CHAPTER THIRTY-ONEEDITH
“Are you coming to the vigil?” Tala calls out from the common area.
I stop working on my homework and open the door to my room. “What vigil?”
“One of the faculty was found dead last night,” Tala says with a frown. “Maeve’s husband. I know they were super in love, even though hardly anyone approved of their relationship, let alone marriage. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling. We’re all going to the vigil to support her.”
I pull on my coat. “Of course. What happened?”
“Apparently a wild berserkr got onto campus, and Idris was killed,” she says while we head out.
My legs move on their own. Did a wild berserkr really kill him—or did Isaac? It can’t be a coincidence someone else died. As we leave Odin Hall, all I can think of is Emilía. It makes me sick to my stomach. If something so horrific happened to Maeve’s husband… I hope I’m wrong for her sake.
“How is that possible?” I ask, following Tala toward the center of campus.
“Idris must have tried to stop the berserkr since he used to be a hunter himself.”
“Maeve is married to a hunter?” I ask.
Tala nods. “After they met, he gave up hunting for her.”
“Wow.”
I didn’t realize that was an option. He must have really loved Maeve, and now she’s lost him. My chest aches. I know all too well how it feels to lose someone you love to a berserkr.
It makes a sick sort of sense why Isaac killed Emilía, but why Idris? If he was a retired hunter, it’s not like Isaac evenknewhim. And since he gave up hunting and married a berserkr, I can’t imagine it was about revenge, either. So why?
Could it have actually been a wild berserkr like Tala said?
I nibble on a nail. Amund must know more. I need to talk to him.
When we reach the quad, hundreds of students are gathered around the statue of Egill. Candles cover the courtyard, bathing the buildings in a warm orange glow. Students hold small candles in their cupped palms, firelight flickering over their faces. Not just hunters but witches and berserkir alike. All of Skallagrim has come together to mourn.
Tala hands me a candle, and we join the rest of the students.
Some hunters are crying and comforting each other. Others are stone-faced, eyes coldly furious. The divide between hunters and berserkir has never felt so impassable. More than a few hunters glare in our direction, their faces full of violence.
They blame us.Allof us.
I don’t see Amund among the hunters. I look around, searching the faces of everyone gathered. Idris must have been one of his instructors. I can’t imagine Amund would miss this vigil.
Helga is standing before the statue of Egill, wearing a somber expression and pitch-black clothes. “We’re gathered here today to honor Idris Cadwalader. Not only was he one of our finest instructors, but he wasalso an integral part of our community.” Helga looks out over the crowd. “I know he served as a mentor to many of you.”
There he is. Amund stands on the outskirts of the crowd, hanging back by himself. His hands are empty. Even without a candle, he looks like he’s trying to hold back tears. My stomach squeezes at the sight of him. I know I belong with Tala and the berserkir students, but as soon as I see Amund, my body starts moving on its own.
Ihaveto go to him.
“Be right back,” I whisper to Tala.
When I reach Amund, the light from my candle illuminates the tears running down his cheeks. I’ve never seen him so exposed, not even when he drank the truth-teller potion. This is a different kind of honesty. Not words but raw emotion. And I wonder if that’s why he’s back here, standing away from everyone, so that no one else can see.
“Amund,” I say gently. It’s all I can manage, seeing him like this.
His throat works. “Edith.”
Just the way he says my name, I can hear how much pain he’s in. Idris must have been really important to Amund too, even more than a teacher. I hate seeing him hurt like this.
“Here, take my candle,” I say, not knowing what else I can offer him.
