Page 57 of Into the Isle

“Yes.” Another series of vigorous nods.

Gods above, the story just gets worse and worse.

“You’re telling me Grim Kollbjorn is a berserker and a cannibal?” I put my hands on my head, stressed as hell. “How the fuck is he still at the academy and not locked away in some cage?!”

Dagny laughed. “You kidding me? A soldier of that magnitude? He’s like the perfect soldier, Rav. And what is Vikingrune training if not super soldiers?”

This was all too much. I didn’t know what to believe. The man I’d met was nothing like the barbarian Dagny was describing.

“I mean, shit, I’m surprised he wasn’t given an award for it,” Dagny muttered, mostly to herself. She raised her hands and splayed air-words across the sky. “MVP. Most valuable people-eater.”

She beamed at me.

I grimaced. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Her smile vanished. “Sorry. My humor can be a bit twisted. I’m sure he’s not so bad.”

I shook my head, leaning back in the couch. I wanted to melt into it and disappear. Maybe Eirik was right, and I should just forgo making friends with anyone until I know more about them, this place, and what I’m doing here.

I couldn’t lose sight of my true purpose for attending Vikingrune Academy, after all. Training and growing into my powers was high on the list, but I’d promised my mother I would discover who had ruined our family name generations ago, and I’d make it right.

My plan is revenge and assassination, I thought morosely. So can I even call myself nobler or better than someone like Grim Kollbjorn?

The answer came to me before I’d even thought up the question. Well, if he’s a fucking cannibal, then yes. A resounding yes—I could call myself a better person than that.

I didn’t know enough. I couldn’t even think straight after everything that had happened today. What was supposed to be a boring, lazy orientation had turned out to upend my entire worldview.

Wobbling a bit, I stood from the couch with a groan.

Dagny bowed her head. “Sorry,” she said, hands in her lap. “Did I ruin the mood?”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not you, Dag. This place is . . . a lot to take in.”

She smiled sadly up at me. “Believe me, you’re taking it better than most. I was a completely innocent kitten when I showed up last year, all starry-eyed and dumb. You aren’t that, at least. I’m glad I met you.”

I squeezed her shoulder lightly, trying to offer up my best version of a smile. I felt sick even attempting it. “Same here, Dagny. Thank you for helping me”—I gestured at the rag wrapped around my calf, which was starting to stain through with a dark brown splotch—“and for telling me those things. I needed to hear it.”

With that, I took off for the stairs, tossing a wave over my shoulder. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go wail into my pillow while I try to dissect all this. I’m beat.”

I reached the stairs to the sound of her chuckling. “Dissect? Sounds like something a people-eater would say.”

My stomach lurched. Gods, this woman. Wouldn’t know an appropriate joke if it smacked her in the face.

She kept snickering. “Don’t be late for classes tomorrow, friend.”

At the top of the landing, I said, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Dag.”

Stalkers in the woods? Bullies in the boats? Cannibals offering to escort me across campus? Magical men who speak of inflicting pain like they’re discussing the weather?

This place is not what it seems.

I wouldn’t get caught slipping again.

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