Page 58 of The Last Valkyrie

I swallowed hard, feeling a slight tremble in my hands. “I promise to come back to you, Ravinica. Our love will not be stopped by the gods themselves.”

She smiled, sadness sinking her eyes. “This is the most gallant I’ve ever seen you look. It suits you, love.”

I kissed her lightly on the lips, knowing that if I sank further into her heat, swallowing her warmth, I would lose myself and never leave this damn place.

“I know what failure means for us,” I said, gently thumbing her chin as I pulled back from the kiss. “I won’t let Ragnarok begin on account of my wayward, lost family of old. I’ll make them see sense, Ravinica. That is my oath.”

I only wished I believed in myself as much as the serene smile on her face told me she did.

I had a good inkling of where the Lepers were holed up these days. Even though I wasn’t close with them, I’d never lost my connections in Isleton, to the information-gatherers and scouts of the area.

My time outside these walls had been well-spent.

I began my journey heading through the underground tunnels I knew so well. Once at the southern end of Academy Hill, near sea level, I staked off toward a region not far from where I’d last seen the Lepers’ camp, when I had gone looking for Corym E’tar.

The situation was markedly different this time around, because I was not planning on rescuing anyone or bringing them back with me. If anything, I was ready to kill if need-be, since I expected many Lepers would try to do the same to me if it came down to it.

“What poison did you spit in the ears of our people before getting yourself killed, sister?” I wondered aloud, murmuring to myself as I crept through the Helgas Woods and the thicker forest beyond.

The day was chilly, the sky gray with angry clouds. Rain would come soon. I thanked the gods I’d brought a sturdy coat, throwing aside my flashy garb for something utilitarian. I had nothing to prove to these people or anyone else.

“Gods,” I asked myself with a weary chuckle. “When did I get so serious?”

Hints of the camp started to sprout up near sunfall, about six hours out from the academy. I was reaching the southern edge of the Isle, the craggy sands, before cutting east toward the oft-forgotten Koldna Hills and the valley between them. The waterfalls of the Three Norns were not far from here, up north in the wide jungle lands.

It was wild territory here. The academy never saw fit to inspect the place often, which made it ripe breeding grounds for rebels and Vikingrune tourists who wanted to get away from academy life for a bit.

The grooves in the hard-packed earth showed signs of an encampment recently moved. My connections had told me as much, yet I stayed for an hour to survey the scene anyway and try to pick up on anything off about the place.

Finding nothing untoward, I moved north, over the Urd and Verdandi Fjords—two rivers that were fed from the high waterfalls ahead. I moved slowly, methodically, knowing I was getting closer to my destination.

Night was upon me when I heard and saw the first hints of human life. It was a group of cloaked Lepers out on patrol, foraging and picking up fungi and berries for the larger group.

I hid in the hollowed trunk of a tree, waiting for them to pass, and then pulled my forest-green cloak tighter around me. The moon had trouble piercing through the cloudy veil, which gave me room to move, but I’d need to be careful regardless. I couldn’t count on any Lepers Who Leapt treating me right if they found me.

The main camp was nestled in the foothills of a cliff, under an arched ridge. Countless hammocks, tents, and makeshift cabins lay about the camp in a haphazard way, ready to be picked up at the snap of a finger if word came down the pipeline of an incoming enemy.

I recognized many of the people among the site, from their gait and statures rather than their faces, which were hidden by the night. Campfires dotted three sections of the glade, with a thick ring of foliage covering their flanks. It was an easily defensible position.

Seeing no sign of Dieter, and with the night still young and knowing he would not be sleeping, I stayed among the thick foliage to hide myself. Hunkering down, I waited.

And waited.

Three hours passed, with still no sign of Dieter. More promising, there were no signs of dark elves, either.

Maybe my people are not lost after all, and what I saw during the battle was a fluke—a play of the mists, even. Or perhaps it is only a sect of the Lepers who have joined the Dokkalfar invaders.

I was standing from my hidey-hole when I finally saw Dieter, my old salt-and-pepper-bearded friend, emerge from one of the camps with a man and a woman. They headed for the eastern fringe of the camp, away from me, moving slowly, deep in conversation.

Noticing my time to act, I snaked around the camp, going from west to south, making sure to move deliberately so I wasn’t seen. I had my blond hair tied back, my face hooded with my green cloak.

Dieter and his two comrades went into the jungle, evidently going on a foraging mission. I stayed far from them, keeping the trio in sight, using my natural litheness and stealth.

At one point, with my heart pounding, I let out a near-perfect imitation of a nightbird’s trill. It was the same code I’d used with Dieter and Frida in the past to get their attention when I didn’t want the rest of the Lepers to know I was there.

Dieter stiffened. He was bent low, picking through some roughage, when he raised his head. He looked left and right, then returned to his foraging.

A few minutes later, Dieter said something to his two comrades. As I crept closer, less than twenty feet out and stalking ever closer through the dewy trees, I heard the tail-end of his words.

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