Chapter 2 | Arne

Chapter 2

Arne

"YOU ARE STILL RESISTANT , I see. I'm disappointed, iceshaper."

Coming from the shadows in front of me, the man's voice was like velvet caressing my ears. Slightly raspy, quiet, and absolutely controlled.

I pursed my lips, trying to stave off the invasion. Over the past two weeks, I had been sullen. Worse than that, I felt awful for what I'd done.

I had stabbed the one woman in the back who I thought could save me. My soul was damned because of what I'd done to Ravinica Linmyrr. The girl who abruptly kissed me in the mess hall after I helped her uncover her own history and secrets. The woman I demanded the same from later, as repayment.

And gods did I want her lips on mine again.

I knew it would never happen now. Not after what I'd done. And for that—for being a sniveling rat—I deserved all the animosity she directed my way.

All I could do now was hope she was still alive, housed with the treacherous elves. Pray I could somehow convince her to forgive me, once she understood why I'd done it.

Now, I was a rat again, confined to a cage. Not a literal cage—my captor put no bars around me. I simply sat on a stool, as I had every other day for the past two weeks, with my hands and legs unbound.

Technically, theoretically, I could have stood and walked out of the stuffy, shadowy office if I chose to.

I knew that was no real solution. It would only make everything I'd done useless, pointless, and damn the people I hoped to help.

My mental captor emerged from the shadowy corner and stepped in front of me, arms lank at his sides. He was not a tall man: thin like me, gaunt in the face, and pale. Yet what he lacked in size, he made up for in intensity . . . and curse Odin if he wasn't the most intimidating man at this academy.

His straight long hair that went to the small of his back showed his age more than his face, with fair roots and graying strands.

"I've told you everything I know already, Whisperer," I said. "What more do you want?"

Hersir Kelvar the Whisperer let out a noncommittal sound, somewhere between a grunt and a scoff. "Tell it to me again, boy. You have much to account for. Pieces are still missing. Many men died on your watch, and I want to know how it is you survived such an ordeal."

An ordeal ? Is that what he thinks happened out there in Delaveer Forest, on the fringes of the Niflbog? A fucking ordeal ?

I flared my nostrils and kept my mouth shut.

There was no point.

Kelvar crouched so he was eye-level with me. His silver-flecked orbs scared me. They were similar to Magnus Feldraug's lifeless eyes, oddly enough.

It was never a comfortable meeting when you sat in the Whisperer's chair.

"You were given a job, cadet, and you accomplished it," he said simply. "Though it came with great loss. Loss that needs to be explained. So . . . Tell. Me. Again."

When his words cut off, I shook my head.

"You have nothing to fear from me."

I believed him. A shudder swept through me, bringing me back to that bloody, grassy creek, and how the golden-clad elves fought ruthlessly, mercilessly, and killed all the Huscarls around me.

I was filled with loathing for the elvish invaders.

Abruptly, my thoughts turned . . . heroic. I knew that by spilling my guts to Kelvar, I would be helping everyone I sought to help. There was no other way out of this. If I wanted Ravinica to live, and for my people to survive, Kelvar needed to know what I knew, so he could relay my intel to his higher-ups.

"Ravinica spoke with Lady Elayina," I said, blinking.

"What did she speak of with the bog-hag?"

"I don't know, sir. You know the old crone does not speak with more than one person at a time. I waited outside the tree-cave."

Kelvar nodded slowly, standing to his full height in front of me. He paced back and forth, head bowed. "When the initiate returned outside, you said she seemed . . . jubilant?"

"Not jubilant," I said with a nasty headshake. No, that memory was not correct, despite what Kelvar wanted me to believe. "She seemed . . . motivated . Enthused about something. I didn't get a chance to find out what her excitement was about, because I feared the Huscarls hiding in the trees would be discovered. So I iced her then and there, at the mouth of the cave."

