I laugh. If only he knew.
As soon as I open my mouth, the driver’s eyes shoot wide. He grips the steering wheel tighter, all white knuckles, and shifts in his seat like he’s the uncomfortable one now.
“Should be there soon,” he says, suddenly nervous.
There’s no more polite conversation after that.
What just happened? Is there something in my teeth? I check my smile in the rearview mirror, but it looks… wrong. My canines are impossibly long and sharp. Too sharp to belong to a girl. All the air leaves my lungs. These… these are an animal’s teeth. The taxi shrinks around me.
Get it together, Edith.
I focus on my breathing, just like my therapist said I should whenever I start to panic. In and out. In and out. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’m fine. This is the whole reason I’m going to Skallagrim. So I can learn how to control myself. And then I’m going to push this power sofar down, it will never come out again. Problem solved.
When I run my tongue along my teeth, they’re smooth and round.
Thank God.
Bea is still glued to her window, completely oblivious to what just happened. Despite what Helga said, I have to hope she isn’t a berserkir too. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy, let alone my sister.
“Look, horses!” Bea exclaims excitedly.
Leaning over, I catch a glimpse of two riders on horseback as we drive past. Both are decked out in leather and have bows slung around their backs, looking like they belong in one of the fairy tales Mom used to read me before bed.
Thankfully, no big bad wolves in sight.
Ahead, mountains rise on the horizon, towering in the distance. Each sharp peak looks threatening enough to be a volcano, but instead of hot ash, thick clouds hover over them. An ancient-looking school appears in the rocky wilderness. It’s a far cry from Saint Vincent’s Prep School. There’s something brutal and wild about Skallagrim Academy, as if it’s been carved from the mountain crag or it erupted violently from the earth.
“Here we are,” the driver says, sounding relieved as we pull up in front.
After paying for the ride with Patricia’s card, I climb out of the car quickly and breathe in the damp, wild air. Bea joins me, her mouth hanging open as she looks around in wonder. The cabdriver pops the trunk. Cold wind whips my hair as I walk around the side of the car. Howls echo through the valley, chilling me down to my bones.
“Did you hear that?” I manage to ask.
The driver gives me a dubious look. “Hear what?”
I fall silent. I’m sure I heard howling, but now all I can hear is the wind.
“Need help with your bags?” the driver prompts.
“Huh? No, I got it.” I haul Bea’s suitcase out of the trunk before grabbing mine. They’re surprisingly light considering all the clothes crammed into them, enough to last us the rest of the semester. Patricia spent the last week helping us pack.
“Well, if that’s all, then,” the driver says, climbing back into the car. “I should get going.”
And with that, he slams the door and speeds off, leaving us alone.
Unease scrapes over my skin as I face Skallagrim. Iron gates stand between us and the school, reminding me of the cemetery where our parents are buried. An elaborateSmarks each gate. Across the top, words are wrought in iron:NONE SHALL ENGRAVE THE RUNES WHO KNOWS NOT TO READ THEM.
“How do we get in?” Bea asks, craning her neck back.
“No idea.”
Normally, the cemetery gates are thrown open like arms, welcoming visitors from dawn to dusk. These must be automatic. Leaving my luggage behind, I approach the gates, wondering if there’s some kind of sensor that will open them. Nothing happens no matter how close I get.
Great. Skallagrim Academy is less welcoming than a graveyard.
Wolves howl again, louder than before.
“Hello?” I call out, peering between the bars like a prison cell.
