Chapter Thirteen Edith
Transforming is the last thing I want to do.
I have thirty minutes to get to my Transformation class, but I walk so slowly I’m almost late.
All I can think of is the nightmare when my teeth were falling out, replaced by fangs.
I came to Skallagrim so I could control the animal, not turn into one. Unfortunately, I may not have a choice.
A large group of boys is standing around and talking in the cloisters ahead. They’re all wearing simple linen tunics, looking less like a class and more like a cult. A cult I want nothing to do with.
Bits of conversation echo through the cloisters.
“Hey, man, I’m telling you, she’s not into you.”
“That’s not what she said last night,” another replies with a laugh.
I cringe. They sound just like Jason and his friends. Maybe Skallagrim isn’t so different after all. None of them are even talking about Emilía. If they knew she died, I doubt they’d all be standing around, laughing. At least I hope not.
Emilía’s dead body flashes before my eyes.
If I didn’t kill her, then someone else here did.
My nails are getting more and more ragged from how much I’m gnawing on them.
Until I figure out who, Bea is in danger.
We all are.
Folding my arms across my chest, I walk over to the group. They turn toward me as one. I can feel their eyes drag over me, so I straighten my spine and force a smile. Even though they’re still human, they could turn any second. I know better than anyone how deadly berserkir can be.
“Did you get lost again, new girl?” Isaac calls out.
“A little.”
“Good thing you found us. Take this,” Tala says, handing me a linen tunic dress. “We wear these so we aren’t constantly ruining our clothes when we transform, and so we have something to change into when we turn back.”
I stare at the rough linen dress. My clothes weren’t ruined after Emilía died, which means it couldn’t have been me, right?
Then again, I didn’t see any scraps of clothing nearby either.
I would’ve noticed that on my jog. So if her killer was transformed, it must not have been a spur-of-the-moment thing.
They didn’t just lose their temper and go berserk.
They planned the attack.
Tala waves a hand in front of my face. “Edith?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
I take the clothes from her, even though I have no intention of actually transforming.
“There’s a changing room over there,” Tala says. “And some lockers for you to keep your clothes in. Generally, it’s always a good idea to carry extra clothes until you learn how to fully control going berserk.”
“Thanks.”
I change quickly in the other room, coarse linen scratching my skin as I pull the tunic on. Even if I didn’t kill Emilía, I have to learn how to control myself, or I could still hurt someone else. Or worse.
Helly’s words still haunt me.
I rejoin the rest of the class, looking around at my classmates.
One of them must be the killer, but I don’t even know who anyone is or where to begin.
Unlike Tala, I just arrived at Skallagrim.
Like it or not, I could use her help getting to know the others—and hopefully to figure out which of them might be capable of murdering Emilía.
“So, who is everyone?” I ask Tala while we’re waiting.
“See the guys around Isaac? Those are the wolves. They call themselves the pack. Half of them play football, the other half play handball. Basically, any team sport.”
There’s a group of guys all laughing and slapping shoulders with Isaac. They must be the ones I overheard earlier. Jason and his friends always reminded me of animals, but here? They actually are. A few of them stand off to the side, away from the main pack.
“What about them?” I ask.
Tala frowns. “Skallagrim has a few lone wolves, too.” She tips her chin toward a smaller group of brown-haired students with bulky builds. “Over there are the boars. They tend to avoid us instinctually since we’re their predators in the wild.”
Sympathy squeezes my stomach. What would it be like to be surrounded by predators all day? Hurt my brother, Amund told me, and I will hunt you down. With Amund and the hunters at Skallagrim, I think I know how the boars must feel.
You’re never safe, not really.
As I look over the group, I notice someone with hair so dark brown it’s almost black—the same color as my dad’s—and plenty of piercings.
“That’s Kris,” Tala says. “They’re nonbinary, and the only cool boar.”
So a wolf and a boar can be friends? I think I’ve seen them sitting with Tala and Isaac a few times in the dining hall. Maybe even berserkir can overcome their nature.
“And them?” I ask, gesturing toward a small group of tall boys.
“Bears,” Tala says. “Best to avoid them. Even as humans, they can be real… well, bears, for lack of a better word.”
One of these students isn’t just an animal. They’re a killer.
A massive gray bear prowls toward us, and everything in me locks up. The animal is much larger than I’d expect, but every movement is lethally graceful. Pretty sure I’ve never seen a bear like that before.
Tala frowns. “Speaking of bears, looks like Gunnar finally showed up.”
With each step the animal takes… it starts to change.
One moment there is a bear.
I blink, and there’s an old man standing before us, completely naked.
What the hell? I look away quickly, backing up until I bump the curve of a low cloister.
I can’t be the only one seeing this, can I?
Clearing my throat, I quickly glance from Tala to the rest of the class.
No one seems fazed by any of this in the slightest. As if it’s completely normal for bears to turn into naked humans—and so easily, too.
