Page 98 of The Serpent’s Shadow

I didn’t take that thought seriously. Firstly, my inherent magic was no longer dormant, which meant I didn’t really qualify to join the non-magic group. Secondly, I had my people here, at Vikingrune. Even if I wanted to bring down the system, which I surely did, I wanted my mates and friends close by when I attempted it.

I also had no fucking clue how I was going to bring down a monolithic academy that had been here for centuries, had trained thousands of runeshapers much stronger and knowledgeable than me.

During my studies, I was realizing that staging a revolution was more complex than I’d thought. Even if I convinced the students they were being lied to, what about their legacy parents? The ones who painstakingly raised their young to follow in their footsteps?

Most people wouldn’t cut familial ties that easily.

I wasn’t likely to turn those stalwart defenders of the Old Way, the Vikingrune alumni, to my cause. I was just a lass in her early twenties—I would be laughed out of the smoky rebel tavern by the elder statesmen who provided for this academy and helped fund it.

If anything, the older generation was more likely to shackle my ass to a wall and make sure the truth never got out if they found out I’d uncovered it. Vikingrune Academy was not just a place of learning, it was also a hub of influence and a launch pad for careers, nobles, bureaucrats, and runeshapers after they graduated.

Not only that . . . butso whatif I convinced my peers Vikingrune had lied to them about the premise of its purpose? Was that supposed to magically realign their entire lives to suit my wants and needs?

“Oh, the elves aren’t really as evil as Vikingrune is saying, and they don’t want to bring the destruction of Midgard? Cool. Have fun with your little rebellion.”

That was the response I expected from the student body. That, and being called a liar and a madwoman. Fact was, I didn’t haveproofof my claims, other than the visions Lady Elayina had shown me and the words of the Ljosalfar I’d lived with.

Conveniently—or inconveniently for me—I couldn’t produce Elayina, the texts stating the truth, or the elves to back me up.

I had already been persecuted and tormented my entire life for being a half-breed, a woman, and a magicless mage. Did I really want to torment myself further by bringing the conflictto me?

It was a damning, humbling notion, coming to these realizations. Bottom line, if I was going to do anything, I needed a plan. And a damned good one.

And to think, I originally came here to assassinate the people who damaged my family’s reputation . . . and now I’m thinking of bringing down the whole damn system.

I laughed at myself, shaking my head—noticing how foolish and silly it sounded.

Sitting in the lobby of Nottdeen Quarter on an Ottoman, with my feet propped up on a sofa cushion in front of me, I upturned a box of chocolate-covered peanuts over my face to down the rest of the tasty treats.

Only three peanuts came out. I frowned, staring up at the empty box held over my head.I polished off these bad boys quickly.

With a sigh, I tossed the box to the floor, rubbed my eyes, and returned to the textbook on Viking history in my lap.

This had been my perch, my base of operations, for days. Right here in the lobby, reading, eating, sleeping, showering upstairs, and not necessarily in that order.

I may have skipped a shower or three . . . and traded an actual meal for a sweet treat or two.

“Gods, woman, you already finished off that box?” Dagny asked, off to the side behind the front counter. “Have you ever heard of pacing yourself? That’s a one-way ticket to diabetes—”

“Who’s the one who got them for me from Isleton?” I chirped, throwing a glare over my shoulder. “I didn’t choose the sweet life, Dag. It chose me.”

“Yeah, well I didn’tchoosetwenty over one-hundred vision, either, but here we are.” She bobbed her bony shoulders. “We don’t make the rules. The Norns decide our fates.”

My frown turned into a pout. “. . . So that means you’renotgonna go back to Isleton for another tasty treat run? You don’t ever get the munchies, Dagny?”

She scoffed and buried her head in a book at her desk. “No, Rav, because I’m not a stoner.”

“For shame, bestie.” I turned the page of my book to keep reading.No rebellion was ever won on an empty stomach, Dagny.And I was much too lazy to go to the cafeteria every time I wanted a snack.

Lifting my head, I said, “Speaking of that. Does anyone smoke weed on campus? Everyone drinks, but . . . who’s the plug? I haven’t seen a red-eyed hippie my entire time here.”

This time she let out a snort. “Just wait for Friday. The central woods will bethickwith clouds of wacky smoke.”

I grinned. “Can’t wait.”

The door to the dormitory swung open, and my eyes swiveled across from Dagny’s counter, out from the little side alcove where I sat.

Sven Torfen marched in, a severe frown on his stupid handsome face.

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