Page 135 of The Last Valkyrie

Chapter 43

Corym

I CRASHED THROUGH THEwall of draug with my blades singing, silver longsword decapitating a slow-moving creature while my sunstone dagger shone brilliantly and cauterized the wound closed.

The elven camp was in disarray, hundreds of my kinfolk in battle with an army of undead.

My eyes scanned the bloody sight, watching as my brethren cut down the draug, soon becoming overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies. It seemed this pack of undead had come from the western gate, rather than being raised from the tombs of Vikingrune Academy itself.

A woman shouted inside a tent, and I recognized the voice. I charged in with my swords drawn, yelling, “Deitryce!”

My sister was flanked by draug—these ones had popped up from the ground within the confines of the tent itself, outside the view of other elves outside.

Deitryce was unarmed, bloodied across her forehead and cheek. She had pushed herself up against the edge of her cot, circling her wrists as she tried to cast spells at the enemy.

“Brother!” she yelled when she saw me standing flabbergasted in the opening of her tent.

While the battle scorched the ground with magic and screams of fighting elves outside the tarp of the tent, I lunged at the nearest draug, my instincts taking over.

A draug launched at her and I shouldered it hard in the back, sending it sprawling forward. The second draug came at Deitryce from the right—

She was forced to cut off her spell casting to duck under its swinging claw.

My eyes trailed across the ground, following her eyes, where I spotted her sword on the ground.

With a quick flip and kick of my leg, I sent it skittering between the legs of the draug.

Deitryce swooped it up from the ground and spun in one fluid motion, lodging the blade into the spine of the creature.

It toppled, seizing on her bed.

The second one was on its feet again, and we worked to quickly dispatch it with blurring blades cutting into its ragged, toughened flesh, past its peeling armor.

Once we severed the connection of its lower spine, I stared hard into my sister’s golden eyes, noticing the heave of her chest as she breathed shallowly. “You’re hurt,” I said, reaching out to run a hand across the nasty gash in her forehead.

She shoved my hand aside, angrily flaring her nostrils.

Apparently I’d be getting no thanks for aiding her.

Then I noticed something else in her eyes, getting lost in the golden plains—fear. “What is it, Deitryce?”

“The Runesphere, Corym. It’s gone!”

My stomach plummeted. “No.”

She nodded profusely, waving her hand in the air as her hand tightened on the hilt of her sword. “I felt unusually exhausted after my mid-afternoon meal with my company. Promptly fell asleep once I got in here.” Her eyes flashed wider. “I think our food may have been poisoned.”

“Runeshapings can also cause such an affliction.”

She worked her mouth over, losing her mind. “Oh brother,” she sighed, finally coming to her senses. “I fear you may have been right.”

“For once,” I added with a wry smile, catching her off-guard. “Come, sister. We’ll find the Runesphere together.”

Choking back a sound, she nodded fiercely.

---