Chapter 40 | Ravinica

Chapter 40

Ravinica

WE WERE CLOTHED AGAIN , walking away from the waterfall that changed all three of our lives. Down the slope, lost in our thoughts, with my hands entwined in both my mates' palms on either side of me.

These were my golden two, with hair to match—Corym's bright silver, nearly platinum; Arne's a more traditional dirty blond, like a wheatfield on a summer's day.

I was content, even after telling Arne about the assassination mission, the family history, and my own deceptions when coming here.

The iceshaper shrugged it off just like Sven and Grim had. It seemed I'd been holding onto a secret these men truly didn't care about—not nearly as much as I had, anyway.

My doubts were unfounded. I could trust all three of the men involved with my life, and that was utterly reassuring. Now there was only Magnus to lock in.

After my story, walking through the woods and feeling much better about myself than when I had come here, Arne said, "So to get this right, you're not going to kill me?"

"After what we just did? How could I?" I quipped with a roguish smile and waggling eyebrows.

He blushed, returning my smile. "True. I certainly didn't expect to find myself limping out of that cave—more likely for you, I admit. I can't say it was unpleasant."

I laughed. The sound carried through the whipping wind and trees. Even torrential weather couldn't bring my mood down. Not now.

Glancing over at Corym, I quirked my eyebrows. "And you, Corym? Was that, uh . . . to your liking?"

He paused for a moment. "My people never turn down an opportunity to pursue beauty, no matter who it belongs to."

Arne smirked. "Aw, elf, did you just call me beautiful?"

Corym scoffed. "Careful, iceshaper. I only mean to say my people are much more prone to the kind of behavior we just partook in than, say, humans."

Arne clicked his tongue. "It's more common than you might think, elf. Even with humans."

"Aye, well, my leader in Alfheim has four wives and two husbands. So, there's that."

"Point made." Surprise splashed across Arne's face. "That might be a bit more uncommon here."

My eyebrows flew up my forehead. "Gods-damn. Six partners? How does he find any time to get anything done?"

"How do you?" Corym shot back, smiling. "With five?"

Warmth spread across my cheeks. "Touché."

"Besides, they don't get anything done. That's part of the problem."

I mulled that over. "They?"

"My leader is neither she nor he, and yet both."

I found that refreshing. Transcending gender, as it were. Our world had only recently, it seemed, started to be more accepting of identities such as that. It felt good knowing it was more commonplace in other worlds, and likely had been since the dawn of their people. Since the dawn of ours too, honestly. Just kept in the dark for far too long.

Speaking of the dark, it was the dead hours of night now, the wee hours of morning before the sun rose and the moon sank. Clouds dotted the sky in gray-black bubbles, ready to drop rain on our heads all through Sunday.

I was fine with that, as long as we found a suitable place for Corym to stay, while I figured things out at Vikingrune.

As we made it toward Academy Hill, I stopped the group. "What's the plan, Arne?" I asked, deferring to the man who had said he already took care of this moment in anticipation.

"Well, it has to be the underground tunnels, right? Can't exactly waltz through the front gates with an elf on our hands, like we did to leave."

"True."

"I have a place set out for him where he should be safe," the iceshaper continued. "At least until next term starts in a few weeks when snow starts to fall. Once the academy goes underground, we may have to move him."

"That works with me," I said, shrugging. I knew any place where we put Corym would only be temporary. That was enough for now. "Corym?" I asked, looking over at the dashingly handsome man.

"It works with me too, deceiver."

Arne winced at the nickname. I did too.

I was sure Corym hadn't meant anything by it . . . I had to remember he was also the man who offered me his magical elven dagger to slit Arne's throat when we first met. Gods above, and now he's . . . well, gotten much closer to the "deceiver" than he ever imagined, I'm sure.

I put a hand on Arne's shoulder, gesturing to his hair. "Don't worry, Arnie. You can be our very own Deceiver in Gold. We know how he actually ended up being, eh?"

Corym let out a deep sound, nodding. "Lord Talasin is well-respected among my people. It is certainly not a slight to be compared to such a legendary figure."

I smiled crookedly at Arne, convinced that was the most I was going to get out of Corym.

Arne shrugged. "Suits me, then."

We continued on toward the western side of the mountain so we could make our way into the underground labyrinth.

It had become old hat, trudging through the winding corridors beneath Vikingrune Academy. I could nearly do it in the dark, though I didn't need to because a torch was lit near the entrance of one of the caves.

"Convenient," I said with a small smile, hoisting the torch in my hand.

We moved forward, slowly, making sure we took all the correct turns and didn't get lost. Eventually, the narrow halls started to open up into wider corridors, with a few round rooms and expertly hewn chambers mixed in.

