Dorian blows out a breath. “Did you see how the argr was holding her hand in the middle of class? He probably needs her to protect him since he can’t do it himself.”
They all laugh.
Without thinking, I cut off their path. “You’d better not be talking about my brother.”
“Well, if it isn’t Daddy’s Boy,” Dorian says, posturing. He gives me the same smug expression he always wears, like he thinks he can get away with anything. He tries to walk past me, bumping my shoulder, but I grab his arm before he can.
“I told you not to call Nils that.”
“Or what? What are you going to do about it?” Dorian asks, pushing my shoulder.
I shove him against the wall. “You don’t want to find out, I promise you. You think you’re so great, Dorian, but youknowI’m better, and all the times I’ve already taken you down in training? Well, let’s just say I’ve been going easy on you.” I lower my face toward his. “Consider this your last warning.”
Dorian looks nervous now. Good.
His friends pull me back, and Dorian brushes off his shoulders, casting me a glare.
As they hurry away, I return to the shadows. I shouldn’t have gotten involved like that, not when I’m supposed to be lying in wait for Edith, but I couldn’t help myself. Clenching my jaw, I lean back in the doorway. I won’t allow them to talk about Nils like that.
More students pass by, holding umbrellas and chattering with each other on their way to the dining hall. With the seer campus at my back, I don’t have to worry about anyone coming this way. No one so much as looks in this direction. It’s been so long since the Tragedy that moststudents have no idea what happened. Just like they have no idea there was a killing two nights ago.
Or that the killer is still among them.
Helga refuses to tell anyone. Even if it means endangering Skallagrim’s students, she’s doing everything she can to keep the murder quiet. Probably because the Unity Celebration is approaching. She must have something big planned, because she—
Edith walks through the quad. Even beneath an umbrella, her short white hair stands out, almost as much asshedoes.
Then I see who is with her.
Nils.I narrow my eyes at them as they walk past, engaged in quiet conversation while Nils shields her with his umbrella. So much for my warning. Why couldn’t he listen to me?The argr actually got a girlfriend, Dorian and his friends said. Could my brother really beinvolvedwith Edith? The thought sends a stab of pain through my chest.Focus, Amund.
Instead of the dining hall, Nils steers her toward the witches’ section. “This way.”
Why would Nils be bringing Edith to the witch campus?
The girl she killed was a witch. Emilía Jónsdóttir. Is Edith trying to cover her tracks, like a hunter would? See if she left any evidence behind?
Edith seems oblivious as her little sister sneaks up behind her. She whirls around, knocking Bea down on the stone walkway. My eyes narrow. Edith had seemed to really care about her sister when I’d first met them, but I guess I was mistaken. When it comes to Edith, I’ve been mistaken about a lot of things. If she’s even hurting her own sister, what will she do tomybrother? I think back to my earlier conversation with Nils, when I tried to warn him about her, and how defensive he was. He’ll never listen to me now.
Nils must like Edith.
Amurderer.
Edith has barely been here four days. But Nils has always been eager to dive headfirst into whatever his interest is and ask questions later. I guess that also applies to girls. As Bea runs off to join her friends, Edith seems aloof, unreadable, so unlike Nils. He wears his heart on his sleeve. If she is what I suspect she is, then he’s only going to get his heart broken.
Or ripped out of his chest.
Now I really have to stop her, before my brother becomes her next victim. I didn’t protect Nils from our father, and the shame of that haunts me to this day. It always will. But I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him from Edith now. I can’t let them out of my sight.
Sooner or later, Edith will slip up.
And I’ll be there to catch her when she does.
CHAPTER SEVENTEENEDITH
“Irina should be in the library,” Nils says. Rain droplets roll down his umbrella, forming a curtain around us. “She doesn’t just work there—she practically lives there.”
He continues talking, but I’m barely paying attention. I keep thinking about Bea.
