Page 30 of Into the Isle

“Yes. Of someone who needs help from others. Someone weak. You need to be stronger than that.”

Frustration boiled inside me. I didn’t like Eirik talking to me this way, because I was so unaccustomed to it. He seemed like a different person ever since Ulf had nearly attacked me.

I stuffed down the pang of resentment. “Fine. I’ll be strong.” I couldn’t fight back the next part. “Did I do something to offend you, brother?”

“Other than draw a spotlight to yourself back there? No.”

I snorted and threw my arms up in frustration. “As if I had anything to do with that! I can’t help it if I draw assholes to me like flies to shit. Newsflash, E, but it’s been that way my whole life.” I swept a bit of silver hair off my shoulder, holding it up. “In case you’ve forgotten what I am.”

His upper lip twitched. He glanced over, grunted, and didn’t apologize. “I have a reputation at the academy, Vini.” His tone was softer this time, though it did nothing to ease my frustrations and anxiety.

“Arne told me. A Drengr, he said? I understand. I won’t bother you and your friends.” My words came out spiteful and whiny, which I hated.

I didn’t want my brother to think I was weak. I wanted him to be proud of me—to believe he made the right decision in bringing me here rather than Damon. Not the right decision because I was his sister, but because of my merits.

I’ll just have to prove to him that I belong. To all of them.

“Is that all?” I asked.

I didn’t want his aura of negativity to feed into me. I wanted to be walking alongside that snarky, sarcastic man who called me his little fox. Arne was much more fun than my brother.

“No,” he said. “When we arrive at the academy, I have to take you to see Hersir Ingvus. He is the steward of the academy. Tomorrow will be orientation, so you won’t get long to rest before getting tossed into the fire.”

I blinked rapidly, panicked. “I won’t get a chance to familiarize myself with the academy before classes start?”

A quick headshake. “Believe me, Vini, you’ll familiarize yourself with Vikingrune soon enough, whether you like it or not.”

His words sounded ominous. I wondered if he was just trying to scare me to keep me in line; to make sure I didn’t act up or something.

He should’ve known who he was talking to. I was not Damon. I had discipline and I’d been training for years for this moment. I wouldn’t squander it.

The first part of his words flooded back to me. “Who is Hersir Ingvus? What does the steward do? Why must I see him before doing anything else?”

“Because, sister, you aren’t supposed to be here. Damon is. Which means we have to answer to the steward, who is also the warden.”

“W-Warden?” I stammered. I knew that word, and it meant more than “steward” to me. “You mean . . . a jailer?”

Eirik gave me a quick nod. “We can’t avoid him. Might as well get ahead of it. His runes control the Wraiths. He knows what happens on those decks, and who sits on those rowing benches. He will already be aware Damon Halldan did not arrive with the Gray Wraith.”

The panic inside me bloomed. I chewed my lip nervously. “What, um, what do you think he wants with me? Will I get kicked out before I’ve even been accepted?”

Eirik sighed. He looked over at me, the scar on his brow pinching pityingly. “That, I don’t know, Vini.”

Leave it to my older brother to be a bootlicker. His sense of justice was too great.

The idea that Hersir Ingvus knew what happened on ships thousands of miles away seemed ridiculous to me. Unless Eirik sent a messenger raven to the academy before we showed up—which seemed impossible since we had gotten here so fast—then how could this Ingvus person know anything about me?

And if Eirik did send a raven, that’s a massive betrayal. No, he wouldn’t do that.

Part of me thought Eirik wanted to get ahead of this because it put his reputation at risk. That, if it was found out he was smuggling initiates into the academy, essentially, he would be ruined.

It was a fair point. I still hated it. I wished he could just be honest with me, if that was the case, rather than being cryptic and unhelpful.

Eirik’s words only worked to make me more nervous as we marched through Delaveer Forest. It dragged on for what seemed like hours, or maybe it only felt that long because I was stuck in my own head. Arne had stopped talking to me, preferring Rolf’s company, and Eirik walked ahead like a stone statue.

I had no one again. I’m used to it, I told myself. I’d better stay used to it, if Eirik’s warning is anything to go by.

I was confused about why he thought I shouldn’t befriend Arne. To me, the bright-haired man seemed fine. Helpful, handsome, smart. Sure, he might have been a bit cunning, but what did that matter?

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