Page 108 of Into the Isle

It seemed like such a simple question. Yet paired with it was a sense of betrayal and grief. I felt like a traitor to hesitate on completing my mother’s wishes—a vow I had made to her. I felt sad to seemingly crumble at the first sign of pressure, when I had otherwise been a stalwart defender of the Old Way.

In a way, I was just like Magnus: Trying to figure out why the fuck I was the way I was.

The man had certainly made my coming here much more complicated. Watching him comb through books at a hurried, frenetic pace, I was jealous of his resolve. His determination to uncover the truth about his history, while I was scared to find out things about mine.

The bloodrender knew what he wanted. His eyes never left the books he was immersed in. I didn’t bother him, already feeling guilty about coming here and prying him for information about his life.

Magnus Feldraug was no business of mine.

Yet, for better or for worse, in a mere week I had become immersed in the inner workings and mysteries of four different men at Vikingrune Academy.

Grim Kollbjorn, who had become my silent protector without my asking. The giant bear shifter was content with walking me through the woods. He had a tragic past, by all accounts a horrible temper, and knew I would have to fight him to rise from an initiate into a cadet. He’d also once been friends with my brother.

Arne Gornhodr, whose sarcasm and witty words had proven to be a mask over something much more tender and real: protecting his sister, and the secret society she was part of, from harm.

Sven Torfen, who seemingly had an alliance with my brother Eirik, which in itself was a huge mystery and felt like a betrayal. I didn’t even like the fucking bully, yet I kept finding myself drawn to him and his ridiculing sneers, like a punishing drug I kept wanting to inhale.

And now, Magnus Feldraug. A man between living and dead, whose special blood could apparently do amazing, terrifying things. A man whose very body was a testament to his pain, power, and everything in between, and who had a past more checkered and vague than even my own.

I had no business being wrapped up in these four men. I shouldn’t have been enamored with them. I couldn’t afford to get sidetracked.

But I couldn’t help it. They intrigued me. I felt different things for all of them, though I could explain none of it. Things were not as cut and dry at Vikingrune Academy as I’d hoped they’d be before coming here.

I had dreamt of glory, honor, finding my way in life, and assassinating my sworn foes. Now I was having trouble discerning what made a person a friend, and what made them an enemy.

The Old Way said very little about matters of the heart. I was confused by the feelings, like something inside me had awakened, where before it had been a black void.

I was old when it came to being a first-year initiate, yet young when it came to . . . whatever this feeling was.

“Silvermoon.”

Magnus’ words snapped me back to reality. I spun away from the bookshelves to face him, not realizing until now that sweat had started to bead on my upper lip. “Y-Yes?” I eked out.

“You look lost.”

I blinked. Why were there tears in my eyes, close to falling?

Magnus meandered toward me. He put an arm over my shoulder, and I felt safe and comforted. Even though his bare skin was warm across the nape of my neck, it somehow chilled me to the bone.

With his free arm, he pointed to a corner of the room. “Modern records.” His arm moved to the opposite corner. “Ancient records. And the huge space between is filled with lost lineages, fragments of histories, and all sorts of interesting shit.”

I frowned at him, without asking him to take his arm off me, because it grounded me to reality and made me feel less burdened by my task and my tumultuous feelings. “I haven’t even told you what I’m looking for.”

He grunted, pulling his arm away. “We all come here for the same reason, more or less.”

I gulped, nodding to his back.

Magnus shrugged his chin over his shoulder. “I would start with modern records. Find the family you do know, and then work your way back. Otherwise you’ll be lost forever, trying to find connections that don’t exist.”

Clamping my jaw, I dug deep to find the resolve I so desperately needed. “Thank you, Magnus.”

With his few words, Magnus helped me shrug aside the doubts and worries. At least for the time being.

I cracked my knuckles, squared my shoulders, and got to work.

Hours passed in companionable silence. Only the shifting of pages and fluttering of parchment filled the space between me and Magnus.

He said, “It’s time,” and looked over at me from across the table.

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