Page 49 of The Last Valkyrie

Chapter 17

Magnus

I WAS MOSTLY JOININGCorym in Alfheim for moral support. I also had a few tricks up my sleeve. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

We left Vikingrune Academy with the setting sun. Corym knew very few people at the academy, so he had no reason to attend the burial ceremony. I, well . . . didn’t feel a rush of emotion as most normal people did when people died.

Death was an unavoidable part of war, and we were in the thick of it. I knew there would be more to come before this all ended.

And wheredoesit end, I wonder?

The elf and I packed light. We had created a bond of our own, not only through the torrid situations with Ravinica filled with lust and vigor, but also with our own personalities. Like me, the elf was stoic. More proper, perhaps, because he was raised that way, yet we both shared a love for Ravinica that couldn’t be denied.

Our silvermoon andlunis’ai. Phrases that essentially meant the same thing, with his “silver-streaked love.”

As we traversed the mountainside to reach sea level of the Isle, we picked up a few supplies in Isleton before continuing on. This many miles out from the western side of the island where the battle had taken place, we didn’t fear for our safety.

The same couldn’t be said for the inhabitants of Isleton. News of the battle had reached the far corners of our island home, and the fear was palpable throughout the small town. The drinking hubs of Trond’s Pub and Liv’s Libations were packed full of patrons, who were treating this situation with an apocalyptic bent.

We stayed mostly to ourselves, trying to gather some knowledge about the whereabouts of our enemies. Isleton had always been a den for scouts and trackers who needed to make a living staying safe outside the walls of the academy.

The best places to find gossip were the taverns, after all, where lips were loose.

Unfortunately, we received contradictory information everywhere we turned, and eventually left Isleton with little gained knowledge.

Some of the men and women we spoke to said the draug had disappeared completely after reaching up through the ground to terrorize us. Others—including a particularly sloshed young man who said he had ridden out after the earthquakes began—told us the jotnar were cozying up at Telvos Mountains, holding camp there. That same man’s wife said they had traveled further east, into Delaveer Forest.

A farmer from the nearby fields told us they planned on relocating Isleton, picking up strakes to put down elsewhere, closer to the academy. His friends said that was bullshit—the town would defend their homes like the rest of us.

Finally, tales of dark shadows creeping through the woods ran rampant. Where they slunk was up for debate. In the Niflbog? According to one man. Further north, along the stretches of Selfsky Plains where no one went? Possibly.

Before we could get anymore confused, we exited Isleton and decided on our original trajectory: straight through the gut of Delaveer to the elf camp, where we’d dash into the portal.

Next morning, we were getting close. We hadn’t slept, hadn’t lit a fire during our short camp, and neither of us complained of the lack of sleep.

No sign of dark elves was a good sign, in Corym’s eyes.

As we drew close, I asked him the question that had been burdening me all night. “Where does this war end, Corym?”

The elf stared at me with his golden eyes before sipping from a waterskin. Stoppering it, he handed me the skin. “Who knows? PerhapsMaltorVaalnath can give us some insight into their plans.”

“If they decide to help, you mean.”

“We’ll convince them it’s in everyone’s best interest, Magnus.”

“Your elven liege doesn’t know me, elf. I’ll be of little help.”

He quirked a fine brow at me. “Then why have you joined me? Why were you so immediate in rising to the occasion?”

I glanced away, continuing to move through the forest. “I have my reasons. They’ll come to light soon enough.”

Corym let out a small sound. “Secrets should not be kept between brothers.”

Brothers.He was right. As I glanced through the gnarled trees and thick pines ahead, I said, “Even if the light elves decide to help, I predict we’ll need more than just them.”

Corym stared hard at me as I became silent, letting him think over my words. “The Skogalfar,” he said after a time. “You believe you have the pull to get the wood elves to help us?”

“We’ll see,” I said simply. It was true that I hardly knew them, but something they had said about me in the past intrigued me.

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