Page 21 of Into the Isle

I nodded decisively, firmly. “I’m sure, Eirik. More sure than I’ve ever been about anything. This is what I was born to do, brother.”

He stared at my face, eyes scrutinizing every line and wrinkle and blemish. His lips thinned into a line beneath his short-cropped beard. Whatever he saw there, he appreciated, or at least respected.

With a curt nod, Eirik said, “Very well.” Then he turned to his crew and spun his hand over his head in a circle. “Round up, everyone. It’s time to set off. We have our initiate.”

The crew grunted and took to their rowing seats. Oars came out of their holds in a flurry. Eirik spun on me, pointed to my spot on the bench, and gestured to an oar. “You’ll be expected to help. Take an hour to rest, then row.”

My heart shimmied in my chest, lodging in my throat. By the gods . . . it’s actually happening! I nodded profusely. “Of course, brother. I take your lead.”

He grunted and bent lower to me, winking. “Then let’s set off before Damon wakes up and raises hell.”

“Our village wanted an enemy, brother,” I said. “So I gave them one.”

He smirked at me. My smile was wicked as he walked off . . . but the smile faltered once he was gone toward the prow of the ship.

How in Odin’s name does he know Damon passed out? I never told him that part.

Chapter 7

Arne

I LOUNGED IN MY ROWING seat, reclined with my head propped up against the hull, one knee bent, my other foot crossed over it. As I lazily kicked my foot in the air, and my man Rolf did the rowing for both of us, I kept my eyes on the new girl.

Eirik had been quick to disembark the shores of Selby Village once she flopped onto the boat like a beached seal. Seeing her sweaty and half-drenched in ocean water with her graceless entrance had made me chuckle to myself.

This one was intriguing, to say the least. Beautiful in an unbreakable way. She looked strong for a lass—stronger than me, perhaps. Then again, I’d never been known for my brute strength.

There was a roguish glint in her eyes while she spoke with her brother, Drengr Eirik Halldan. The broad-shouldered son of Hallan had been made “warrior,” or Drengr, in his second year at Vikingrune. It was impressive.

Still, I was more drawn to the new girl. The sparkle in her eyes told me she had done something wrong to get here, which I respected. In my opinion, people needed to do whatever they could to get ahead. I had always been opportunistic in my own way, and Ravinica Linmyrr seemed a kindred spirit.

Besides the prettiness of her face, it was also the hue of her hair that gave her away as a half-blood, bog-bred outsider. Streaked silver, like a blacksmith’s sword that’s been hammered and beaten, leaving a perfect sheen of impurities behind. I smiled at the verbose thought, thinking her hair alone would be worthy of a song. Maybe I’d write it once we returned to the academy.

Her hair color showed her to be elven in blood. At least partly. Ljosalfar, or light elves, typically had shining platinum or silver hair. Dark Dokkalfar elves had a more brackish hue, sometimes verging on green.

Interestingly, Ravinica had a bit of both. Silver, yet when she turned a certain way and the moon hit her right, I saw that glint of darkness streaking through it.

She’ll have a tough time ahead of her for that reason alone, being so obviously of elven descent—whether it’s her name or her hair that gets her in trouble. Add to that her defiant posture and attitude, and I already liked her.

Eirik had spoken about her on the way over here. He had read the initiate letter given to him by academy superiors before we arrived in Selby. He’d been dismayed to learn his resilient half-sister would not be joining the Gray Wraith instead of his lackluster, sniveling younger brother.

I had never liked Eirik much. He was too goodly and altruistic for me. That being said, if getting closer to Eirik would bring me closer to this beautiful creature . . . I may have to bite the bullet.

Ravinica kept to herself as our longship sliced through the sea away from Selby. Unlike other boats that weren’t magical, this one guided itself. The oarsmen made it go faster, I supposed, but I didn’t feel like busying and tiring myself to shed a few extra minutes from our travel. I’d rather sit, ponder, and watch.

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