Chapter 44 | Ravinica

Chapter 44

Ravinica

I PORED OVER THE FORBIDDEN text all night, locked away in my dorm room. Randi and Dagny had come through in the clutch, big time.

Most of the thin tome was filled with anecdotes, history, and hypotheses. But deep in the night, with my eyes getting droopy and the excitement of the last few days starting to weigh on me, I found what I was looking for: How to open a damned portal.

Specifically, I needed to know how to open an elven portal, here in Midgard.

As it turned out, and as I'd suspected, it was no easy task. There was a reason the humans had never been able to break the ward that would send them to the elven world.

I recalled a conversation between Corym and his sister, Deitryce, a month ago.

"Careful, brother. You say too much."

Those had been her words to him in warning. Now I understood them.

"The portal-blocking was a one-way ward, " Corym had told me, when he was trying to explain the history of our peoples' tenuous relationship. "Our ancestors cast it to keep humans out of Alfheim. Humans did not possess the power to keep elves out of Midgard."

Now the tome in front of me was telling me why that was the case: Because you needed to be of elven descent to open an elven portal.

Duh. It made so much sense. The answer was so simple, yet so unique to the problem that faced Vikingrune Academy.

Elven magic was strong, inherent to their species. Both Ljosalfar and Dokkalfar were expert mages. They had grown up with powers since birth, arcane magic flooding their veins.

I stood up and started pacing my room, lost in the swirl of my thoughts. Alone with only my mind to keep me company, I could think a bit clearer, dig a bit deeper.

The puzzle started to make more sense the longer I paced.

My head shot up, gazing out at the hidden moon behind the clouds outside my window. "It doesn't say only an elf can open a portal. It says only someone of elven descent can . . ."

I trailed off, talking to myself like a madwoman.

Was that phrase written on purpose, or was it a careless error? I doubted it was the latter.

". . . I'm of elven descent," I finished out loud.

When I heard the words in my own ears, from my own voice, they awoke something else inside me.

The visions of my past memories, from a life that hadn't even belonged to me. Echoes of a life I'd never lived, shown to be my Lady Elayina, my supposed ancestor.

Gods, what a day this had been.

I could remember the memories clearer. The four fragments, coming like chapters in a story—from a point of view that didn't connect me with either King Dannon or Lord Talasin, but perhaps someone near them. Someone who could record their heartbreaking history.

I thought of those memories in the context of Vikingrune Academy—the school founded after Dannon's death, after the Taldan Wars, and after the severing of the alliance between humans and Ljosalfar.

"What does the academy want?" I asked myself, rolling with my thoughts.

It hit me two seconds later, and my feet froze to the floorboards.

"They want the same thing Dannon wanted. The same thing he was willing to die to retrieve, and willing to do horrific things to Lady Amisara in order to obtain."

My lips parted, jaw falling to the floor.

"The Runesphere."

That ancient artifact, of which I knew little about. It was not spoken about in my Histories & Tomes class, other than in passing, because it was a well-kept secret that students didn't need to know about. Not if Vikingrune wanted to keep up the charade of their "Good Guy" attitude.

Lord Talasin, the Deceiver in Gold, had kept the Runesphere for the elves. It was an object said to power the magic that coursed through our veins. Talasin surmised it would become a dangerous weapon in the humans' hands.

"Probably a good assumption."

King Dannon had stolen Talasin's sister, Amisara, for himself—an elven queen who was wed to Dannon's own damned sister—in order to get his hands on that artifact.

Over three agonizing years, Lady Amisara was missing. The entire time, she whiled away, shackled in the dungeons of Dannon's castle. Right under the nose of Dannon's heartbroken sister, Amisara's wife.

And that entire time, Dannon forced himself on the poor noble elf and made her pump out children. Three of them, in rapid succession.

"One of them is Lady Elayina," I murmured, shaking my head incredulously.

In the end, Dannon had promised Talasin a trade: Lady Amisara for the Runesphere. Talasin accepted the hostage exchange, but was betrayed by the true deceiver, and killed by King Dannon.

Somewhere along the way, the historical memories became murky. Dannon died of disease—karma, I liked to think—and the Runesphere went missing from Midgard, popping back up in Alfheim years later.

I wished I had a roadmap to how things got so bleak, to then having the artifact back in its rightful place in Alfheim.

Alas, I didn't. I could only go off what I knew, and what I knew was damning enough.

Vikingrune Academy, or someone high in the ranks, was attempting to fulfill a vow King Dannon had made a thousand years ago.

The school was trying to retrieve the Runesphere.

And they needed to get to Alfheim to do it.

Which meant they needed to open a portal.

And they needed an elven descendant to do that.

More puzzle pieces fell neatly into place, quickly smothering my thoughts and tugging at my heart.

Now I understood why the Huscarls had captured me following my first meeting with Lady Elayina, when Arne had led them right to me. She doesn't talk to humans. But she spoke with me, and showed me something the academy must have assumed was important to their cause.

So they had wanted to take me. To question me.

My stomach dropped to the floor when I realized what Vikingrune now had in their possession, because of me and my treacherous heart.

"Corym!" I yelled frantically.

My voice bounced off the walls of my small dorm room, slapping me in the face. I put a hand to my rapidly sputtering heart. "Oh . . . gods above," I croaked. "What have I done?"

Corym E'tar was a proud man, like all elves. He was a warrior, and would never back down or surrender. Unless I told him to, like I did in the tunnels.

He had only listened to me to spare bloodshed.

What he wouldn't do, I knew, was give up his people.

Vikingrune Academy had my elven lover captive. Right now, while I paced my bedroom, devious men and women were probably trying to get him to talk, to aid them.

He never would. I knew him. Not in a million years would Corym E'tar be the one to open the portal to Alfheim.

It was at that moment that a choice presented itself to me, clear as day in a summer swelter.

One side of that choice risked ruining everything I had built, the bond I had formed . . . all for the sake of protecting people I didn't even know.

Or, conversely, I could damn those strangers to Hel . . . and selfishly try to hold tight to the love that even now squeezed my heart ragged.

With this choice, there was no winning.