This must be Gunnar. Our teacher.
“Welcome to Transformation,” he says in a thick Icelandic accent.
Gunnar is missing his right eye, and it’s impossible to tell how old he is. His skin is wrinkled and creased with age, but despite that, he looks toned and lean. I think he might even have a six-pack? Which I can tell because he’s not wearing a shirt. I’m not looking any lower.
“Um, why is he naked?” I whisper to Tala.
Before she can respond, Gunnar’s gaze lands on me. “So we have a new student. Introduce yourself.”
Now the whole class is looking at me like hungry animals.
I do my best to focus on Gunnar’s face as he pulls on a new tunic. “I’m Edith.”
“Your name isn’t what I want to know,” Gunnar says, waving a wrinkled hand toward me. “Who are you, Edith?”
I stare at him. How am I supposed to answer that?
Gunnar beats a hand against his chest. “You are a berserkr.”
I recoil at his raised voice, hugging my arms against my chest. He says it like it’s something to be proud of, but I don’t want to be one. I never asked for any of this. All I want is to be normal.
“So let me rephrase,” he shouts. “What are you?”
Something inside me stirs at his question, but I push it down. Far, far away.
“I don’t know.” The words come out as small as I feel.
Gunnar breathes in deeply. “So you haven’t transformed yet. Your scent is repressed too.”
Some students snicker.
“A berserkr who can’t go berserk?” one of the boys calls.
Gunnar shakes his head, ignoring the cajoling of the other students. “What were your parents?”
“My dad was a… wolf.”
“Then so are you.”
I swallow hard. That’s what I’m afraid of.
“What kind of animal we are is inherited,” Gunnar continues. “I think it’s time we begin today’s lesson. We’ll start with some practice. Try to transform as smoothly as possible, while maintaining control.”
Everyone breaks off by themselves. It reminds me of track when we do warm-ups as a group. Letting my animal out is the last thing I want to do. But I have to learn how to get myself under control before the Unity Celebration. I have to prove to my foster parents I’m fine.
Chewing on my lip, I glance around nervously, not knowing where to look first. Kris snarls. Their canines grow longer, curling upward into tusks.
Tala starts to change before my eyes. She flicks her hands out, nails lengthening and sharpening into claws.
Her skin ripples, sprouting dark fur, as she drops to her hands and knees.
Bone crunches. Snaps. My heart pounds as I watch her in horror.
It’s like something out of my nightmares.
And then a sleek black wolf stands on four legs where Tala was moments ago.
Now I’m in a class full of wolves and boars and bears.
I’m not ready for this. It’s too much. Way too much.
“Transform,” Gunnar says from behind me.
Startled, I spin around, my breathing shallow.
Why the hell would anyone want to do that?
“I don’t know how,” I admit.
Gunnar sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “Get angry. Surrender yourself to your rage.”
“No.” That’s way too dangerous. I back away from him, shaking my head so hard my hair sways. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”
I run past the room of wild animals and straight for the exit.
The sleek black wolf cuts me off, blocking my escape.
Tala.
I stumble back, putting as much distance between us as I can. I don’t even know if she’s in control anymore, or if this is just a predator hunting its prey now. In her glowing yellow eyes, I can see my own reflection, my face full of terror. Is this how Emilía felt before she was killed?
How Mom felt?
Tala’s rumbling growl brings me back to that night.
The animal sounds I heard through the door blend with the snarls of my classmates as they transform.
I worry my lip between my teeth, looking around as they grow fangs and claws and tusks.
The growling grows louder and louder as Tala prowls closer and closer.
I snarl, unleashing a low, guttural sound.
My arm twitches, my muscles starting to spasm.
I can feel… something happening.
No. No.
The animal inside me tries to claw its way free. My own skin suddenly feels too tight, too restrictive. I’m panting from the pain, fighting the urge to go berserk.
Gunnar circles me. “The more you resist, the worse you make it.”
I swallow a scream. It feels like I’m being shredded from the inside, the animal scratching at my ribs. It’s becoming so uncomfortable I want to tear off my own skin. “What if I don’t want to transform?”
“Eventually you won’t have a choice,” Gunnar says, pacing around me. “So just give in.”
But I can’t. I won’t. Does he even realize what he’s demanding of me? When my claws came out, I didn’t know what was happening. I was angry. Too angry. If I transform again, someone else could get hurt—or killed.
Tears burn my eyes.
“Go berserk!” Gunnar screams in my face.
I shrink back, making myself small. All the students are staring at me now. No one seems to be practicing their transformations anymore. Standing here in front of everyone, I’m not angry, I’m afraid.
Hot tears spill down my cheeks. “I… I can’t.”
So I do what I’m best at: I run.
“Berserking is a gift,” Gunnar calls after me.
It doesn’t feel like it at all. It feels more like a curse.