I imagined the chambers would be used for studies, or bunking, once the academy went underground to stay here for next term.

I could only imagine the chaos it would cause with everyone living here, together, during the darkest parts of winter. Is the season really that terrible on the Isle? Everyone sure is making it out to be. I supposed I would learn soon enough.

We meandered from one chamber to the next, heading to Corym's secret chamber. From there, Arne and I would take the ladder into the basement of Mimir Tomes. We would sneak out into the academy and everything would be fine.

But we would be without Corym, sadly. I swore to myself I would come visit him whenever I could, whenever it was safe to do without getting caught.

"Not far from here," Arne said, nudging his chin forward past another crooked archway.

We stepped into the chamber ahead and I heard a soft sound of moving rubble. Thinking it was a tunnel rat or some other underground rodent, I thought nothing of it.

Then I froze a few steps ahead when something dark passed in front of my torchlight.

Inhaling sharply, I whispered, "Did anyone else see that?"

Arne and Corym froze ahead of me.

Footsteps now, to my left, with my two golden mates rooted to the ground.

Our heads swiveled.

A figure emerged in the archway to the right , and our necks snapped over on turrets. Another figure appeared in the opening to the left, where I'd first heard the noise. Then two more.

They were all dressed in black, with cloaks and the emblem of Vikingrune Academy splayed across their hauberks and helmets.

Huscarls.

"Fuck," Arne grumbled.

"Arne!" I shouted, instinctively, whipping my gaze accusingly at him.

He spun around, lifting his hands into fists. "It's not me, Ravinica, I swear it!"

More soldiers appeared, hemming us in.

Corym, who never went anywhere without his cruel blade, pulled it from its sheaths with a metallic rasp.

Arne's fists crackled with energy, until he held daggers made of crystallized ice in either hand.

I could tell by the expression on his face he was being truthful. He looked frightened, utterly surprised. His head kept wheeling left and right.

More and more figures emerged, from every entrance in the low-ceilinged chamber—at least five archways in all.

The Huscarls had picked a perfect spot to ambush us. They had chosen well, as if knowing we would stride through this section at some point.

As if knowing . . .

How else would they know if not for Arne telling them?

Betrayal sank to my bones, tightening around my heart.

Please gods, not again!

If this was really happening, after everything we had just been through—everything we had done —I would lose my fucking shit.

Claustrophobia set in. I wasn't used to fighting in such close quarters. We were under the academy, probably one of the longhouses where someone lived.

Shouts, steel, magic—they could only be muffled so much. People might hear us.

I didn't want more blood on my hands. Gods knew I already had enough with these men, after killing those countless Huscarls in the field in Delaveer Forest. We'd gotten away with that, so far. But this was pushing the risk factor to untold heights.

I backed up with Arne and Corym surrounding, forming a protective layer around me. Their weapons pointed out toward our enemies, who remained silent as more appeared.

They went from five to ten—until they had every entrance blocked off, spears and shields at the ready. Deadly eyes looking out through crossguard helms, stern scowls on their faces.

If not Arne . . . then who?

Then I heard the air burst out of Arne's lungs with a gasp. "W-What—no!"

And Frida Gorndeen stepped into the fray, past the black cloaks of the Huscarls.

Arne's sister pointed at Corym, snarling, "Brought the pointy-ear right to you, as promised, boys."

My jaw dropped.

"What, brother?" Frida spat at Arne's blanched, flabbergasted face. "You thought we were just going to let our golden ticket waltz out of camp to the caves every night, without repercussion?"

"He is not the enemy, sister, and he's not a pawn on a gameboard!" Arne screamed, waving his icy hands in the air.

"It doesn't matter what he is, brother. Vikingrune Academy wants him—"

"Since when do the Lepers Who Leapt give a fuck what Vikingrune Academy wants?!" Arne tossed his words with vitriol, as if he knew this was the end of the line between us.

But it wasn't. By the tears at the corners of his eyes, his reaction, his lament, and his willingness to defend Corym and me . . . I knew he wasn't the culprit here.

He had known about this ambush as much as I had.

It was not the end of the line between us, so long as we lived. We have to live. And so does Corym.

Fucking hells.

I counted the men in the room, ignoring Frida. There were twelve Huscarls I could see. Shitty odds, for sure. But I'd also seen what Corym could do with those swords. I was no slouch either—I had my spear at the ready on my back. Arne was probably already calculating ways he could block off archways by sealing them with ice walls.

"We fought togeth —" Arne began, but Corym shut him up with a hand on his shoulder.

"Deceiver," he grunted in warning.

That's right. Frida did fight with us against those Huscarls, along with Dieter and five other Lepers.

And now this? Odin fuck me.

