Chapter 46 | Ravinica
Chapter 46
Ravinica
ARNE LED ME OUT OF Vikingrune Academy through stealthy means. We didn’t exit through the western or southern gates—we went to Mimir Tomes, the store room, and lifted the grate to take the underground tunnels through the mountain.
Arne knew of the tunnels since he was allied with the Lepers Who Leapt.
I was starting to get a greater understanding of Arne’s power at this school. He liaised between a secret society of spurned students, while carrying out his duties in the name of Vikingrune at the same time.
At first blush, he seemed to be an opportunist. Yet only I knew his secret was much more heartfelt: He was protecting his sister by helping the Lepers Who Leapt from getting caught.
That was all I really needed to know. It was an honorable thing to do, one I would never imagine my brother doing for me if the roles were reversed.
Hells, who knows? Maybe I’ll end up becoming a Leper Who Leapt if my powers never show. I could take the the leap into the icy waters and hope a puller like Dieter isn’t fishing out my dead, frozen body on the shore.
At the base of the ladder leading down to the underground labyrinth, the torch I’d left in the sconce months ago was still there. Or it was a new one.
Arne Shaped a couple runes and sparked fire on the torch, lighting it. Then he led us through the tunnel.
The going was slow. I was still in immense pain, hobbling along behind him. He was patient, not hurrying me or trying to get me to move faster. He could notice my grimace and wincing with every step.
Astrid and her friends had certainly bruised some of my bones. My hip hurt on the right side, and it clicked while I walked; my ribs on my left felt closed-in around my heart, like one wrong move would stab through my aorta. A headache was near-constant behind my eyes.
Simply descending the ladder to get on level ground took nearly agonizing minutes, as I had to prepare for each rung in the ladder. Arne stayed at the bottom, arms extended in case I fell, like a patient older sibling.
We shuffled through the quiet tunnel at the same slow pace. My mind kept going back to Magnus, Grim, Dagny, and Randi. “I hope my friends don’t worry too much about me,” I said. “They’ll surely come check on me in Eir Wing, you know.”
“True. As any good friend would.”
“How do you think they’ll react when they don’t find me there, resting like I should be?”
Arne shrugged his bony shoulders. “With any luck, we’ll be back before morning, before they even show up to check on you.”
“Not at the pace I’m going.” I seethed, nearly rolling my ankle with an awkward step.
Arne chuckled. “You’re doing great, little fox. One foot in front of the other—that’s all you need to do.”
His positive affirmations lifted my spirits. I kept my complaining to a minimum as we walked under the damp soil of the tunnel and reached the dryer parts that went uphill and downhill through the mountain.
“I hope the shaman you spoke of can heal some of my wounds. Reset some bones, perhaps.” I grabbed my hip like an old peasant woman, shaking my head. “Tell me more about her, Arne. Take my mind off this incessant march.”
The iceshaper cleared his throat. The torch he held upright flickered in the dark, jagged tunnel, making his bright hair glisten. “Her name is Elayina. She has many names, many titles—shaman, bog seer, witch, healer, prophetess. The woman has been around the Isle longer than either of us has been alive. By a lot.”
I landed on one of the titles, saying, “Why is she called ‘bog seer’?” I supposed I was curious because it was similar to my own “bog-blood” title.
Arne smirked. “I’m sure it has something to do with her living near the swamp.”
I nodded. That checked out.
We made trivial small talk the rest of the way through the tunnels, until we finally reached one of the cave mouths. Arne didn’t need a map to know his way around these corridors, which I took note of.
Outside, morning was beginning to show. It was cloudy in the shadow of the mountain behind us. The walk down the treacherous trail frightened me because of the pain I was in.
Arne held his arm out like a proper chauffeur, and I held onto him to slowly make my way down the rocky slope. “If the guys knew I was doing this in my state, they’d kill me.”
Arne snorted. “Since when do you care what a couple of foolish men think of you? Your life is your own, little fox.”
I glanced at him, not bothering to answer his quip.
Arne seemed in no hurry. Once we reached the bottom of the stony hill, we crept into Helgas Wood until we made our way past the outskirts of Isleton.
I could hear villagers chopping wood, yelling, starting fires—doing the morning chores to keep the small town running. No one saw us shuffle past and make our way into the thicker trees of Delaveer Forest.
Our journey slowed to a snail’s pace in the forest. There were too many gnarled roots and too much pesky undergrowth and thick vegetation for me to go fast in my current state.
It felt good to have nature on my back, the sun starting to bask me in warmth every time I passed under a canopy and caught it along my neck.
