Page 31 of Blood of Ancients

In the morning, we went our separate ways, sadly. He had to report for his third-term field duty, to see where he would be placed. I had my first class at the ass-crack of dawn.

Living in the underground city beneath Vikingrune Academy had worn me down over the past three weeks. Getting zero sunlight was awful for you. The lack of fresh air seemed to be doing a number on my body. Despite being in great shape from all the physical exertion with my men, I found breathing harder than it should have been down here.

Stuffing my schedule in my pack, along with a textbook, I cleared my bleary eyes and staked off for my first class of the day: Shipbuilding with Hersir Ingvus Jorthyr.

I had a history with the tall, gray-blond Warden of Vikingrune. He had been the one to give me the ultimatum my first day here: If my powers didn’t show up, I’d be exiled, relegated to possibly joining the Lepers Who Leapt.

With the help of Corym E’tar and the elves, somehow, my magic had unveiled itself just in the nick of time.

Ingvus had also arrested both Grim and Magnus—at different times—for the deaths of Astrid Dahlmyrr and Corta Gamdeen. He negotiated with Magnus, the true killer, to leech his blood in exchange for leaving me alone once I returned from the elven encampment.

Magnus made this decision without my say-so, because I hadn’t been here. We were still dealing with the repercussions of it, months later.

All that being said, I wasn’t looking forward to my class with the newest Hersir on the docket. Before getting my schedule, I’d had no idea Ingvus Jorthyr eventaughtclasses, much less one having to do with building longships.

What’s the point of this class, anyway? Are we expected to become carpenters . . . underground, where there’s nowhere to raise a sail or put a boat?

Perhaps I was just grumpy because it was early. The class started before breakfast even sounded reasonable. If I could’ve sees the sky, darkness would still be greeting me.

When I made my way through the winding hallways and got to class, a bunch of other cadets were also red-eyed and surly. No one wanted to be here.

I took my seat, put my spear and backpack down beside my chair, and waited for everyone to take their chairs. On each desk was a small hammer, some nails, and a few pieces of wood.

Furrowing my brow as I stared down at the items, I wondered if we were going to be building a mini replica of a boat on our first day.Great. The arts and crafts portion of my training to defeat extraplanar monsters from other realms. How useful.

My sourness went away as a huge figure took up the open door. I smiled at Grim, who made his way into the wide cavern chamber and ducked to get under the archway.

Standing from my seat, he noticed me and returned my smile with a knowing nod, before lumbering over to give me a hug and take a seat beside me.

“Morning, love.” He kissed my forehead. “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I see.”

I snorted, taking his huge paw in my hand, rubbing over his knuckles. “This class seems ridiculous.”

Grim shrugged his bulky shoulders. “Same as any other, you ask me.”

He seemed the least sleep-deprived out of the two-dozen students. Probably because he had been responsible and gotten to sleep early, whereas I had fooled around with Arne while learning some interesting tidbits about him and his fam.

Andmyfam, truth be told.

Arne’s words ran through me. For the first fifteen minutes of class they were all I could think about.Gothi Sigmund has had it out for me since day one, without me even knowing. He’s always known who I am, because he has some kind of connection with my stepfather, Hallan.

It was worrying news, given the chieftain’s clout, power, and authority over Vikingrune Academy. Now he had the portal I’d opened at his disposal, guarded at all hours of the day, even during a stormy winter. Who knew what he was planning?

I’d also learned how and why Arne had spied on me when I first came here. I was surprised he and Frida had essentially grown up in the rebel gang of the Lepers, and he had been the “chosen one,” to help parlay their safety with the academy, since he could Shape runes.

Does Arne evenwantto be a Vikingrune soldier? If he came here out of necessity for his group—unlike the others who trained their whole lives to be here—what does that say about his impetus to remain here?

Learning new things about Arne only made him more fascinating to me. It certainly opened up more questions. Chief among them: What does my family have to do with Vikingrune in this age, decades after my mother attended?

Hallan had never attended the academy, so what was his connection with Gothi Sigmund? And why did it make me so fucking nervous?

“Are you with us, Cadet Linmyrr?”

I blinked, looking up from my desk, a blank expression on my face. A few students chuckled at my obvious discomfort.

At the front of the room, in front of a black chalkboard with illustrations on it, Hersir Ingvus Jorthyr crossed his arms. There was more gray in his yellow beard than there had been a month ago, plaited down to his chest.

He was a sullen bastard on the best of days.

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