Page 48 of The Serpent’s Shadow

I had no idea what that was. If it was the same river that was fed from the Western Falls atop Academy Hill, then it would be leading us closer to the academy. My would-be prison.

What in Valhalla am I going to do if I return there? I can’t see a way for things to continue as normal. Not after everything I’ve learned, everything I’ve seen.

The Huscarls of Vikingrune Academy hadslaughteredpeople. Obviously, it must have been kept under wraps at the academy. No one could know what was happening out here beyond its walls, with the tyrannical way the academy was going about things.

Right? The students wouldn’t stand for it. Hel below, I like to think the Hersirs wouldn’t stand for it either!

How could I look at the professors the same way ever again? From what Elayina had shown me during our first meeting, with the lies of the legend about King Dannon and Lord Talasin. The King Who Saw and the Deceiver in Gold.

The roles were flipped. Dannon hadn’t seen shit.

And now, with this new information from Elayina I haven’t even had a chance to think about yet—prophecies and myths of old.

Wasthere a chance I could have somehow been related to such ancient stories?

It certainly gave the mind plenty to chew on.

My thoughts wandered as we ventured through the forest. I lost track of time, continuing to put one foot forward, over and over again.

Then I heard a voice, far off—“There! Bushes!”

“Martyrs and mavens,” Corym hissed.

My heart elevated, lodging in my throat.

They’d found us. We’d gotten careless with our movements, not acting as stealthy because we’d thought they wouldn’t follow us to the ends of the earth.

I could hear the heavy footfalls of our pursuers, hot on our trail again. Trees shivering in the night breeze. Birds cawing, scared from their nighttime nests from the invading Huscarls.

“What do we do?” I asked Corym.

It wasn’t often I asked for advice. I was at a loss—too tired to go on, too tired to give up.

“We fight,” he grunted.

“We’ll die,” I said hopelessly. “You saw how many there were at your camp, Corym. Easily two dozen.”

We came to a clearing, dashed through it, and kept going. Being caught in such a glade—giving the Huscarls the ability to fan out, surround us—was not a sound strategy.

Not only did they outman us, they outgunned us. I only had a small hatchet for a weapon, besides my magic. Problem was, the Huscarls had runeshaping too. Corym was unarmored. At least he carried his curved blade, but it wouldn’t be enough. We both knew it.

Stopping to fight was suicide.

He took one glance at me, jogging next to him, and I watched as the knot in his throat bobbed. “I will give myself up,” he announced, his chivalry coming into full display. “For your safety.”

I scoffed. Actually scoffed.I haven’t had a man sacrifice himself for me my entire life . . . and I’m not about to start today.

“Like Hel you will,” I growled back at him. My bullheaded aggravation came roaring through. Everything I had just thought about stopping—death, suicide—it all went by the wayside when I learned Corym’s fatalistic plan.

They would murder him . . . and then they’d just do whatever they were going to do to me anyway.

It was worse than stopping. Worse than fighting.

“I like your first plan better,” I said, then flashed him a wicked grin. “We use the trees to our advantage. Pick them off one by one. Keep it moving. You know this forest, Corym E’tar.”

“Not this part of it.”

His excuses wouldn’t work on me. I could see the pity in his eyes, knowing how doomed we were, even as he tried to hide it.

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