“Why?”
“Nothing good ever came from spirits,” Father says, focusing on his task. “I know what you’re thinking. What about seiðr, right? But this world would be a better place without our magic. At the very least, berserkir would not exist.”
I ball my hand into a fist at my side, thinking of Edith. “That doesn’t sound like a world I want to live in.”
“Well, you haven’t seen the things I have” is all Father says.
The silence turns suffocating.
I bring my gaze to the photo of his dead brother on the wall. Trygve stares back at me.
“Like the Tragedy?” I ask.
Father considers a long moment.
“Even back then,” he says, “there were never that many seers. The rules were very strict. We were held to the highest standard, as we should be if we’re going to walk the line between the living and the dead.
“But your uncle, he… he was driven, intelligent, determined. I looked up to him, and so did many others. Trygve was a born leader. He wasn’t happy with the limitations our instructors placed on us. So he formed a secret society of seers, one where they could explore the boundaries of their power without any oversight from adults.”
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.
I stare at Trygve’s portrait. “Wait… are you saying myunclewas responsible for the Tragedy?”
Father nods gravely. “A spirit convinced Trygve to perform a ritual to return the spirit to our realm. Trygve and his followers, those fools, believed the spirit would be indebted to them and would grant them more power, just as spirits once taught us seiðr.” His voice turns bitter. “If only they listened to me. Spirits cannot be trusted. They always have their own agenda. Trygve didn’t realize that by doing so, he would open a gateway foranywho wished to return.”
My blood runs cold.
What he’s describing sounds like the student Edith and I overheard arguing with his teacher in the seer school. That student must have been my Uncle Trygve.
“Thatis why the school had to be closed,” Father continues. “Since the Tragedy, the door to the spirit realm was torn open, allowing spirits greater access to our world. With the veil between worlds so much thinner, ghosts have more power there, and can be seen and heard by anyone, not just seers.”
“What actually happened back then?” I make myself finally ask.
“When I realized what Trygve was doing, I tried to stop theritual, but I was already too late. Trygve was a damned fool. The spirits who had returned were the most vengeful ones—those who had died at Skallagrim over its long, brutal history. They stole the seers’ bodies and began to unleash havoc on the campus, killing as many as they could.”
The weight of his words settles over me.
I shake my head slowly. “I… had no idea.”
No wonder Father never speaks of Trygveorthe Tragedy. He must blame himself for his brother’s death. For not being able to stop the Tragedy in time. If I were in his shoes, so would I. Suddenly, it makes sense why Father is as hard as he is. Those events changed him.
“Then what happened?” I ask, fearing I already know the answer.
“Complete carnage,” Father says solemnly. “After being attacked, some berserkir lost themselves to a killing frenzy, unable to turn back. Many more seers, witches, and hunters died that day, including Trygve and the possessed students who were responsible for bringing this down upon us.”
My stomach plummets. “Those berserkir… they’re the wild wolves outside of Skallagrim, aren’t they?”
“That’s right.”
No wonder Father hates the berserkir so much, and why he insists on hunting the wild berserkir so relentlessly. Those are the berserkir who were involved in the Tragedy. Who knows how many students they killed that day?
But it wasTrygvewho caused the Tragedy.
“Afterward, seers were banned from Skallagrim,” Father continues, pouring the finished mixture into the grenade. “Any surviving seers were dismissed and the school shut down. Because I tried to prevent the Tragedy and wanted nothing more to do with my power, I was allowed to remain here as a hunter.”
Father screws the lid back on tightly and replaces the safety clip. “I’m determined to do whatever it takes to ensure nothing like thatever happens again. Thirty years ago, Trygve used the Unity Dance as a distraction so they could sacrifice three seers under the guise of an initiation ritual.”
Thatmust have been what Edith and I overheard at the seer school.
