Page 73 of The Serpent’s Shadow

The Hersir pointed a slender finger at me. “Ravinica, speak with me after class.”

I saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sitting, I waited for Astrid Dahlmyrr to cry out from somewhere in class—to shame me, chastise me for something, say I didn’t deserve to be here.

Conspicuously, I glanced over both shoulders to try and locate the bully. I had done so much prepping during the long trek back to the academy, game-planning how I was going to react, respond, and retaliate against the Tomekeeper’s bastard daughter.

But no outcry ever came. All I saw when I looked over my shoulders were a few students staring at me. Astrid’s few bitchy minions were in the class, glaring daggers at me.

I winced and turned around. “Seems my welcome-home party is not going so well,” I muttered to myself.

Next to me, Randi’s brows were arched helplessly. She was looking into my face, as if trying to find something there, and it annoyed me. I didn’t like being the center of attention like this, and I hoped within the next few days it would go away as my existence here became normal again.

“Question,” I said out the corner of my mouth. “Where in Hel is Astrid? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hoped to see her. I have a knuckle sandwich with her name—”

“In Hel. Like you said.” Randi’s low, serious voice cut me off.

The tone was so unlike her, and the expression on her face so foreign, it made my head reel. “What?”

She searched my eyes for a moment longer, and evidently found what she was looking for. “Shit. Gudleif is right. No one’s told you.”

“Told mewhatRandi?”

“Um, well . . .” She bit her lip. “Astrid’s dead, babe.”

I stormed into Nottdeen after a quiet, somber Runeshaping Basics class where I’d felt unbelievably uncomfortable and strangely sad.

After letting us out, Hersir Selken told me it was probably best I kept my head down and didn’t try to draw attention to myself while the “investigation” was still ongoing.

I told her, first, when did I ever try to draw attention to myself? And second, when did this happen?

Turned out Astrid was murdered the night before I sneakily left the academy with Arne Gornhodr.

Not a great look for me, admittedly.

Beyond that, Selken couldn’t tell me anything. She didn’t know Astrid or her friend Corta’s causes of death. Or at least she claimed not to, which I thought was complete bullshit.

The Hersirs knew everything in this place.

I barged into Nottdeen, yelling, “Dagny!”

The shifters head bounced up from her napping post, drool slurped up from the side of her mouth. Blinking bleary eyes at me, her mouth fell open.

“Rav, what’s g-going on?” she asked as she threw her glasses on.

I stormed over and jabbed a finger down on the counter. “Astrid Dahlmyrr, bestie. What the hell happened?”

Dagny paled like I’d just thrown a bucket of ice over her head. “Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I thought . . . you knew.”

“Knew she wasmurderedthe day before I left?! No, I didn’t. Seemed everyone conveniently left that part out.”

I could hardly contain my rage, which was only held back by the confusion and roaring questions in my mind.

Astrid’s death meant so much, and changed so much. Tomekeeper Dahlia’s sickly-sweet smile? It had a whole new, ominous meaning now. How was the librarian keeping it together knowing her daughter was dead, and the likely suspects of her death were waltzing out of her building together?

“Maybe they just didn’t know how to tell you,” Dagny said, scrambling for something to hold onto while I ranted. She found a pen and nervously spun it in her fingers. “Wait. Who isthey, anyway? Who did you come back with?”

I sighed, frustrated I was being diverted from the subject at hand. “Grim, Sven, Magnus, and Arne.” I left Corym E’tar out of the equation, for good reason. I trusted Dagny as much as I trusted Grim Kollbjorn, and yet, I didn’t want to burden her with information that I’d maybe, possibly, probably fallen for a Ljosalfar elf while I was away.

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