We traveled for at least another hour. When I started to get hungry, Arne reached into a small pack he had and pulled out some hard tack for me to chew.
We went further west than I’d ever been, passing by beautiful countryside, meadows, and glades trapped within Delaveer Forest. All around us, the woodlands teemed with life. I spotted a few squirrels, deer, even some monkeys and treetop critters.
Eventually, the forest began to thin out. The dense trees grew some separation, until there was something of a small pathway we could take to continue moving west.
The dirt became darker underfoot, and sludgier. Wrinkling my nose, I smelled the sharp scents of sulfur and peat. The leafy oaks and piney trees gave way to deciduous willows and long-limbed sallows.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Making our way into Niflbog,” Arne said. “Don’t mind the smell.”
Ah. “Bog seer” makes more sense now, like he said it would.
I figured we were drawing close to our destination. Nervous anticipation swept through me.
The Niflbog was a huge moor that stretched as far as I could see. In some places, it gurgled with black bubbles. The path along the marsh went in and out, and at times I lost it as it receded beneath the surface of the peat bog.
Arne splayed his hand out as we walked. I held his arm because he seemed to know where to step. “If you’re wondering where Vikingrune Academy gets its iron and the materials to make its weapons, wonder no more.”
I hadn’t been, but it was an interesting factoid nonetheless. I was too caught up in my own thoughts to listen to him. We’d been traveling for hours, from night to day, and Arne had given me the ability to see much of the Isle I’d never laid eyes on before.
It was a fascinating place, with woodlands giving way to mountains giving way to meadows and swamps. All types of terrain seemed to inhabit this strange island.
Even in the distance, north, I could see huge peaks shadowed in the sky, thrust to the heavens. The mountains up there looked like they dwarfed the one where Vikingrune Academy stood. At their feet, before the base of the range, the Niflbog gave way to a vast grassland. I could only see these things when we stood atop a small knoll in the swamp, for Arne to look out.
He noticed where my gaze had gone. “The Selfsky Plains. Beyond those, the Telvos Mountains. Truly a beautiful sight, isn’t it?”
I smiled and nodded. “It is. I’d love to adventure there some day.”
“Yes. Some day, little fox.” He winked at me and skittered down the knoll. “For now, we’re getting close.”
Trapped underneath a small cliffside, where the bog met the brambles, a small cave awaited us in the middle of the Niflbog moor.
My anticipation turned giddy. I was eager to meet this shaman Arne spoke of.
When we reached the mouth of the cave, I realized it went deeper than it looked from far away.
Arne stopped and gestured me forward with a sweeping arm. “In there. That’s where you’ll find Elayina, little fox.”
My brow jumped. “You’re not going with me?”
He shook his head sternly. “I am not permitted. The witch only speaks with those she chooses to speak with, and certainly never more than one person at a time.” He pointed down at his feet, with inch-deep sludge caking his boots. “Hence, I stay here.”
My furrowed brow deepened. “So she knows I am coming? How else do you know she wants to speak with me?”
“I don’t.”
Panic set off inside me. “You mean this whole trek was on a hunch ?!”
He winked that aggravating smirk at me again. “My gut instinct is rarely wrong, lass. Let’s see what she says, yeah?”
Clamping my dropped jaw, I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and stepped into the mouth of the cave. This chaotic fucking man. For all I knew, he’d been leading me on a wild goose chase.
Then again, I appreciated him taking the time to bring me here. At the very least, I got some much-needed fresh air away from the stuffiness of the academy. It gave me the chance to clear my head.
The cave seemed ancient. I felt a strange sensation when I walked in, darkness taking hold completely as the sun was swallowed up past the mouth of the cave. The craggy walls were alight with strange flora—mushrooms illuminated with dim glows. Little bugs or creatures fluttered around with similar bright wings, like fireflies.
The cave went deep into the hillside it sat under. I walked hesitantly for a few minutes, with only the faint glow of the wall-fungi and fluttering bugs to light my way.
The narrow walkway widened, until I came to a small room that smelled of spices, oils, and herbs. A tree had taken root—thick, burly roots gnarled and twisting around the room, making it hard to walk through. The girth of the tree trunk was thick, and it seemed to stretch up past the top of the ceiling and jut out of the cave into the open air beyond.
Sitting in the middle of the tree, where the bole had been hollowed out, was the oldest looking person I’d ever seen.
Her face was a mass grave of wrinkles, her skin sagging and eyes impossible to see beyond the folds. She was a slight thing, sitting in a posture that made her look like a ball. She wore a black, tattered gown, had woven white hair in plaits down her back that reached the ground. All along her waves of hair were fetishes and ornaments—bones, studs, wooden objects.
