Page 75 of The Last Valkyrie

It dawned on me that I’d never known much about Korvan at all. He spoke only when needed, and never shared much about himself in my youth. I didn’t know if he had any spouse, kids of his own, or what he’d done before showing up in Selby Village.

I felt a bit ashamed about that.The man is a mystery.

“Ravi? Is that you, daughter?”

My mother’s voice behind Korvan was riddled with surprise and relief.

I gave her a crooked smile as she stepped up beside Korvan. “Hello, Ma.” I gestured to my sides with my chin. “Brought these two vigilantes with me, too.”

Hallan Borradan, my stepfather and the blood-father of Eirik and Damon, was next to show his squirrely, skinny hide near my mother. “Sons!” he exclaimed, rushing forward.

I flared my nostrils and stepped aside to let him embrace Damon and Eirik with all the tenderness a father was meant to show his kids, yet had never shown me.

Hallan had been Exhibit A when it came to reasons why I wanted to leave Selby Village. He was abusive to me, both verbally and physically, and it all made a lot more sense now that I was coming back, looking from the outside in.

Like theGray Wraith, everything seemed smaller here than before. Both my mother and stepfather looked frailer and older, with new wrinkles and grayer hair, even though I’d only been gone a year.

Hallan eyed my mates warily, and I stepped past him to speak with my mother. We embraced, and it felt nice to hold her again, even if her shoulders and bones seemed more brittle than before.

“I came as quickly as I could, Ma, I’m sorry.” As we hugged, I fought back tears. Stepping back with a sniffle, I gave her a once-over from head to foot, my face twisting with some confusion. “Strange, though,” I said. “You look hale.”

“It’s such a nice surprise seeing you, Ravi, but what do you mean, ‘as quickly as I could’?” Her expression of confusion marred her beautiful face. “What’s happened?”

“Erm, I got your letter.” At the sheer blankness on her face, I continued. “About you being sick?”

A shadow fell over her, suspicion mingling with the confusion. Lindi’s eyes darted past me, to Gothi Sigmund and the others, where her husband was still speaking with his sons.

My heart dropped to my boots, my face paling, and I knew it before she had to say a thing.

“Daughter . . . I never sent a letter to Vikingrune Academy.”

Ten minutes later, without trying to make too much of a stink about it, I stood in the main room of my old family longhouse. Ma was in front of me, with my mates behind me.

Sigmund, Canute, Eirik, Damon, Korvan, and Hallan were outside, setting up a makeshift eating area with the help of some villagers. A hasty feast was being planned for an hour from now, to welcome Selby’s “prestigious guests.”

The concern on Lindi’s face was palpable, making the longhouse feel stuffy and warm. Or maybe that was my fivesmoldering mates behind me, eyeing each other with shared suspicion.

“Tell me everything, sweetheart,” Ma began, folding her hands together in front of her workwoman’s gown. The room smelled lovely, of smoked fish and herbs.

With the sun beginning to set outside, she had clearly been preparing supper before we’d arrived. Now she had to prepare much, much more.

“We’ve not the time for all of it, I think.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Most pertinently, I received a letter from Gothi Sigmund with your name on it. It spoke of an illness befalling you, and requested I return to Selby in case you . . . worsened.”

Lindi scoffed and threw her arms out. “Well, I may be getting older, Ravi, but I’d say that’s no call for alarm!”

Arne and Grim chuckled behind me.

She scowled at them, shutting them up in an instant. Despite being the shortest, oldest person in the room, my mother never backed down to anyone, and it made me smile. It was what made her relationship with Hallan so infuriating, because he seemed to be the only one with any control over her—and he was the worst motherfucker to have it.

“The Hel is going on . . .” I muttered to myself, trying to backtrack.

Ma tapped her chin. “I have just the idea who might have written it, however.”

“Who?”

She ignored me, marching past with a scowl on her face to inspect my five guys standing in a row like eligible bachelors on a TV show. “And who are these ragamuffins, anyway, hmm?” She pointed at Corym. “This one’s ears are longer than yours!”

The elf smiled. “Indeed, ma’am. I am Corym E’tar, of Alfheim.”

---