Of course I was mistaken. As our conversation continued, she quickly closed herself off. I must have done something wrong. But what? I go back over our meeting again and again until my eyelids start to grow heavy, but nowhere near as heavy as my limbs. Exhaustion burrows into my bones, and finally—
Sleep.
I don’t stir until the clock tower chimes 6 a.m.
Damn it.The sound grates on my nerves.
Bright sunshine floods through the window. With a heavy sigh, I climb out of bed, rubbing my face to wake myself up. Class starts soon, and I can’t be late. Tardiness reflects poorly on me and, more important, on Father.
Outside, campus is already crowded with hunters. Each student I pass carries a weapon. Once, we might have been warriors. Heroes from the sagas. Now we are trained to hunt. To kill. And we do, to protect society from berserkir who lose control. Like I protected Edith and her sister yesterday.
I keep my eyes straight ahead—
Only to spot familiar brown curls.
Nils.
Seeing my brother stops me in my tracks. It always does.
I remember when he used to run to me and throw his arms around my neck. How I used to do my best to comfort him after one of Father’s scoldings, when Nils would cry until snot ran down his nose, which only made our father more furious.
Now he walks toward me without so much as lifting his head.
“Nils?” I hear myself asking.
He’s the last person I’d ever expect to see on the hunter campus. Nils never goes this way, and I’m sure it’s to avoid Father and me. Even on patrols, I’ve never seen him cross this campus.
Our eyes meet. Tension coils inside me, but he says nothing.
He ignores me, passing me by like a stranger, though he surely heard me call his name. We’re nothing to each other now: not brothers, not friends, not even acquaintances. The thought sends a sharp stab through my chest.
All because Father refused to accept that one of his sons prefers magic to hunting.
All becauseIdidn’t see what was happening until it was too late.
I turn, my eyes following Nils as he pulls out a book. A grimoire. He starts flipping through the pages, pretending he never noticed me. I’m glad for Nils. I am. I want to chase after him and say something more to him. Anything.
But I wouldn’t know where to start.
Nils disappears in the direction of the witch campus, where he now lives with Mother.
Some part of me hoped that my brother was here to see me.Foolish.
My legs keep moving in the opposite direction.
The training grounds are straight ahead.
Everyone is already gathered there, clad in combat leathers. Father stands before them, along with Idris, our other instructor. It’s fitting they teach Advanced Combat Training together. Not only are they our two strongest hunters but they clash constantly. While Father still hunts regularly, Idris retired long ago. Father oversees all of Skallagrim’s security; Idris teaches Philosophy and Ethics. Father hates berserkir; Idris married one.
As I take my place among the students, Father refuses to so much as look at me. He may not acknowledge my tardiness publicly, but I’m certain he will punish me for it later.
He always does.
“Now that everyone’s here,” Idris says, casting me a sympathetic smile, “Agnar and I will demonstrate the spear techniques we wentover last class. Watch closely and see how we apply them in combat.”
After careful consideration, Idris selects a spear, testing its balance. He was one of the finest hunters Skallagrim had ever seen, until he traded his bow and arrow for books and pens. But just because he chooses not to fight doesn’t mean hecan’t. Maybe that’s what true strength is.
Father cuts across the training grounds with self-assured strides, shoving a hand through his short dark hair. His close-clipped beard and mustache frame his scowl as he removes a spear from the weapon rack.
