Page 103 of Blood of Ancients

I wondered if time worked differently in Alfheim—if we were returning weeks or months later, even though we’d only been gone a single day in the Ljosalfar world. That was how it often worked with extraplanar travel in the movies, anyway.Suppose we’ll find out soon as we get back to Vikingrune.

A sense of dread filled me as I thought about the academy. It was an awful feeling, thinking that way about the school that had given me so much—my found family.

It couldn’t be helped. As long as the academy trained us to hate elves, trained us to hate the Lepers Who Leapt and other non-magical folk, and trained us to fight all of them and think of them as enemies, I wouldn’t feel secure there.

It was insane, but part of me trusted the Skogalfar—feral woodland elves who hadn’t been around civilized culture in ages—more than some of the Hersirs at Vikingrune Academy.

Gothi Sigmund Calladan, Tomekeeper Dahlia Anfinn, Warden Ingvus Jorthyr, even Kelvar the Whisperer at times. . .They all have untrustworthy, devious glints in their eyes. They know elves are not inherently our enemies, yet they espouse that slogan like it’s set in stone. Inviting initiates around the world, eager to attend the prestigious school, to indoctrinate them with that hate.

I had never expected Vikingrune Academy to make me more attuned and radicalized to the world going on around me. Joining the school had always seemed like the next logical step to my success—hone my fighting skills and make myself a weapon, so no one could ever hurt me again.

Still, I was grateful the classroomsoutsidethe classrooms had taught me so much. The mess halls and living quarters, the friends like Dagny and Randi, who I missed dearly.

And there were others I had hope for, such as the Hersirs Axel Osfen, Gudleif Selken, and Thorvi Kardeen. They were the ones actually teaching us skills we could use—battle strategy, runeshaping, history. The true professors who wanted nothing more than to show their crafts and leave academy politics at the door.

I admittedly didn’t know them very well, but that’s how I thought of those three.Maybe I can talk to them. Tutors I can contact about my harebrained idea to “unite” the elves and humans. No doubt they’ll try to dissuade me from my mission, my life goal, but if I can get through to evenoneof them . . . it will have been worth it.

Reaching the end of the snowbank at the edge of the camp, we made it to the trees of Delaveer Forest, pointed southeasttoward the academy. I took one step into the green, my boots crunching on melting snow—

And lurched forward.

An assault of my senses struck me with suddenness that had me staggering and gasping. Tightness formed in my chest, my belly going sour, and I let out a small sound as I clutched my breast and stumbled onto one knee.

Sweat immediately dappled my skin.

“Rav!” Grim growled, stopping our procession to run back to me once he noticed I’d faltered. “What’s wrong?” The bear went onto his knees in front of me, tipping my chin. The look on his face made me feel even worse.

It was like all the blood had been drained from my face and veins, and someone had gut-punched me out of nowhere. An invisible force that left me panting and shaking my head.

“I-I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.

“Elf?” Sven muttered from the front of the group.

Kelvar, Arne, and Magnus parted to let me see Corym at the front of the group. One second, he was frozen where he stood, and the next, he stumbled back toward me.

When he turned, he shared the same wild-eyed look in his golden eyes. Coughing, he pounded his chest with a fist, as if fighting off an infection.

Grim helped me to my feet. I made it three steps before another stab of pain hit my psyche, twisting my insides.

Corym dashed to me, his cold face glistening with sweat.

“What is this, Corym?” I asked. You feel it t-too?”

The two of us seemed to be the only ones affected by this psychic attack, whatever it was.

Corym chewed the inside of his cheek, gripping my arm tightly and nodding. He turned left and right, eyes darting around anxiously.

What could be in the air that’s only hurtingus? And why us?

I was flabbergasted and confused, trying to think.

Then I thought of Sven’s call-out.“Elf?”

Realization dawned in Corym’s eyes the same time as mine. “Something about our elven blood?”

Everyone except Kelvar looked concerned around us.

I felt an intense pull coming from the west. It wrenched my eyes that direction—like some power calling to me. I was sure Corym felt it too.What’s over there that’s important to us?

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