Chapter Twenty-Six Amund
Father is waiting for me in the central courtyard.
My legs move on their own, carrying me toward him despite my exhaustion, despite my pain. Now that Edith is safe and my adrenaline has drained away, I can feel the price I paid to save her. I try to use the pain to focus.
“What took so long?” Father demands.
I know better than to offer any excuse. Father is like an animal. Show a hint of fear, and he will use the opening to strike. “There was another attack.”
Father doesn’t seem surprised. “And the victim?”
Edith flashes in my mind. Her tear-streaked face, blood streaming down her chin like a gory waterfall. “Still alive.”
His eyes widen, but he quickly recovers. “So we have a witness, then. Did you question her?”
That gives me pause. I never mentioned Edith, or even that it was a girl who was attacked.
Maybe Helga has already updated him on the situation, or he heard it from one of the students we passed on our way to the infirmary.
Or he could just be assuming. So far, the only victim has been a girl.
It isn’t a leap to presume that another one was attacked.
Father is a hunter. On a hunt, you have to predict what your prey will do next based on the information you have.
It wouldn’t be hard for him to figure that out.
“No need to. I was there.”
“Were you?” Father looks me over, surveying the rips in my leathers from the beast’s claws. I didn’t have time to change after taking Edith to the infirmary. When Nils said Father was looking for me, I knew the longer it took me to show up, the worse his mood would grow.
I press my lips together and swallow any excuses down.
He cuts me a scathing glance. “You mean you allowed the killer to escape?”
“Edith needed my help,” I tell him, deciding to stand by my choice.
I know what Father would have chosen, but for once, I don’t regret that I chose differently.
I couldn’t leave Edith alone. If Nils hadn’t shown up at the infirmary, I don’t know that I would’ve been able to leave her side at all.
Even with Nils there, it was hard to tear myself away.
Until I saw how practiced my brother was as he tended to her, and I knew he was far better at it than I could ever be. No matter how much I wanted to be the one to care for Edith.
How much I still want to. But that’s selfish.
Foolish.
“Do you think she can be of use?” Father asks.
“I don’t want to involve her any more than she already is,” I answer honestly.
This entire time, I was wrong about her, believing her guilty when she was innocent. I hesitated briefly before I left, but now I’m certain. I don’t deserve to be anywhere near Edith after what I put her through. All I can do now is hunt down whoever hurt her.
“I was able to injure the beast before it fled,” I tell Father, hoping it will be enough to appease him, or at least keep Edith’s name out of his mouth. “I should be able to use that to identify which berserkr it was.”
Father nods. “Stop by the infirmary tomorrow and find out if anyone has come in with similar injuries.”
“Will do.”
I’m grateful for the excuse to see how Edith is doing too.
“We can discuss this while we scour the campus,” Father continues.
I fight the fatigue weighing me down at the thought of patrolling the entire campus. Despite my exhaustion, despite my pain, we have no choice. We have to catch the killer. Tonight.
“Did you see which way the beast went?” Father asks.
I shake my head. “I didn’t.”
“Luckily, it left tracks.”
Sure enough, there’s a massive paw print pressed into the soil on our right. Heading toward the berserkr campus. Maybe I won’t need to go to the infirmary tomorrow after all.
Father moves quickly. “Did you notice anything that could be useful?”
I do my best to keep pace with him. “The creature—it was as big as the berserkir we see in the Wilds and just as strong.”
“Or perhaps you were weaker,” Father says. “You’ve never confronted a berserkr by yourself. You would’ve been killed countless times if not for me.”
“I’ve saved you a few times too.”
Father barks a laugh. “Have you? I don’t recall.”
“Sure,” I tell him, surprised by his brief moment of levity. Despite waiting for me awhile, he doesn’t seem to be in as foul a mood as I feared. I should be relieved, but I doubt it will last for long. Especially if we don’t track the killer down.
“If it was a wild berserkr, it wouldn’t be able to take human form again,” I point out.
“Who says it did?” Father asks. “You’re making assumptions. If we were on a hunt, what would we do? Follow the tracks and see what story they tell us.”
“Yes, I know.”
“The killer could be a student, I suppose, but how are they able to turn human again after killing? Most berserkir can’t do that once their humanity is lost. Isn’t the more likely explanation that we’re looking in the wrong place?”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Look where these lead.”
The tracks continue through the berserkr campus—directly to Skallagrim’s wide-open gates.
“How?” I ask. “The gates shouldn’t open for a wild berserkir.”
“Maybe someone let them in. Maybe the gates malfunctioned. Either way, we’ll need to investigate this. It’s time we went back into the Wilds.”
Howls rise in the night air, sending a chill through me.
It’s going to be another long night.
When I return to the infirmary the next afternoon, all I can think of is carrying Edith here last night. Her skin was paler than usual, her breathing shallow, her eyelids fluttering as I held her in my arms. She was going into shock. I’ve seen it happen to hunters before.
Stay with me, I told her.
When I burst through the doors, the infirmary was empty. I laid her on the nearest bed, trying not to focus on the blood streaming down her chin, covering her chest and soaking her clothes. Seeing her like that made it hard to remain clearheaded.
Now the infirmary is full of hunters being treated after training.
I stop in the doorway, scanning the room for Edith, but my gaze lands on Mother instead.
The last time I came here to see her, my lip had been split.
The mouth has a rich blood supply, she explained while tending to me, which means it can cause significant bleeding.
