Chapter 26 | Ravinica

Chapter 26

Ravinica

I WALKED INTO THE MESS hall near Gharvold Hall, the western barracks close to the wide expanse of Tyr Meadow. Before scurrying in through the doors, my eyes caught a few Huscarls lazing about off to the side, chatting.

Seeing them and their black armor and cloaks brought a shudder rippling through me. What if they know what I've done?

The cognitive dissonance since arriving back at the academy was astounding. Outside these walls, my mates and I had extinguished no less than twenty of these "honorable" soldiers of the academy. Now I'd be dining with them in the northwestern cafeteria, inside the academy.

I blew past the soldiers, who didn't give me so much as a second glance, and changed my focus to the loud prattling of conversations going on inside the wide eating-hall.

Two long benches stretched down the middle, one end to the other. A line of students stood in line along one of the walls, waiting their turn in the queue to get their slop from the cook at the front.

I scanned the building, took in all fifteen or so faces, and spotted the one I had hoped to be here.

Arne ate by himself at one end of a bench, huddled over his bowl, shoulders slumped. He looked glum and defeated.

With a sigh and a shake of my head, I wandered over.

He spotted me coming out the corner of his eye and sat up straighter, wincing when I approached with a scowl.

Recoiling, he said, "Are you going to hit me again?"

I crossed my arms, standing over him. "I have half a mind to." You'd deserve it, asshole.

The bruises marring his pretty face were starting to fade, though I'd added a new one near his jaw. That one was black and blue, but his right eye was at least open now, just slightly puffy.

The weak part of me felt sorry for him—bad that he'd gotten beaten up. I squared my shoulders, not willing to back down to this weasel.

Arne quirked an eyebrow. "So you're not here to hit me. Are you here to . . . kiss me?"

My jaw dropped as the twinkle in his mischievous eyes grew darker, a smirk playing close to his lips. "The fucking audacity. You wish, iceshaper."

He winced, smirk faltering when I called him by his title, "iceshaper," which he told me before made him feel shitty when I said it. Maybe, subconsciously, that's why I said it.

Last time I'd seen Arne Gornhodr in a mess hall, I'd done precisely that: Kissed him, for showing me the Lepers Who Leapt and changing my life for the better.

He had done that for me.

It was a different time, and I couldn't even remember that part of me anymore. Back then, I'd been walking on clouds after meeting Dieter, learning about the academy outcasts who were like me—without magic—and getting the inside scoop on how to break into Mimir Tomes.

A whole world had opened up to me thanks to Arne.

Was he deceiving me even then? Likely. From Mimir, I learned about my history, then he told me about Elayina, coaxing me to speak with her.

Leading me to Elayina had been one of the endgames of his deception. From there, after I talked to her, I was promptly captured by Huscarls, and then elves.

The soldiers had wanted to bring me back here for questioning. Torture, maybe, if I didn't give them what they wanted to know.

Why is Elayina so important to the Hersirs? Clearly there's something I'm missing here. I intended to find out what it was.

But not right now. I was on a separate mission.

"Well, little fox?" he asked, staring at me. "If you're not here for violence or love, what are you here for? Certainly my face isn't pretty enough right now to deserve a stop-off."

I snorted, trying to show my disgust, even though it was only so I could hide a laugh. Like him or not, Arne was a funny motherfucker.

"Are you still interested in winning me over again?" I asked dryly.

Light shone in his bright eyes. "Of course."

"How far are you willing to go?"

"As far as you make me," he said, and then started to stand from his bench. "I'll do anyth—"

I put a hand on his shoulder and shoved him back down to keep him seated. My eyes darted over his head, taking in the rest of the hall to make sure no one had started watching us. "Sit down, man. Don't draw attention."

Conversation down the table continued like normal. People laughed. Others argued. One girl's hands in line gesticulated wildly in the air, distracting me as she regaled a group of boys with a story.

Arne gulped, craning his neck to stare up at me, food forgotten. "I'll do anything I have to," Arne repeated, nodding like a good little hound. "I'll go on my hands and knees and kiss your feet, if that's what you wish, little fox."

I scrunched my nose, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Groveling is fine and dandy, Arne, but if you want my forgiveness, I need action from you. Show me I can trust you. Prove yourself to me."

It didn't feel good talking down to him. It did feel righteous having all this control. I worried if I ever got any more authority over these men, my big-ass head would cause me to float away into the clouds.

"Tell me what I must do."

A thought came to me. I pursed my lips. "Who's to say you're not still on the academy's payroll right now, hmm? I can't even trust you now, Arne."

"Well, you could ask Sven."

I perked an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Pretty sure the wolf has been tailing me every minute since we returned. He's sneaky . . . except it's hard to stay hidden out in the open when I'm walking down the cobblestones in broad daylight."

I tilted my head, curious about that. It was so odd to me—leaving here with Sven Torfen my greatest enemy and bully, and returning with him as my most threatening ally.

I couldn't make heads or tails of it. I'll need to speak with him soon, too. Find out what the hell has changed since I was taken by the elves.

Sven was still a grade-A asshat, yet at least his ire wasn't directed at me. I much preferred the obsessive wolf shifter directing it at Arne.

"The Hersirs have not spoken to me since you've returned, Rav," Arne said, his face taking a serious expression. "I promise."

"I can't trust your promises, Arne. That's what hurts me the most." A claw wrapped around my heart and squeezed. With another heavy sigh, I said, "Let's see how far we can go. Walk with me."

"All right." He lifted his hands as he started to move. "Can I . . . stand?"

I smirked at the silly bastard. "Gonna be hard to walk with me if you don't, isn't it?"

