Page 26 of Into the Isle

“He was far away.”

Why is this man resisting taking my apology, arguing with what I say? “Eirik did not—”

“Eirik Halldan is a Drengr, a warrior, and has earned his place captaining this ship,” Arne spat, lifting his head. “He’s not going to show you preferential treatment. He’s doing you a favor that way. Trust me.”

I was startled at his outburst, yet I agreed with it. “Good,” I said simply. “I don’t want special treatment. I want to pave my own way. Which means making friends.”

“You aren’t supposed to have friends this early on. Look at Rolf. He’s as friendless as they come.” Arne tossed his chin back over his shoulder, at the large, sullen-looking man behind him on a bench.

“Don’t be a dick,” Rolf grunted. “That’s not nice.”

“It’s true,” Arne replied. “I’m not nice, Rolf. I’m honest.”

Rolf shook his head, muttering to himself, and continued to row.

I raised a brow, watching them converse. Arne could say whatever he wanted about friendship, but I knew comrades when I saw them. These two men knew each other more than they were letting on.

“How do you know how to do all that Shaping and rune stuff as an initiate?” I asked Arne.

“I’m not an initiate. I’m a second-year cadet. Rolf is my ward; the initiate chosen from my village this year. I am to him what Eirik is to you. Except we’re not related.”

I smiled. “Ah, so you do know each other.”

“Of course we do,” Arne drawled. He was starting to sweat while rowing, so he put the oar down in his lap to stare up at me. “I wouldn’t call someone I don’t know friendless. That’s a douchey thing to say. I’m not like Ulf Torfen over there.”

I followed his to the man who had tried to accost me. He was nursing his humiliation over portside, with a few other boys he talked to.

Ulf reminded me of Damon. He reminded me of many men from my village, like Ivan, those kids who threw rocks, my stepfather. The list went on.

“He’ll be planning his retribution,” Arne said, “so watch out for him and his clan. The Torfen pack.”

“Right,” I said. “You call them ‘pack.’ With a name ending in ‘fen,’ which reminds me of old Fenrir wolf, I’m assuming Ulf is a wolf shifter.”

“Correct. They’re thick as thieves, the Torfens. Led by their patriarch Salos Torfen. Big donor at the academy. It’s why they’re such a big deal, and why you need to watch your six from here on out.”

My brow jumped up my forehead, deep lines forming. “Donor?”

“What?” Arne scoffed, smirking. “Did you think the school was apolitical? You’ll need to toss aside your naivety if you plan on making it at our cutthroat academy, girl.”

“I’d prefer if you called me Ravinica rather than ‘girl’ or ‘lass,’ Arne Gornhodr.”

“How about my little fox?” he grunted. “You’re as argumentative and smart as one.”

I tilted my head. A strange sense of excitement hummed through my body when he gave me the title, even if it was a backhanded compliment. I’d never had someone call me anything other than the various alterations of my name, or bog-blood, swamp-bred, things of that nature. Not very flattering.

Pushing down the thrilling sensation, I gave Arne a small smile. “How about ‘friend’?”

He pouted, tilting his head left to right as if thinking it over. “Nah. I already offered you that once.”

I stifled a gasp, taken aback. My eyes flashed wide, which only made his smile grow. He stood from his bench, our heights equal.

“Peace, Ravinica,” he said while sticking his hand out for me to shake. “I’m only kidding. What made you change your mind so quickly?”

I shrugged, and this time I took his hand and shook it, as if making a business deal. “I figure I’ll need allies to make it at Vikingrune, and you seem like a good one.”

“Opportunistic. Survivalist. I like it. Even though I told you already not to make friends this early.”

He continued to shake my hand for a moment too long. Instead of it becoming awkward, I was more drawn to him, to his mirthful blue eyes. The man had an impish personality, and I enjoyed having someone I could spar words with. Gods knew I’d been lacking that at Selby.

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