Frida ignored her brother's clipped words. Thrusting an angry finger at Corym, with hate on her face, she hissed, "This prize of yours brought danger to our entire camp! With him gone, we are safe. Giving him to the academy that wants him so badly was the only way to ensure our safety, brother."

Arne shook his head fervently. "But—"

"You did the same thing with her!" Frida's ire turned to me, her finger lodged in my direction.

"It was a mistake , Frida! I understand your need to keep the Lepers safe, but . . . not like this !"

Frida lifted her chin defiantly, glancing away. "It's too late, Arne. What's done is done. I'm sorry you don't understand."

"Does Dieter know about this? Tell me, Frida. Does your leader know you're slinking out here in the underground, like rats in a cellar?"

She bared her teeth, bending her knees in a fighting stance while curling her spindly fingers into fists. "Don't talk about Dieter to me, Arne. You don't know him like I do. You don't know any of the Lepers like I do, because you aren't one and you never will be! Stop trying to protect us! You did what you could for us. Now I have to keep us ahead of the game. With the elf, we are in danger. I've bought us more peace."

Arne looked struck. My heart hurt for him. The answer was no , in my mind—Dieter did not know of her subterfuge, or he'd be here. Frida would be proud to admit it. Instead, she deflected, somehow bringing the blame onto her brother.

In a way, it worked. I understood it. The Lepers were perpetually in danger of being eradicated by the academy.

Now, with this "prize," my resilient mate Corym E'tar, she could buy her people their freedom.

I hated that it made sense. I hated that it had come to this, because I'd always compared myself favorably to the Lepers—even likening myself to them when my magic had been dormant.

Even with the shouting match going on, I couldn't focus on Frida's vitriol. I noticed Corym's eyes were darting, calculating a way out of this.

We couldn't go backward—we'd trap ourselves. I presumed Huscarls had gone through the passages and wheeled around to our back, to cut off any chance of escape.

No, the only option was to go through the mass of bodies in front of us . . . including Arne's sister.

My stomach soured at the thought, fear and sorrow squeezing my heart as I saw Arne's narrow-eyed expression, knowing he had recognized the same thing as me.

Mist drifted from the thin ice daggers in his hands, which he held without being affected by the cold. Corym's hands loosened on his blade, which didn't mean he was giving up, but simply meant he was ready to roll into his deadly rhythm of swordplay. When others tensed, he became calmer.

I didn't have foresight, but I could see this going very badly very fast. Lots of blood spilled across the stones and walls. Dead Huscarls, dead brother and sister, and probably dead elf and bog-blood.

Fuck.

The Huscarls raised their spears, leveling them at us, forming a shield wall around the perimeter of the room.

They marched toward us, boots rumbling the ground.

My heart thundered against my ribs. I hadn't drawn my spear yet. My eyes scanned left and right, finding nothing—no way out of this predicament we'd stumbled upon.

Corym and Arne advanced in front of me.

The soldiers closed the gap to ten feet in a hurry—

And I lunged in front of Corym and Arne, between the two golden beauties. "Wait!" I shouted, slashing a hand through the air.

The Huscarls paused.

"Death solves nothing," I said.

It was comical coming from me, I knew. Hypocritical. But these guards didn't know what we'd done. They would only find out if Frida opened her big mouth to tell them . . . which would also put her up shit's creek.

The Huscarls eyed each other.

I glanced over at Corym, the expression on my face sinking into dismal despair. "Can you wait a little longer, love?" I whispered.

His perfect brow furrowed. " Lunis'ai ?"

"For us."

His jaw clenched, lips pursing. I knew how much he wanted to fight for his freedom.

"I'll find a way," I croaked, fighting back tears. "I promise."

Slowly, Corym lowered his sword.

Arne's eyes widened. "N-No, Ravinica, what are you doing?"

I knew if we fought and didn't die, it would have the same outcome as death itself. There was no way we could escape the consequences of brawling and killing Huscarls so close to Vikingrune Academy—literally right under their nose.

This fight would haunt us forever. It would doom me, Arne, and Corym. Whereas if we held off and surrendered . . . we could maybe regather and fight another day.

Corym understood that, it seemed, when he searched my pleading eyes. Arne wanted blood, vengeance, to prove himself to me. But the elf knew what I knew, and could read the pieces on the chessboard as well as anyone.

"I understand, lunis'ai . And I believe you."

He sheathed his sword on his back.

Arne inhaled sharply.

Even Frida looked shocked, standing behind the Huscarls like a coward, waiting for the blood to spill.

My shoulders slumped as Corym stepped forward from me and Arne.

He put his wrists together in front of him, like a prisoner ready to be shackled. "Take me, and leave these two alone," he announced in his thick accent. "I am the one you want."

With that, Corym E'tar found himself a captive of greedy humans for the second time in a single day.

And I felt my heart shatter.