Luckily, I still remember everything she did. That was the only reason I knew what to do to help Edith. Why I thought of using the hemostatic powder. Why I knew to use the saline solution to clean the wound after. All thanks to my mother.
There’s no sign of Edith. She must be back in her dorm already.
A pang of longing stabs me in the chest. I lean against the doorway and watch my mother while she smears ointment on a hunter’s injury. Her practiced movement reminds me of Nils and how he touched Edith far more gently than I could.
“There,” Mother says, a small smile spreading across her face. “Give it a few days, and it should be fully healed.” She screws the lid carefully back on the tin and sets it aside, brushing off her skirt as she stands.
As soon as she notices me, her mouth makes an O.
She rushes toward me, grabbing fistfuls of her skirt to keep from tripping. I see so much of Nils in her, and vice versa.
“Amund? Are you hurt?”
The pain in my chest sharpens at the concern in her voice, but I force myself to shake my head.
I have more injuries than I can count, none of which I can show her.
“I’m fine,” I tell her so she won’t worry about me any more than she probably already does.
“I just had a few questions I wanted to ask you.”
“Only if you let me treat you,” Mother insists.
“Fine.” I have a hard time refusing her anything.
She guides me over to one of the empty beds, sitting down beside me. She turns my face this way and that. Apart from minor cuts and scrapes from last night, there isn’t anything worth her concern. Still, her frown deepens. “Are you getting rest, Amund?”
I can’t remember the last time I got a full night’s sleep. “I get enough,” I tell her. Last night was particularly bad. I spent all night scouring the Wilds with Father, and still we found nothing.
She looks me over, but she doesn’t push any further. “Will you let me examine you?”
“There’s no need for that. I just wanted to ask if any berserkir have come in to be treated.”
She taps her chin. “A few, but mostly your hunter classmates, as you can see.” She sighs, twisting her skirt in her hands. “I worry about you, you know. If your father—”
“I’m fine, Mother. Really. Did any of the students have injuries to their collarbones or their right forearm?” I ask, trying to approximate where the dagger wound would end up being after the berserkr transformed back. If they transformed back.
Mother purses her lips. “You know patient records are confidential, Amund. I can’t tell you.”
I lean closer and whisper, “It’s involving the attack.”
She sucks her teeth. “I don’t want you getting mixed up in that.”
“It’s my responsibility,” I tell her. “I can handle it—don’t worry. Who do you think injured the beast?” I add, trying to reassure her with my bravado.
“What?” Mother starts checking my body in earnest. “That’s it. Remove your leathers. Let me treat you. If you cooperate, I’ll tell you.”
Gritting my teeth, I peel off my armor with a groan. My arm still hadn’t healed after our recent hunt, and it’s only gotten worse after last night. This time, I was injured protecting a berserkr instead of hunting one.
Mother gasps. There are large bruises along both my sides and all over my chest, not to mention more cuts and scrapes than I can count. Her brows rise toward her hairline. “Did your father—”
“No.” I pat her hands. Even reaching across to her lap makes me wince. I’ll be completely useless in training later. “It’s just training. You know how it is.” I tip my chin, gesturing to all the injured hunters around us.
Mother frowns. “Well, I have something that will help. Hold on.”
She grabs some salve and starts wiping it on my sides.
The bruises are still tender. I’m used to leaving them untreated. I don’t have the time to come here often, not between hunting and training. Father keeps me far too busy. Not to mention, it feels like a betrayal of him to be around her, as much as I want to be.
I question her to distract myself from the ache. “Have any berserkir come in with injuries like the ones I mentioned?”
“One, I think. Isaac. He can be a bit of a troublemaker.” The way she talks about him sounds almost fond. She hesitates, realization sinking in. “You don’t think he could…?”
I lift my shoulder in a shrug, only to wince.
“Hold still.” She bats my side. “Anyway, I don’t know. Isaac can be fresh, sure, but he doesn’t seem violent.”
Neither did Father at first, I want to point out to her, but I don’t want to steer the conversation in that direction. They met here. She saved his life after he was badly injured by a berserkr in the Tragedy. She’s one of the only people to ever see Father vulnerable.
“He’s a berserkr,” I say instead. “All of them are violent.”
As soon as the words escape, I question them.
Edith’s gray eyes flash in my mind. She doesn’t seem that way, not now that I’ve finally realized that she isn’t the killer we’re looking for.
I still remember how gentle and caring she was with her younger sister.
Maybe if I had listened to my gut sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time chasing her.
Mother frowns, looking unconvinced.
Awkward silence hangs in the air while she tends to me.
“That should help,” Mother finally says. “As will this.” She places a small blue bottle in my palm, closing my fingers around it.
“What is it?” I ask.
“An herbal tincture to help you sleep. You need your rest. You’re still a growing boy.”
I raise an eyebrow. She must not want to admit I’ve grown up.
Slowly, I tuck the bottle into my pants pocket. “Thank you.”
Mother reaches out for my hands, taking them in her soft, comforting ones. “You can still come live with us, you know. You’re always welcome.”
I think of Nils. I doubt that’s true, but I won’t remind her of how much he hates me. Either he hasn’t told her, or she refuses to accept it. I’m not sure which it is or if I want to find out.
“I can’t,” I tell her, biting off the words.
My mother may be a skilled healer, but there are some things even she cannot mend.