Chapter Three Edith #2
Only the second rider slows his horse. He has a strong jaw and broad shoulders, but there’s something gentle about his eyes.
He can’t be much older than me. His brown hair is the same shade as his horse’s, the color of milk chocolate.
Instead of a varsity jacket, he’s decked out in leather armor, looking like the handsome hero from a fairy tale.
“The gates should have opened on their own,” he says, his voice low and deep as he stops right beside me. “They’re enchanted to open for anyone with seier who wants to enter.”
Seier. He says it so casually.
But magic is something that belongs in books, not real life. Even after three weeks, I can barely believe it.
Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe Helga was wrong. Maybe I’m not a berserkr after all and can go back home.
The young rider searches my face. “Seems you don’t want to be here.”
“Can you blame me?” A small laugh escapes. “We just arrived and were almost eaten by wolves.”
He smiles, a dimple forming. Oh. Make that very handsome. That smile of his sends my stomach swooping. He’s way hotter than Jason or anyone else at Saint Vincent’s, and he actually seems nice and respectful.
I peer up at him through my lashes. “So, who can I thank for saving us?”
“What?” he asks, completely clueless.
“I was asking for your name.”
“Oh.” He’s dead serious. “I’m Amund.” He peers down from his horse like he’s expecting me to share my name, too.
“Edith,” I offer, staring up at him.
Our eyes lock.
Bea clears her throat loudly. “My name is Beatrice, but you can call me Bea.”
“Nice meeting you both,” Amund says, still gazing at me. “I have to go, but I hope I’ll see you around.”
He lifts his reins, ready to leave. After what happened with Jason, I swore off boys completely. So why is my attention drifting to Amund’s lips? Why am I desperate to talk to him even a moment more?
“Wait,” I call out.
Amund pauses, his expression searching.
“Is Skallagrim even safe?” I ask, unsure what else to say.
A corner of his mouth lifts. “That’s what we’re here for.”
It’s only then that I notice a heap of fur behind Amund. No, a dead wolf is draped over the back of his horse, paws dangling. Cold pricks my skin. The wolf is massive, larger than I thought possible. If those wolves the older rider scared away are berserkir like I suspect, then…
A shiver spreads through me. “Were… were those wolves students?”
“Once,” Amund says, his voice rough. “They lost control and can no longer turn back, so now they roam the Wilds.”
Helga never mentioned that possibility.
That sounds like my worst nightmare.
“And you… hunt them?” I tighten my grip on my suitcase handle.
Amund gives a grave nod, but doesn’t elaborate.
Suddenly, I’m seeing this boy in a whole new light.
Any thought of flirting is just as dead as that wolf behind him.
A hunter is the last person I should be attracted to.
I don’t know which is more terrifying—that I might lose control of my rage and be trapped as an animal, or that there are people like Amund who hunt berserkir.
I swallow hard.
“I guess you wouldn’t know that,” Amund says, pressing his lips together. “You two are witches, right?”
“Yeah,” I blurt out, not wanting to admit to anyone I’m a berserkr, least of all myself. Especially not to someone who hunts them.
“What?” Bea looks up at me with wide eyes. “We—”
“Really love horses.” I shoot her a warning look before turning back to Amund. “Could my sister say hello?” I ask, gesturing toward his horse.
“Certainly.”
Bea approaches from the side, gently patting the horse’s neck. “It’s easier to reach since the horse is so small.”
“It’s an Icelandic horse,” Amund says. “They’re the only kind we have here. They’re hardy and live long.”
“Careful,” I tell Bea, unsure if I’m talking about the horse or its rider.
“Is it just the two of you?” Amund asks. “Normally when new students arrive, their families come to drop them off.”
“Yeah,” I say coolly. “It’s just us.”
Handsome or not, I can’t wait to get away from him.
The other hunter shouts his name.
“I have to go,” Amund says, sounding reluctant to leave.
I nibble on my lower lip, trying to hide my relief. “Thanks again.”
Amund opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but stops himself. He nods and then follows the other hunter deeper into Skallagrim.
They ride past a stately woman hustling down the walk toward us, flanked by two students. The woman wears a long, loose dress with a thick shawl wrapped around her generous frame. Her shoulder-length gray hair bounces with every hurried step, surrounding a familiar face.
“Welcome to Skallagrim Academy!” Helga says.
I do a double take. “H-Helga? What are you doing here?”
She gives a wry smile. “You must have me confused with my twin.”
I notice the name tag she’s wearing, with HEADMISTRESS written beneath it.
