“Thanks.” Edith goes back to work. She writes an English letter under each rune in neat handwriting:O M N I A
She pauses. Struggles. “Wait, isn’t this Latin?”
I lean over her shoulder, taking a closer look. “You’re right.”
The words are Latin, not Norse or Icelandic.
Edith peers down at the page, running a hand through her pale hair. With her distracting me, it takes me longer than I’d like to admit, but I finally decipher the runes myself.Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori.
Edith sighs, clearly frustrated. At first I think she’s giving up, but then she moves her pen down to the bottom of her page and draws a new symbol. Three triangles overlapping each other.
“Do you recognize this rune?” she asks.
I scoff at her. “It isn’t one.”
“How are you so sure? Wait.” Edith turns to me, her gaze narrowed. “You already read these runes, didn’t you?”
“Well, I don’t speak Latin,” I say, whichistrue.
“I know some,” Edith says. “So if we work together, we can solve this. Just tell me what each rune represents, and then I can translate—”
“No.”
I suspect I already know what it means. Our teacher used the same inscription last year. I have to rack my brain, but I believe it’s a passage from Virgil, a famous Roman poet, like Egill is to us. Something about love conquering everything so we should surrender to love.
I can’t bring myself to say those words out loud.
Especially not toEdith.
She leans closer, studying me. “You already know what it means, don’t you?”
She’s surprisingly perceptive. But I’m not going to tell her that, either.
Edith shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”
“I’m sure you can solve it yourself,” I tell her.
Her hand shoots straight up in the air. “Excuse me, we have the answ—”
I cover her mouth too late.
“Yes?” Mother asks, an amused expression on her face. “What is it?”
Edith turns to me, one of her eyebrows raised. “Yeah, what is it, Amund?”
I cast her a scathing look. Everyone else in the class is staring at me too, so why is it only Edith’s gaze that feels like a searingly hot iron? I clear my throat. I’ve already been embarrassed enough. No matter what I say now, I’ll just be adding to it.
“I-I don’t know,” I say through clenched teeth.
Mother frowns. “Does anyone else?”
The classroom falls silent.
“You’ll all be translating this individually tonight, then,” Mother calls out just as the bell rings. More than a few students groan.
Edith slams her notebook shut and jumps up as if she can’t wait to get away from me. She’s out the door before I can ask her where she’s going next.Damn it.The classroom is already clearing out. I leave quickly before Mother can try to approach me.
Father was right. I’m going to have to keep a close eye on Edith.