Her chin was dropped down to her collar like she was resting.
I hesitantly approached, stopping ten feet away.
“Miss Elayina?” I called out. My rough voice bounced off the walls of the circular, carved room, sending more colorful bugs fluttering, until there was a cloud of them separating us.
The woman’s face slowly lifted. A strange hum escaped her chest. Though I couldn’t see her eyes, I noticed the way the wrinkles folded when she blinked.
“Ah. A visitor.” Her voice was as ancient as she looked—the kind of voice that comes from a life lived too long, or a life lived with constant chain-smoking.
“I was told you, um, only speak with those you choose to speak with,” I said. “I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed your sleep.”
Slowly, a bony hand lifted, just as wrinkled as her face. She flapped it in the air, waving me forward. “Yes, yes, child. Step forward so I might see you. You are a special case, are you not?”
My head lurched, yet I did as she commanded. “Am I?”
“Yes, yes. I can sense it.” She gave me a toothless smile.
I made my way up the gnarled roots she roosted under, wincing in pain, until I was face to face with her.
“Sit,” she ordered. “You are hurt.”
“You can sense that, ma’am?”
“I can see it plain enough on your face, child.”
I took a seat in front of her. The ripe smell of earth, herbs, and smokiness settled over me. It wasn’t a bad smell, necessarily, as much as it was an old one.
Elayina grabbed a bowl from somewhere off to her side. She threw some herbs and pinched off some liquids into the bowl, and began absentmindedly stirring it and crushing it all together while she spoke.
“You are here for many purposes,” she said. “Some you may not even realize yet.”
I cocked my head, wondering if she had a peculiar way of speaking to everyone, or if I truly was a “special case” that she could sense.
The clacking of her mortar and pestle calmed my nerves. It was a sound I was used to from Selby Village, when my mother would make certain meals.
“You are both full-blood and no-blood,” she said.
I still couldn’t see her damned eyes, so I had no idea how she came to that conclusion. Perhaps she could see more than she was letting on.
“A bog-blood, they call me,” I said with a nod. “Half-bred from humans and elves.”
“Is that so? Not such a rare thing in my day. But in this one? Hm.”
She didn’t finish her thought. I had to wonder when “her day” began, because it looked like it could have been a hundred years ago, if not more.
The ancient witch handed me the bowl, motioning me to take it. “Spread that across your wounds. Let it sit for an hour, then wash yourself in the swamp.”
“ Wash myself in the swamp?” I said incredulously. “With all due respect, ma’am, that sounds like an oxymoron.”
She chuckled a raspy sound. “Aye, I suppose it does. Nonetheless, do it. If you want to heal faster, that is.”
I stared down at the sludgy concoction of green and black in the clay bowl. Like a disgusting soup. It looked furry at the top, filled with mold and fungus, and I had to resist retching when I smelled it.
“Thank you, Elayina.” I bowed my head deeply. The roots of the tree were starting to bite into my ass, making sitting cross-legged uncomfortable. “So I suppose . . . that’s it, then?”
“Nonsense, child. As I said, you are here for many reasons.” She sat forward. Once she lifted her gaze to me, I could finally see her dewy white eyes underneath the wrinkled ridge of her brow.
“I feel something inside you, itching to get out,” she said, smiling another toothless smile. “Would you like to get to the crux of why you’re really here?”
I was taken aback. This madwoman didn’t know me whatsoever, yet she assumed I served some greater purpose in coming here?
My first thought: My inherent magic! That’s definitely been itching to get out! And then I thought of the many other secrets I held. There is the family tree discovery I’ve made. The issue of my tainted blood. Everyone hating me. The men I’ve fallen for needing to die to satiate the bloodlust of my family. Perhaps someone this elderly might have some answers to all that?
“Why is it you think I’m really here, Elayina?” I asked. “If not for the healing?”
“Lean forward and I will show you. I am not long for this place. It’s about time someone worthy came searching for answers.”
She spoke in riddles. Somewhat. I couldn’t get a clear understanding of what she was saying, and I had a feeling that wasn’t going to change.
I said, “Very well,” and leaned my head forward, until we were a couple feet apart.
She reached out with her skeletal, leathery palm, inching closer toward my face. “Just know, Ravinica Linmyrr, once the seer’s touch is felt, there is no going back from it. Do you understand?”
No, I certainly didn’t understand.
But I was a brave woman. Stupid, perhaps, but brave.
If she had “answers” for me to questions I hadn’t asked, so be it. I’d bite, whether it was all a farce or not.
“I understand,” I lied.
And then Elayina touched my forehead with her palm, and the world faded around me.