Page 23 of Into the Isle

I would be too, if I took to the ocean to escape my name, only for some bottom-feeder from a shithole village to follow me across the waves. Give the lass a fucking break. I knew none was coming.

“I belong here as much as any other man or woman, Ulf,” Ravinica said, pursing her lips. To her side and slightly behind her was her spear, leaned against the rail. Her fingers twitched in that direction.

I had no doubt she was fast, but fast enough to grab the spear before Ulf—only five feet from her—lunged?

I tapped my chin, curious.

“I was victorious in my village’s trials and tribulations,” she said. “I scored highest on all marks.”

“So did I,” Ulf answered. “My family’s name from Skarth Village is known throughout—”

“Bullshit,” I called out, standing from my bench.

Their heads whipped over. More rowers looked too, hearing a new voice join the fray. From the front of the ship, Eirik turned. He was still too far to do anything immediately, and he probably wouldn’t even if he could.

I sauntered toward them from my bench, moving lithely like a leopard in the trees.

“What did you say to me?” Ulf growled.

“You heard me, nepo-baby. You aren’t here because of merit. You’re here because of your name. The lass is here despite her name. You are not the same.”

“Why you little fucking—” Ulf cut himself off and advanced toward me.

Two long strides, then four, and he was close.

Swiftly, I raised a hand and Shaped the air around me with a few quick gestures of my fingers. With my free hand, imperceptibly fast, I drew power from the portal drawn by my rune—from the primordial realm of Niflheim itself, the land of ice and snow—and motioned toward Ulf Torfen.

Ice crackled along the floorboards like a spider’s web and curled around his boots, rising up to his shins and knees before stopping and solidifying. Only stopping because I told it to, hardened into immovable glaciers.

The ice blockade stilled Ulf’s advance immediately. His momentum pitched the upper half of his body forward, and his arms pinwheeled to keep him upright. He growled at me with dripping teeth, ready to shift.

I glanced up at the moon to see how strong he’d be if he shifted. The mist surrounding the Gray Wraith was blocking anything but a murky glow from up high.

“Fucking runeshaper,” Ulf growled, writhing comically but going nowhere. He bunched his hands into fists. “Coward. Unblock me and fight me like a man.”

I put my hands on my narrow hips. “The way I see it, you have three choices here, Ulf. I could push you backward and snap your legs in half, since that ice isn’t going anywhere until I tell it to. Would you like your shin bones to be jutting out of your kneecaps?”

Ulf’s eyes bulged, face paling. “W-What—”

His tune had changed quite fast.

“Or I let the girl push you forward, and you’ll get the same thing but the bones bursting out the backs of your knees.”

“No bones!” he wailed, hands flailing.

“No bones about it, indeed,” I said with a small nod, circling the younger man. “Third choice, I let the lass shank you with her spear. End it all real fast.”

Over Ulf’s shoulders, Ravinica looked stunned. She was nearly as pale as the scared wolf shifter.

I counted on my fingers, frowning. “Shit. Looks like that’s all three options.”

When I smiled devilishly at Ulf, he frantically tried to squirm his way out of the ice boots rooting him to the ground.

“What in all hells is going on over here?” Eirik roared from behind Ravinica. “Arne, release him. The whelp’s a fucking initiate, for Odin’s sake.”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “A bully, too. Like the rest of these Torfen scum—”

“There will be no blood spilled on the Gray Wraith, iceshaper.”

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