My eyes begin burning, not full of tears of pain, but of rage. My father had trained me in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. Not once had he ever treated me this way. Even when I would be arrogant or challenging, he was always kind and patient. What Julius is doing is retaliation for my threateninghis position. Despite his towering frame and lifetime here, he’s just a small, weak-minded little boy with too much power.
He knocks me to the ground again, but this time, I struggle to rise.
Mathilda shoves past him, having seen enough of this abuse, and pulls me up. Julius takes offense at her help and squares up to her. She angles me behind her while Tane takes up a position right behind Julius. Tane’s eyes blaze with barely contained wrath. He’s absolutely terrifying. Julius realizes he’s trapped between the two of them, and his smirk fades.
Mathilda speaks with lethal quiet. “That is not the way we train Valkyries, especially not our future queen.”
Julius doesn’t balk at her tone, even though her voice sends shivers down my spine.
He crosses his arms. “Interesting that you think you deserve an opinion. When thecurrent queensaw me fit to be in charge of her training.”
Mathilda continues to stare him down. “She’s done for the day. We will escort her back to the Great Hall.”
She reaches back, wrapping an arm around my waist, and keeps herself between me and Julius as she leads us past him. Tane glares at Julius a beat longer and then falls into step with us. Taking up the position on my other side.
Needing to have the last word, Julius shouts, “See you tomorrow,Helena!”
The raven perched on the tree flies above us, soaring towards the Great Hall. Mathilda follows it with her eyes, a slow grin softening her feral expression.
Once we’ve reached the Great Hall, Mathilda mutters to Tane, “Go check.”
He nods and begins jogging back outside. Mathilda finally lets go of my waist and turns to me.
“Are you okay?” Worry creases her brow as she checks me over for any injuries. I’m covered in dust, and my cheek throbsfrom where it smacked against the ground. But thankfully, my necklace remained tucked under my leathers, the shining gold remaining dust-free.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I dust the dirt off my leathers. “Thank you for sticking up for me back there. I didn’t want to upset Odessa,” I mutter my excuse.
I don’t imagine my only family member on this island would take too kindly to me punching her mate in his arrogant face. But I’m beyond relieved to see that Mathilda and Tane will have my back no matter the opponent.
Mathilda rolls her eyes. “Julius is a wanker. I get into it with him at least a dozen times a day. No worries at all.”
Her concern dulls the anxiety that had begun dampening my palms. “Thanks again.”
She smiles at me before turning on her heel and following Tane. The smell of an impending storm floats in from the direction she left. Memories of Lachlan bubble up, and I follow them to the terrace.
It’s stronger here than it was inside, and I inhale deeply, allowing the familiar scent to dull the bitterness of my anger. I scan the horizon for storms, but there’s not a cloud in the sky now.
I know he’s not really here either, but if I ever want to see him again, I have to get this magic thing figured out quickly. With that thought, I decide I need to do some research on this place and its training customs or history to speed this along. I march off in search of the library.
My chest hurts as I take in the pitiful remains of what was once a grand library. Rows of empty shelves line the colossal bookcases. There should be thousands of books here, but there are only a few.
What has happened?
My footsteps echo through the empty chamber. Light spills in from the windows high above and the hole in the ceiling.Torches line the wall, casting light into the shadows between the shelves. This is a tomb; the emptiness gnaws on my soul. I stroke the spines of several books I pass, but none of them pique my interest. I need to read something about the history or customs here to better understand their ways. But all that lines the shelves are math books, philosophy texts, biographies on the different gods, and a few plant books.
There’s nothing about the realm itself. No genealogy texts, religious customs, training guides, or history books.
How strange.
I know Odessa said they don’t observe the old ways anymore, but shouldn’t there still be evidence of their past?
I find a shelf of what looks like children’s fables. Picking one, I carry it over to one of the small reading tables. Pages ruffle as I flip through them, and my eyes widen. Stories my parents told me are beautifully portrayed on its pages.
Pookas, giants, selkies, witches, dragons, and the fae. Their stories are all combined within the many pages. I flip through to the end and pause. There, on the last page, is a picture of a man with hair black as night, emerging from the sea to battle a dragon. The words above the picture read: Sigurd and the Dragon.
I smile fondly at the picture, remembering the story my father once told me.
Sigurd battles the dragon that guards the Valkyrie, who was sent to the human realm as punishment and turned into a swan. Once Sigurd slays the dragon, he rescues the Valkyrie and removes her cloak so she turns back into a maiden, and they fall in love. He would always kiss my mom at the part, and younger me would make retching noises.
