Page 76 of Into the Isle

It was Rolf, Arne’s charge. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, and respected Randi with a quick bow of his head.

“All right, big guy. Go easy on me, eh?” Randi’s eyes flashed with mischief.

I had a feeling she didn’t need Rolf going easy on her, and would use that to her advantage.

As they went to the table and chose weapons, I stayed alongside Magnus. We stared out, away from each other.

“Can I ask you how you got that last name?” I asked, finding a well of confidence somewhere inside me.

When he paused a beat, I worried I’d offended him. Then he said, “I was born with it.”

I wasn’t sure if he was being purposefully obtuse. “I don’t mean the ‘son of Fell’ part.”

“I know what you meant.”

“The undead part. You were . . . born dead?”

“It’s a long story.”

I glanced over at him. “I’d love to hear it.”

“Not now, silvermoon.”

His words settled over me like a soft cloud. Despite his paleness, his otherworldly appearance that set him apart from the others here, I felt like I knew him. There was a sense of familiarity around him, and it confused the hell out of me.

Maybe it was because we spoke easily to one another, which I hadn’t thought would be the case after his mute tendencies in History & Tomes, and casual indifference to everything going on around him.

His eyes were hidden behind those round sunglasses, yet from a profile angle I could see a hint of gray or silver in his observant orbs. They looked stark and striking, similar to my golden-yellow eyes.

He showed no emotion and didn’t smile or frown, even when he was jesting—which was what made him so effective. When he defeated Ulf, he didn’t gloat. He just stood up and followed me to Hersir Axel, to reach Sven.

Randi and Rolf set up across from each other. They didn’t fight on the grass of the glade, opting for the hard dirt in front of Gharvold Hall. All around us, other initiates were finishing their bouts.

Apropos of nothing, Magnus said, “Interesting that Astrid Dahlmyrr is called ‘silvermoor’ when you’re the bastard with silver hair.”

I glanced over at him again. “Ain’t that a bitch? I’m not in charge of the nicknaming committee.”

Arne stepped up alongside me and Magnus, seemingly out of nowhere. He crossed his arms over his narrow chest and hummed. “I have five bucks on Randi.”

I raised a brow. “Isn’t Rolf your charge? From your same village?”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m betting on Randi.”

I snorted. “Well, I don’t have any money. Getting on the Gray Wraith was a bit of a sudden thing for me. Didn’t have time to pack my piggy bank.”

“So I’ve heard. It was supposed to be your brother here, wasn’t it, little fox?”

I nodded.

Randi and Rolf charged at each other. Their wooden weapons clacked and rang out with dull thuds. They moved fast, yet I noticed the hesitance in Rolf to lean into his strikes against the smaller girl.

That will be your downfall, big man.

As I watched the fight, discerning and picking apart Rolf and Randi’s fighting tactics, Magnus looked across my body to Arne on my other side.

“Tonight, iceshaper?” he asked.

“This weekend.” Arne flared his nostrils. “We’re in mixed company, Magnus.”

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