Chapter 27 | Ravinica

Chapter 27

Ravinica

NEXT DAY WAS THE FIRST full day of classes since my return to Vikingrune Academy. I promised Dagny I'd attend all my classes and wouldn't skip any.

"Finals are two weeks away, little missy, in case it slipped your mind," she scolded me from behind the RA counter, wagging her finger.

I lowered my head to hide my smirk, trying to show her an ounce of shame. "Yes, mother. I'm aware."

"Hey!" she snapped, and my head whipped up with a smile on my face.

"What?" I whined innocently. "You're the one calling me little missy . I think I prefer ‘little fox,' ‘silvermoon,' ‘little sneak.' Lunis'ai is my favorite. All I'm saying is, you have options, Dag."

She raised her chin haughtily, crossing her arms. "Yes, well, I'm not trying to . . ."

Trailing off, Dagny found something interesting to look at on the counter—her glasses, which appeared off her face just as often as they were on. She twiddled with the frames, blowing on the spectacles to clean them with her shirt.

"Not what , hmm?" I pried, dipping my head forward. Begging for her to say it.

"Not trying to have sex with you, little missy . Like those brutes are."

I threw my head back and laughed. "You sure?"

Her face went volcano-red, adorably.

"Hey, hey," I said, reaching out to put a hand on her knuckles. She flinched, which made me feel bad. "I'm just teasing, bestie."

The fierce blush to her cheeks did make me wonder. Trying to distract her from her embarrassment, I said, "Speaking of which, have you, uh, found anyone that's struck your fancy, Dag? You've been here two years."

She shrugged and put her glasses on, blinking at me. "I'm too busy for that nonsense."

I imagined Grim pushing me up against a tree. Magnus bending me over the table in Mimir Tomes, or wrapping my thighs around his length. "It's not nonsense when you're in the middle of it," I murmured, and then cleared my throat, which had gone suddenly dry and deep.

Strain built between us, filling the silence.

She flapped her hand at me. "Will you go to your classes? I'm busy here!" She swept her arms out wide to gesture at the counter, filled with textbooks and paperwork.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," I drawled.

As I headed out the door of Nottdeen Quarter, I heard her voice. "And will you wear that damn fur coat you bought at Isleton? It's getting chilly out and you're gonna catch a cold, girl!"

I snorted. "Yes mommmm!"

Dagny was right. The temperature atop Academy Hill had dropped precipitously since the last time I was here. The chill didn't reach your bones as badly at the bottom of the mountain, where I'd been staying with the elves.

Up here? It was cold as bog-balls.

My first class, History & Politics with Hersir Thorvi Kardeen, brought me back to the large cliffside auditorium of Dorymir Hall. It was a welcome reunion, stomping down the stairs in the stadium-style building toward the stage.

The windows up top were shuttered to prepare for winter's bite. I recognized a lot of the faces of students who attended other classes with me. One notable absence, of course, was Astrid Dahlmyrr.

I was still getting snide looks from her friends, who I assumed were plotting my demise. They seemed to blur together, creating a trio of loathing, nameless faces.

Magnus was perched on the far side of the seats, leg crossed over his knee, lounging in his customary longcoat. I sat next to him, and we smiled demurely at each other.

I had a feeling both of us were still thinking of the tawdry situation we'd found ourselves in last night.

Our diminutive professor, Hersir Kardeen, who preferred to be called Thorvi, which weirded out many of the students, arrived on-stage in full splendor—Coke-bottle glasses, frizzy hair sticking out at all ends, black robe swishing behind her.

She had us open our textbooks near page three-hundred, which was a full hundred-fifty pages further than I'd ever read. Shit, I'm really behind. Dag's right, I've got two weeks until finals and a lot of catching up to do.

History & Tomes had moved on from the Taldan Wars and was now focusing on the layout and political structures of the Isle in medieval times.

It was a lecture I could sleep through. I'd promised Dagny I wouldn't miss any class . . . but had said nothing about staying awake for them.

Souring thoughts filled my head. What's with me? I used to be so interested in history and learning. I read through every book in Selby Village, cover to cover, multiple times.

Where did that zest for scholarly pursuits go?

I figured it had less to do with the men I was fawning over these days, and more to do with the fact I had started to live history, which was much more exciting.

Not many people—or any people, really—could say they had lived with the elves for a month. Hells below, prior to a few weeks ago, they hadn't been sighted in centuries!

I made it through History & Tomes with only slightly drooping eyes, and Hersir Kardeen pulled me aside afterward and gave me a packet to study for finals, to accelerate my catch-up.

"Glad to have your butt in the seat, Ravinica," she told me before I departed. With a slight smile, she poked her glasses up the bridge of her nose—much like Dagny liked to do. In fact, I saw a lot of Dagny in Thorvi Kardeen, and wondered if my friend couldn't one day become just like her.

"I'll be wanting to hear more about your exploits with the Ljosalfar when there's time," she said, a coy expression on her face. "Perhaps when we go underground after finals. Won't be a lot to do then but swap stories."

I chuckled and smiled at the professor. "Yes ma'am. Sure thing."

"It must have been fascinating. Lucky girl." The glimmer in her eyes was bright with enthusiasm. I was envious of that childlike wonder she had at her age for academia.

"Yeah . . ." I said, scratching the back of my head. "Fascinating and lucky. That's one way to describe it, Hersir."

As I headed out of class, feeling awkward because I didn't want to tell Thorvi that frustrating and scary-as-hell were better descriptors, I lifted the packet she'd given me. "Thanks for this, ma'am. I'll be sure to ace the test, even with missing the last few weeks."

"I'm sure you will, Ravinica." She smiled warmly at me. "I see a bright future for you at this academy."

Yeah, I thought as I climbed the stairs. If I don't burn it down first.