“But your name…”
Helga waves her wrinkled hand. “One of us is actually Hilda, but our mother couldn’t tell us apart as babies, so we don’t know who is who, and we both prefer Helga.”
“Stubbornness must run in the family,” I say before I think better of it.
Helga barks a laugh. “I can see why Helly likes you.”
I blink. I wasn’t aware she did despite how long I’ve known her.
My Helga—Helly, I guess—is hard to read.
This Helga clears her throat. “Anyway, I wanted to welcome you and your sister personally. Skallagrim is more than just a school; it’s a community.
I brought two of our best and brightest students to show you around and help get you settled.
” Helga turns toward the boy. “One of whom is my nephew Nils.” Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “He’s something of a prodigy, really.”
“Aunt Hel,” Nils groans. Wearing a white shirt and dark pants, he has messy brown curls and a slight frame. He offers us a sheepish smile. “Edith and… Beatrice, right?”
“Bea,” she corrects him quickly.
The other student, a girl dressed in a cozy sweater and jeans with long wavy blond hair and doe-like eyes, shakes my hand. Despite her appearance, her grip is strong and confident. “I’m Emilía, student council president.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” Helga says.
“Thanks, Hel—Headmistress,” I say, catching myself quickly. This isn’t the same Helga I know, just someone who looks identical to her. Unlike my Helga, I haven’t known this woman most of my life. I don’t know what her motives are for taking someone like me in. A favor to her sister? Something else?
As we follow Nils and Emilía down the uneven cobblestone walkway, I look around campus.
Everything is bathed in fog. Every towering building seems ominous.
Spires remind me of sharp teeth. Ancient stone is stained by something dark that looks a little too much like dried blood.
In the distance, a massive mountain overlooks the school.
“What do you know about Skallagrim?” Nils asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing, really.”
“Skallagrim’s huge!” Emilía says. “There are four main branches. Witches, berserkir, hunters, and…” She trails off, pursing her lips. “Anyway, we all study seier together.”
“Speaking of hunters, why do they go here?” I ask. “Doesn’t that seem a little dangerous?”
“We didn’t really have much of a choice,” Nils says with a frown. “It’s a long story.”
Emilía waves him away. “One you’ll learn all about in history.”
Bea groans. “We have to take history?”
“Let’s get started with the tour! I can’t wait to show you around,” Emilía says, unable to contain her excitement.
Seems she has Bea’s hyperactive energy. “As soon as you set foot in Skallagrim, you’re in the berserkr part of campus.
” She hurries ahead, walking down the cobbled path. “That’s what you two are, right?”
“Supposedly,” I say, gripping my suitcase handle.
Bea nods eagerly.
As we continue through the courtyard, a wolf with glowing yellow eyes lopes past. The little hairs on the nape of my neck rise in warning. A wolf. No—a berserkr. Just like the terrifying ones we encountered outside. I grab Bea. “Aren’t the gates supposed to keep the wolves out?”
Emilía barely glances at it. “That’s a student.”
A memory flashes before me. My dad is facing my mother, his shaggy back to me. He stands hunched on all fours, a beast pretending to be a man. Curved claws catch the moonlight—
I shrink back. Hunters aren’t the only dangerous ones at Skallagrim.
“Don’t worry, they won’t attack you—not the ones on campus, at least.” Nils offers me a sympathetic look. “The students here are in control of their animal forms.”
“For the most part,” Emilía says. “Over here is Odin Hall, the berserkir dorms, where you’ll be living.”
Odin Hall is a striking stone building that towers over us. Behind these walls, there are even more berserkir. And now Bea and I are going to have to live with them.
“You guys are lucky,” Emilía continues. “You get suites, unlike us. We have to deal with roommates and common bathrooms.”
“Someone is always singing opera in the shower,” Nils adds with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not well, unfortunately.”
“I guess we are lucky,” I say, even though I feel anything but. At least I won’t have to worry about sharing my room with someone.
“This is the quad,” Emilía says once we reach a wide open area surrounded by numerous buildings. “Think of it as the heart of Skallagrim.”
“All the shared facilities are here,” Nils continues, “like the admin wing, lecture hall, cafeteria, and infirmary.”
“The library is over there,” Emilía says. “My roommate practically lives there.”
I nod, trying to take in everything they’re saying while wheeling my luggage and surveying the campus with Bea. Directly ahead, an imposing statue of a man dominates the quad.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“Egill Skallagrímsson,” Nils says. “Our school’s founder.”
I crane my neck back and peer up at the statue. A wolf pelt covers his head, but what’s visible of his face is ferocious, reminding me of my dad. I shiver at the sight.