Once he was on his feet, he brought his bowl to the rubbish table, left it there, and dusted his hands off. We walked outside into the brisk night. I shivered in my short-sleeve tunic and crossed my arms.

Walking a step behind me, Arne said, "Here, it's cold out. Take my jacket."

He wore a blue long-sleeve coat to protect his slender frame from the elements, which he started to take off. It was more of a fashion statement, I'd always thought.

"I'm fine," I said stubbornly. "It hasn't even started snowing yet."

Arne gazed up at the dark sky. "It will soon. Winter in the Isle is no joke, Rav. What happened to that fur coat we bought you?"

That's right. We. He was there when I got my new wardrobe—he made that possible. I cleared my throat, staring at the ground as I walked. "In my room. I forgot it."

Arne said nothing, silence falling over us as we meandered away from the mess hall, out into the open campus grounds.

Far to my right as we made our way south, I could see the stark edges of the wall that surrounded the campus, the gates closed off. To my left, near the first line of trees that led deeper into campus, I felt the strange sensation of someone watching me.

When I glanced over there quickly, I thought I spotted yellow eyes out my peripheral, but it was gone once I stared at the dark, yawning trees.

Arne chuckled. "Told you he's out there."

Sven Torfen, eh? I'll be damned.

"What is it you need from me, little fox?" Arne asked. He stopped walking. "Just ask, and I'll be your courier."

I stopped with him, facing the iceshaper. "A courier is exactly what I need." My voice lowered, just in case, and I leaned in. "I want you to find the Lepers Who Leapt for me. That is if you don't already know where they are." Raising an expectant brow, I studied his face.

He shook his head, golden hair bobbing on his shoulders. "I don't. But I swear I'll find out for you."

"Good."

"Can I ask why?"

"No."

His face tightened. Dipping his chin, chewing on the inside of his cheek—likely from frustration—he nodded glumly. "Very well. I won't pry."

His eyes lifted. I stared into them, noting the speck of green and purple that danced in his blue orbs. The man was Viking stock, through and through, even if he didn't physically resemble our brawny forefathers.

He had the attitude of a Viking. The temperament. Cool under pressure. Knowing when to speak, when to shut up.

Arne understood the predicament he was in with me. I didn't need to tell him one more fuck-up would cost him our relationship—and any good will hanging on by a thread—forever. He could read it in my face, just as I could sense the sincerity in his.

We both turned away at the same time, before our faces could get any closer. He cleared his throat and I felt a flush come to my cheeks. "If that's all, Ravinica, I'll be going. I'll need to plan my escape out of the academy if I'm going to find—"

"Who sent you, Arne?" I abruptly asked.

His head whipped over. "Pardon?"

"To spy on me. Who was giving you your orders?"

He looked to the ground, ashamed. "My directives always came from Hersir Kelvar. Don't know if he was working with anyone else. I suspect he was."

I let out a hum. It was as I thought: The spy master was a dangerous man, pulling the strings around here.

Problem was I didn't know which puppet his strings were attached to. I'd need to find out more about him if I was going to start some sort of mutiny, because he'd be the first line of defense against me.

Notably, Arne Gornhodr could prove invaluable on that front. In time, I'll pry all the information out of Arne I need. He used me, so I can't feel bad for using him, either.

"Do you know why Kelvar wanted me?" I asked.

His headshake was tiny. "No, lass. I was never told that part. Only that my sister would meet her grisly end if I didn't do as he told."

With a harrumph, anger rising through me—for what Arne had put me through, for what Kelvar had put him through—I nodded slowly and tried to control my rage.

"For what it's worth, Arne, I'm sorry for the stress the Whisperer put on you. I know it wasn't an easy decision to make."

End of the day, he chose family over friendship.

I wouldn't have done it if the roles were reversed, unless it was my mother. Then, well, I suppose I can understand why he did what he did.

It didn't make me feel any better. It wasn't just the deception. It was the fact he'd led me on for so long with his silver tongue and fake smiles.

I was disgusted at the thought, so I turned away before the disgust could show itself on my face. "Hersir Kelvar interrogated you, he led to my capture, and he's been doing something awful to Magnus Feldraug too, I fear."

Arne lifted his brow at that last part. "Aye, lass, he's a menace. Much more than people realize. If this academy is a serpent, he is its shadow."

My gaze lifted, shock ripping through me with a small gasp.

Arne reeled, brow furrowing. "Rav? What's wrong?"

The serpent's shadow. The prophecy from Elayina.

Gods, there were so many moving parts of this whole damned thing, I couldn't keep them straight in my mind.

Violently shaking my head, I stammered, "I-It's nothing. I've just heard that phrase before. The serpent's shadow."

And it had nothing to do with Hersir Kelvar. It had to do with me .

Arne's face was a blank canvas, confusion clear on his fine, bruised features.

"I've got to go," I said, feeling suddenly tense and frightful. "Best not get seen colluding for too long in public."

With a small bow of his head, he said, "Right. I'll have the information you seek within the week, all things going well."

He started walking away, without a hug, kiss, or fare-thee-well from me. The squeeze on my heart tightened, and I realized it wasn't a claw trying to pop the damn muscle. It was the serpent's tail, coiled around the inside of me as I watched Arne Gornhodr walk away with his shoulders slumped.

"Arne," I called out.

His posture stiffened. He froze, wheeling around in the dark shadows.

"Thank you," I eked out.

Another furrowed brow gave him a flabbergasted look. "No, Ravinica. Thank you ."

I scoffed. "For what?" Treating you like a dog, demanding things of you to win back my heart? Using you?

"For giving me a second chance," he said, "when I deserve nothing but your contempt and hatred."