Page 97 of Into the Isle

“To that end,” Dieter added, putting his hand out, “do you have what you came here for?”

Arne clicked his tongue, reached into his tunic, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He set it on the table and when Dieter reached for it, Arne kept his fist on the paper so it wouldn’t budge.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Arne ignored me, staring down Dieter. He tapped the paper. “Help my friend here, yes?”

It was a trade. “Currying favors, and handing them out,” as Arne had said. It’s a deal . . . for my benefit? Why does Arne want to help me? He doesn’t even know what I want—I’ve told him nothing! A warm pulse spread through my limbs, landing in my belly. It was something like appreciation I felt, and contentment. He wants to help me because he believes in me. Or at least respects me. It can be the only explanation.

I said nothing, dumbfounded, watching these two men converse. They’d clearly known each other for a while.

Dieter looked down at the paper hungrily, then over to me, and back to Arne. “What does she want?”

“She can tell you,” Arne answered.

Dieter blinked at me. “Well?”

My lips felt chapped, my throat dry. I sat up straighter, trying to gain some resolve. The question had come abruptly, and I hadn’t prepared.

I stammered at first—“I, erm . . .” Then I paused and took a deep breath. Under my brow, my eyes shot right to Arne, then across to Dieter. I lowered my chin. “I want to get into the records room of Mimir Tomes.”

To my surprise, neither man was shocked at my request.

“Fine,” Dieter said. He wagged his fingers at Arne, who lifted his fist and passed the folded paper across the table. “That can be arranged,” Dieter added, tucking the paper into his shirt.

I raised a brow. “You’re not going to ask what I want in there? Why I—”

“None of my business. You’re not the first one to want records. Remember, lass, every Leper Who Leapt has had their magic stifled, if it ever existed at all. We all have questions about our heritage, lineage, things of that nature. We want answers to the burning question: Why did my magic never reveal itself? What makes me inadequate?”

My heart sank for this man. I could see the pain in his eyes, the sadness on the edges crinkling his brow. I related so much to that question—something I’d been asking myself for four solid years.

Heavy emotions swallowed me whole, all at once. I looked over to Arne, and he seemed to notice the expression on my face. With a tender smile, he reached over and put his palm on the top of my knuckles resting on the table.

I looked down, enjoying the way he seemed to silently console me. Like Magnus had done. Like Grim, he had a soft touch, and it was unexpected.

These didn’t sound like radical revolutionaries to me, or terrorists who hated anyone who could runeshape. No, these sounded like rejects who just wanted to survive in a world that didn’t want them and didn’t think they were worthy.

Have I finally met my people?

I asked Dieter, “How do you survive out here? I’m assuming not near the academy.”

He snorted with a short laugh. “No, of course not. We have our hideaways elsewhere on the Isle, frequently slipping to new spots. We make do.”

“The powers that be at Vikingrune don’t pursue you? Do they know you exist?”

“Aye, they do.” Dieter patted his heart, where the paper Arne had given him was tucked away. “This will help.”

I didn’t know what he meant. It didn’t really matter, because I saw the hopefulness on his face. That was enough for me.

Arne said, “The leaders at Vikingrune don’t pursue the Lepers because they see them as a mild distraction at best. Not worth the effort to snuff out, or the resources to locate.”

Dieter nodded along. “As long as we stay out of trouble, that is, and don’t disrupt the academy.”

“Yes,” Arne continued, “the minute Vikingrune feels threatened by the Lepers, things will change.” He gave Dieter a stern glare. “Which I’ve been trying to tell my comrade here for months.”

A thought came to me: Magnus. Wasn’t he supposed to meet these people also? Does that mean his inherent magic hasn’t shown itself either? I stuffed the question away for the time being.

With the introduction out of the way, Dieter threaded his fingers together on the table. He stared at me. “Down to brass tacks. There is an entrance into Mimir Tomes few know about. My people can lead you there. We can’t guarantee your success. We won’t follow you inside. Once in the library, you’ll be on your own.”

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