Page 87 of Into the Isle

I shrugged and accepted the hard-earned gift. Snagging a pen from the pen-mug on the table, I said, “Are the pens special, too?”

Her frown deepened. “Juvenile.”

I winked, she smirked, and I said my thanks and set off. I didn’t run into any trouble on my way to my first class. I had a bounce to my step, eager to get the learning started. To “embrace the scholar inside me,” as Dagny put it. I’d eaten in the mess hall early, practically before anyone had woken up, so I was ready to go. I’d had my fill of coffee and I was buzzing.

Students were trickling in, dragging their feet.

I noticed one initiate was already seated at the front, same position as yesterday: Magnus Feldraug.

Hurrying down the stairs to the first level closest to the stage, I plopped down next to him. Then I peeled the first page of the yellow pad back and set it on my lap.

Magnus lounged in his seat, head tilted on the top of the seatback as he stared up at the high-vaulted ceiling and looked utterly bored. “Morning, silvermoon.”

I smiled over at him, though he didn’t look at me. It gave me a chance to admire his pale, gaunt face, and memorize all the dips severe cuts of his jawline. “You know, everyone seems to want to give me a nickname here, but I think I like that one the most.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Magnus glanced over at me with a thin brow meticulously perched. “You seem chipper today. How’s your calf?”

I looked down at the scrap of cloth wrapped around my wound, and shrugged. “Forgot about it, honestly. I think it’s healed.”

“And your side? Your face? Your arm?”

I leveled my gaze at him. I get it. I’m getting my ass kicked over here on a regular basis. I thought of the corniest joke possible and said, “You should see the other guy.”

He snorted, giving me a hint of a smile. It was the most I was going to get out of him. “True. Astrid only got out of the infirmary late last night.”

“How do you know?”

“I keep tabs on people I don’t like.”

“Have any tabs on me?”

“Blank slate. Nice try.”

I tapped my pen against the pad on my lap. Our eyes locked for a bit too long. His gray eyes were fascinating, almost light blue in texture.

I glanced away first—at his customary trench coat, then the tattoos peeking out of the cuff along his wrist. “You still haven’t shown me your tattoos.”

“You’ve never asked.”

“Well? Can I see them?”

“Not here.” With a wink, he turned away from me to face the stage as Hersir Thorvi stepped onto the platform.

Thorvi’s huge glasses were extra reflective of the overhead lights today. It cast a glare toward me.

Out the corner of my mouth, just before the professor started speaking, I said, “You and Arne talked yesterday about doing something this weekend. I want in.”

Magnus seemed surprised. I could sense him staring at me as he said, “You don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“Exactly. That’s why I want in.”

“Daredevil, are you?”

I shrugged nonchalantly.

“You’ll have to talk to Arne,” Magnus whispered.

“Why? Does he lead you around like—”

---