Kelvar continued nodding, tapping his chin and pulling at the slightly sagging skin of his neck. "Motivated, then." He paused and turned to me. "Do you find it coincidental, iceshaper, that the elves attacked you only after Ravinica was in the academy's custody?"

"I . . . don't know, sir. I don't believe in coincidences. Vikingrune has taught me that."

"Good. True enough. Which is why I'm so curious about the elves' placement in all of this, and how it relates to the ancient half-elf seer in the cave."

"You'll have to ask Ravinica."

When Kelvar turned away from me, toward his shadowy alcove near the door, I blinked and abruptly felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I had done the right thing, I knew, yet now it felt . . . wrong.

Brow furrowing, I let out a panicked sigh. I didn't even know what I was talking about. What did I just say?

There was a reason Hersir Kelvar was called the Whisperer. He was the most gentle, invasive, skilled mindshaper at the academy. His specialty had a softness to it—a ubiquitous quality most cadets could not defend against.

And he had just plied his trade directly on my mind and memories, without me even noticing until it was too late. He made himself trustworthy in my eyes, despite it being a fa?ade.

I cursed myself for my stupidity. A layer of sweat built on my brow, under my arms, along my forehead. I felt breathless, like a migraine was coming on.

The Whisperer turned to me again, folding his arms over his narrow chest. "We will stop for today," he said softly, almost apologetically—as if it wasn't a form of torture what he was doing. "You have done well, and given me much to think about. We will speak more about the imminent issue, the Ljosalfar, next session."

"And my people?" I asked, the plea practically begging in my tone.

He smirked—a devious, sickly looking thing on the spy master's gaunt, razor-sharp face. "You dare not even say their names? Do you think the Lepers Who Leapt are a secret here, boy? That their existence is forbidden to speak of?"

I sighed. It's not the entire group of magicless bastards I worry about. It's my sister . . . whose life was directly threatened before I was sent on that damned longship. The Gray Wraith.

I wished I had never stepped on the deck of that fucking boat. Of course, I had been obliged to join Drengr Eirik Halldan to his homeland, and to mine. The decision hadn't been forced on me, but I knew the consequences of my refusal.

Recruiting Rolf Blisdan from my town had only been a cover. Spying on Ravinica, sadly . . . had been the real mission. Ever since first locking eyes with that silver-haired goddess—the beautiful, courageous menace who turned my world upside down—I had been untrue with her and with my own thoughts and emotions.

I didn't know what Kelvar the Whisperer wanted with her. I had done my best to figure it out, but secrets were well-kept at Vikingrune Academy when the superiors wanted them to be.

All I knew was I wanted her, I had failed her, and now I was continuously failing her every time I stepped into this office. I was damned for what I was doing, spilling her secrets and truth without her knowledge, yet there was nothing I could do.

I had no defense against Kelvar's whispers.

"With a little more pushing, a little more prodding," Kelvar said sweetly, "then I will know everything there is to know, Arne. And then, yes, your people will be safe. You will have guaranteed their security. It is no small thing, saving a life. You should not be disappointed, saddened, or angry about what you are doing."

As if I had a choice in it, bastard!

I ground my teeth together, tamped my anger and frustration down to a respectable level, and simply nodded at the Whisperer.

There was no point showing my true rage at what he was doing to me, and forcing me to do, because it would only hurt the ones I loved.

I was caught between a rock and a hard place—skating a thin layer of ice when I knew the ice would eventually crack and the chilly waters would swallow me whole.

On one hand, I needed to tell Kelvar enough to satiate his desires, in order to help keep my sister Frida alive. On the other hand, I needed to resist telling all of Ravinica's secrets to this man, to keep her alive.

I didn't want to choose between them, because I couldn't.

The woman I grew up knowing and loving, or the woman I'm currently falling for? How am I supposed to make that call—sacrifice one for the other?

No. I had to have my cake and eat it too.

I needed to save both of them.

I just couldn't fathom how the fuck I was going to do that.