Page 87 of Blood of Ancients

My frantic nerves were fraying, worried somethingworsethan death had overcome him.

“It appears not,” Kelvar said coolly, blowing out a cloud. “We should take comfort in that.”

“I won’t feel comfort until we find out what the fuck happened to him.”

“Lunis’ai!”

I gasped, spinning around.

Corym had moved away from the group, staying quiet during our investigation. Now, he was kneeling in the snow, near the portal-cabin.

He lifted something dark from the ground, covered in white flakes.

I rushed over, wading through the ankle-high frost and cutting deep grooves in the snow. A sound of shock ripped past my lips when I got close enough to see what he was holding up, merefeetfrom the cabin.

“A trench coat,” I breathed.

The others arrived a moment later.

“Fucking Hel,” Grim growled, and started prowling around the cabin—keeping a safe distance from the edges of the portal’s invisible borders.

“N-No, this is a good thing!” I squealed, clasping my hands together. “Right?”

“No bodies found!” Grim announced from the other side of the lodge.

My eyes moved to Sven, then Arne, imploring both of them with a helpless bent to my brows.

Corym stood and dusted his hands off. “I believe it is.” With a grave nod, he looked down from the ragged black trench coat, up to the cabin. “Though if his coat is here, and Magnus is not . . .”

My lips parted, mouth falling open. Eyes landing on the closed door of the cabin.

Kelvar the Whisperer sidled up next to me, letting out a deep groan. “Fucking Hel, indeed,” he muttered.

“He must have gone into the portal to escape!” I yelled, stating the obvious while also trying to make myself believe my bloodrender mate was still alive.

“Gods-dammit, Feldraug, what have you gotten yourself into?” Kelvar whispered, more to himself than anyone. Only I was close enough to hear him.

“What has he gottenusinto, you mean,” I answered.

He lifted a single thin brow as my other mates closed in around us. “What do you mean, cadet?”

I pointed at the lodge. “If Magnus went in there, Hersir, then we’re going in there. That’s what I mean.”

Kelvar’s cheeks went concave, his eyes darkening with a threat. “Is that a fact?”

I defiantly nodded to him, answering his challenge with a gold-tinged glare of my own. “It is.” I could feel my four mates behind me, their varying heights and builds casting deep shadows over me and onto Kelvar’s face. “You can’t stop all of us, Whisperer.”

The air whistled around us in the gray, crisp morning, signaling another standoff—this one with the most feared, diabolical man at Vikingrune Academy.

To my side, Arne said, “I heard what Gothi Sigmund told you, Hersir.”

While the iceshaper tried to break the tension, Kelvar’s eyes stayed on me. “What did you hear, eavesdropper?”

“You aren’t allowed to step foot in the portal. No one is.”

Kelvar nodded. A small smirk dashed across his lips. “That is correct. And yet, yourowner, to use a title by Hersir Jorthyr, is demanding we do exactly that. What am I to do with this conundrum?”

His arms were at his sides, hidden beneath the interior of his cloak. I had no idea what he was planning under there, but I knew it would be bad—potentially deadly for us.

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