if Eirik's warning is anything to go by.

I was confused about why he thought I shouldn't befriend Arne. To me, the bright-haired man seemed fine. Helpful, handsome, smart. Sure, he might have been a bit cunning, but what did that matter?

I could use someone like that on my side.

Interesting, that it's the first advice my brother gives me here and I'm already going against it. This was going to be a long semester at the academy if I kept my resistant attitude.

Eventually, the trees thinned into a sparse wooded area before we were greeted by a massive hillside stretching up into the sky. I hadn't seen the hill—more of a small mountain, really—from Vellen Shore, because the forest had gobbled it up in its high canopies.

Atop the hill, on the edges of the summit that stretched at least a mile across, I noticed a high wall circling the whole plateau.

Arne was suddenly up beside me. "If you were guessing, you're right. That's Vikingrune Academy."

I tilted my head. "Really? It looks small from here."

"Wait till we get there, fox. Were you expecting Valhalla, hmm? Odin's grand, ostentatious halls, perhaps?"

I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting.

As we began to traverse the hillside, my thighs burning from the climb, I looked out to my left once we reached a certain height. Various campfires plumed down below, back on level ground.

"What's that?" I asked Arne, squinting down below.

"Isleton."

"Isleton? Creative name."

Arne chuckled. "It's the town everyone goes into when classes are off and you need to blow off steam. It might remind you of your own village, with a few places to eat, some shops, pubs, things like that. You can pick up all the latest fashion trends in Isleton."

"Oh?" I smirked, looking down at my raggedy tunic and pants. "As you can see, I am a couture aficionado."

Arne shouldered me, winking. "Fur coats are in vogue right now, I hear. Just look at your brother."

I kept chuckling, putting a palm over my mouth so I wouldn't annoy everyone around us. I was already drawing a few scowls—chief among them my brother's, who strode forward with his white coat swishing in the wind.

"Truly timeless, those fur coats," he added, seeing that it was making me laugh. "I think horned helmets are also making a comeback. Even though we all know Vikings never wore those."

"Oh, no, of course not," I said, smiling.

I enjoyed a man who could bring humor to an otherwise stuffy situation. Gods knew I didn't have that back at Selby. Arne must have known I was anxious as ever, yet his little jokes calmed my nerves. I appreciated it.

There was a path up the hill that wound up and back and up and back. By the time we reached the plateau, it was nearly sundown. I felt as though I'd walked enough to reach straight up a mountainside, if we'd not been walking a dizzying, winding path.

From this great height, I could see everywhere we'd come from. The Isle stretched down below, through the beautiful Delaveer Forest and into the Vellen Shore where the mists created high walls on the horizon I couldn't see through. A bit closer, nestled in the skimpier parts of the forest, sat Isleton.

At the top of the hill, I doubled over and put my hands on my knees. "Thank the gods," I muttered.

Arne chuckled and clapped my back. "Up and at ‘em, little fox. We're almost there."

I glanced up, breathless. The high wooden fence-wall and gatehouse greeted me, complete with guard towers and a few archers atop them standing watch. It looked more like a prison than a university for magical students.

Cresting over the fence were gables and rooftops of variously sized and shaped buildings—longhouses and other structures. I figured I'd learn what they were soon enough, as Eirik had said.

More trees surrounded the hill and sloped down with it to the west and east, though these trees were different than Delaveer Forest and seemed to sparkle in the waning sunlight. They were bushy oaks and beeches.

I scampered forward once our group started moving toward the gate, with Eirik in the lead.

He waited for me, and as we reached the gate, he said, "Once we get inside, you and I will go straight to Hersir Ingvus."

I twirled my wrist to motion him forward. "As you say, brother. Lead the way."

He nodded, staring up at the guard towers to the left and right—cylindrical spires built of wood and stone. Guards on either side stared down at our group.

"Drengr Eirik Halldan has returned with his company of initiates," my brother shouted up at them, "and requests entry into the academy, so they may learn."

Seconds later, after stern nods from the guards, the wrought-iron gate began to creak open.

Eirik turned to our company. His face was severe. "Now then. Let us forge you cadets in the fires of Vikingrune Academy."