My spear clashed with the haft of Grim's axe in a wooden thud that jarred the bones in my forearms.

Clenching my teeth, I stabbed—

And he stepped back, pulled down with the curve of his axe blade, and yanked my spear right out of my hands.

My palms opened, a rash gliding along them, as I watched my spear tumble to the ground. "Shit."

Behind me, Sven Torfen growled, "The hell was that, little menace? Gone soft on us?"

I scowled over my shoulder. "Fuck you, Sven. Don't you have your own apprentices to yell at?"

With one leg perched on a tree trunk behind us, hiding him from the afternoon breeze, he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're more fun. My other two are sparring as we speak. My third is strangely missing."

Bastard had a strand of slick hair draped over his forehead like it had been planned, it was so perfectly drooping. I wanted to walk up and run my hands through his hair just to mess it up.

He fixed me with an expectant glare on his studly face, leaning his head forward.

Shit. That's right. Astrid was one of his charges.

"Erm, sorry," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck.

He laughed petulantly, leaning back. "It's no bother. Don't have to worry about her pining after me anymore."

My blood boiled when he said that. He was so snide, even now—even when he was speaking to me rather than bullying and tormenting me.

It was a different kind of torment. I had heard offhandedly from Astrid about her plans to have Sven "bend her over," shortly before her untimely demise.

Now I felt like shit thinking about her, like it was all my fault she was dead. And Sven was rubbing salt on the wound.

Hersir Axel Osfen walked up to us with a frown. The stout, red-bearded, bald teacher looked stern. "What's all this chitchat? Torfen, don't you have students to be training?"

"That's what I said!" I yelled.

"Why's your spear on the ground?" Osfen growled at me. "Think I'm gonna go light on you ‘cuz the elves took you? All the more reason to get better, initiate."

Sven chuckled and wandered off as I bent down to swoop it up. "Sorry, sir," I grumbled.

I faced off with Grim again, as the Hersir wandered off to harass other students sparring on the flat expanse of Tyr Meadow. The yellow and red autumn grasses were starting to peel away to show hard soil underneath, a sign of the season to come.

Grim said, "You are moving a bit slowly, little sneak."

My mouth fell open. "Et tu, Brute?"

He smiled at me, but the smile wavered after a moment. His beard was nice and trimmed, highlighting his handsome mug up there in the clouds where he stood so tall. He looked positively imposing with that battleaxe in his hand, his black-and-gray hide armor and fur coating his body like he was going to battle.

Allegedly, ever since my disappearance, Grim had started wearing his armor full-time, as if the battle was coming to his doorstep. I suppose, in a way, it might be.

He asked, "Is something distracting you, love?"

I shook my head diligently. Off to the side, out my peripheral, I caught Randi and Ulf Torfen laughing together, rather than sparring.

In my opinion, Randi was a poor judge of character if Ulf was the guy she was going after. Then again, so was I, since Sven got my blood heated and was also an asshole, and Magnus was a certified crazy person. Or was that Grim who was the crazy, angry person? And Arne was a traitor.

Fucking hell, huh? I have no room to talk.

Grim stepped forward. "Ravinica . . ."

I swallowed hard and faced him. "Yes?"

"What's going on?"

I wasn't really sure. It was surreal being back at the academy, training as if nothing had ever happened. I'd gone through a lifetime of change over the past month, had narrowly escaped death more than once, and now I was expected to swing a sword and stab a spear at my lover, and pretend he was an enemy? An enemy—the elves—who weren't actually the enemy, as it turned out?

"Are you worried about the finals duel against me?" he asked.

I flared my nostrils. "No. Absolutely not." With a sigh, my shoulders dropped, my spear lowered. "I don't know. It's just a whirlwind coming back here, is all."

This teasing from Sven, the training from Grim, the stern-but-heartfelt words from Hersir Osfen, the laughing from Randi . . .

None of it will last if I try to disrupt the status quo here.

Perhaps it was the doubt of my new self-proclaimed mission that was staying my hand and making me useless.

Grim moved like he wanted to wrap his arms around me and console me. The damn teddy bear always had my wellbeing at heart, and it made me giddy to see the pained look on his face—pained because his little sneak was struggling.

Alas, we were in the middle of Combat & Strategy class. Couldn't rightly shag right there on the meadow in front of everyone.

When I saw Randi packing up her things early, throwing on her backpack as Ulf begged her to stay, I furrowed my brow and headed over. "Randi? What's up? There's still a half hour left of class."

She smiled at me over her shoulder. Her cheeks were darker than usual, and I wondered if she hadn't snuck a kiss with her beau in the shadows of a tree when I hadn't been looking. "Oh, hey, Ravin. Yeah, I got leave to go early for prep."

"Prep?"

Her brilliant smile widened on her face, proud. "I got accepted to become an acolyte-in-training. Happened when you were, uh, gone."

My heart leapt for her. "Gods, Randi, that's amazing! Congrats."

"Thanks, babe." She winked at me. "Tomekeeper wants me trained up by winter, so I can work the stacks when everyone goes underground."

"Work the stacks?" I suppressed a shudder at Tomekeeper Dahlia's name being mentioned.

"Yup. Once I beat Grim's ass in the finals duel and graduate from initiate, my acolyte duties will basically take up my entire cadet year. I'll be working ‘field duty' in Mimir Tomes soon."

I blinked at her. "Mimir Tomes? You don't say . . ."

After a quick hug to send her on her way, my mind was already turning with the possibilities. I hated that Arne, or Magnus, or maybe my entire group of men had turned me into a schemer.

Here I was, recalling my conversation with Magnus about stealing secret books out of Mimir Tomes to study, learn about Lady Elayina, and the academy's attachment to the ancient half-elf seer, so I could possibly use that against them.

And now it appeared I had a potential insider.