Studying Her Vikings

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Studying Her Vikings Page 2

by Skye MacKinnon


  There was nothing else in the room. No decoration, not even windows. I still didn't know where the Academy was located. All the walls were bare stone, no wallpaper or paint anywhere. It was kind of pretty and atmospheric, but also a little depressing. It didn't feel like a home, not like a place I was going to be comfortable in for the next few years. Not that I had a clue of how long our training would be. When signing up for TTA training, it's a commitment for life. All you know is that your family will be looked after and that you'll never want for anything. That's enough to make most people want to join. The world can be a hard place and TTA offers security that is hard to find in other professions.

  "Hurry up, dinner's getting cold," Sue scolded, waiting outside the door with Maryam. "It's first come, first serve in the dining hall and you don't want to be last, trust me."

  I gave my new room one last glance, then quickly followed our guide. She led us along a corridor that seemed to house more bedrooms like ours, and into a small common room. Plastic chairs were dotted around the area, all of them empty. Everyone else had to be at dinner. A couple of bookshelves lined the walls, one of them topped with a stack of board games. That was it. No television, no computers, not even a fireplace or radiators. TTA surely liked sparse interior design. I would miss my mum's soft sofa with its dozens of cushions and blankets. These plastic chairs looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  "Whenever you're not in lessons, training or studying, you can spend time in the common room," Sue explained hurriedly. "Books have to stay in here. No taking them into bedrooms. You only go into your room to sleep."

  "Why?" Kaycee interrupted. "What if we want some privacy?"

  Sue laughed, not unkindly. "As a level one student, you don't have privacy. It's something you have to earn. Work hard, complete all your assignments as best as you can, and you'll slowly earn more privileges. The faster you learn, the more benefits you'll get."

  Kaycee crossed her arms in front of her chest, obviously not pleased with that reply. She'd probably expected to get special treatment because of her uncle.

  "The bathrooms are at the other end of the corridor we just came from. I'm sure you know how to use a shower?" Sue laughed. "Good, then let's get some food. I'm starving."

  Compared to the other parts of the Academy, the dining hall had a completely different atmosphere. The sound of hundreds of people eating and chatting filled the air, together with the smell of a wild variety of dishes. There were painting and tapestries all over the stone walls, and the high ceiling was covered in what looked like fairy lights. It gave it a homely, friendly feel. For the first time, I thought that I might be able to make this my home.

  Sue led us to a buffet at the very end of the hall.

  "Choose whatever you want, but don't expect there to be enough left for second helpings," she said with a grin. "The good stuff disappears fast when you have two hundred students, teachers and agents all starving. You'll see soon that you're going to eat more here than you're used to. A side effect of your training."

  "Do we have assigned seats?" Maryam asked and I followed her gaze, taking in the square tables filling the hall, each of them with four chairs. They were wooden chairs, looking much more comfortable than the plastic ones in our common room.

  "No, sit wherever you like. Once you get to know people, I'm sure the usual cliques will form. It's part of Academy life." Sue snickered. "Will you find the way back to the common room after dinner?"

  I nodded.

  "Good. I'll see if I can procure some maps of the building. I know there are some, but I couldn't find any earlier today. That will make it easier for you to find your classrooms tomorrow."

  Excitement bubbled up in me. Lessons. I'd learn how to be a time agent. Travel through time, meet people from the past, and save the present in the process. Not that I had any idea of how exactly that was done. But everyone knew that the TTA was responsible for helping us out of the last recession, and cure at least two major diseases. Somehow, they used the past to improve the present.

  Kaycee pushed past me and rushed towards the vegetarian part of the buffet. Maryam followed her, but I was drawn towards the scent of curry and spices. It was a table at the very end of the long row, and most of the bowls and platters were still full. Three large pots of curry, a covered plate of naan bread, a basket filled with poppadoms and, were those pakora? Oh my goodness, I was in heaven. I'd always loved Indian food and now, I could eat as much as I wanted. I took a plate from a stack and heaved as much food on it as it could carry. I certainly wasn't going to starve at the Academy.

  I looked around for a place to sit. Most tables were full or only had one empty place, so it was clear that I wasn't going to be able to sit with Maryam and Kaycee. Sue had disappeared, probably sitting with her friends and colleagues. I hadn't figured out yet if she was a senior student or a member of the Academy staff.

  The closest table was occupied by only one man. His broad back was turned towards me. It seemed as good a place as any to sit. If I wanted to be part of TTA, I would have to get to know people.

  "Is it okay if I join you?" I asked, carefully balancing my overfull plate. It was getting hot at the edges.

  "Go ahead," the man said in a deep voice that carried a slight accent. "That's what chairs are for. To sit on."

  I frowned at his strange manner but sat down and took some cutlery from a holder in the centre of the table.

  I ate several mouthfuls before realising that I hadn't introduced myself or even properly looked at the man. I wasn't usually this impolite, but porting and all the excitement of being in a new place had made me hungry.

  He was staring at me. Not in a friendly, interested way, but in an intense and scrutinising way that made a shiver run down my back.

  "You're hungry," he observed, his gaze never leaving my face. Since he obviously didn't see anything wrong with staring at me like a zoo animal, I returned the favour. He was older than me, maybe in his early thirties. His eyes were the colour of azure waters, the kind of tropical water that I'd only seen on television. They were guarded by thick eyebrows, just as blond as his hair and beard. The beard was well-trimmed with not a single hair out of place; it was obvious that he took great care of keeping it that way. His hair was close to shoulder-length and a lot messier than his beard. Like he hadn't combed it in days.

  "Like what you see?"

  His lips curved into a taunting smile. Not unfriendly, just mocking.

  "I'm not sure yet," I replied with a blank expression. I was good at those. Keeping others in the dark about what I was feeling. "Are you one of the teachers?"

  He nodded. "And you're a newbie. Only newbies sit on my table. By tomorrow, you'll be somewhere else."

  "Why?"

  "Because by then, you'll know who I am," he said mysteriously. "But for now, I'm going to enjoy your company. What's your name?"

  What a strange man. His plate was empty, so he didn't have to stay here. The dining hall was slowly getting quieter as more and more people left. It seemed he really wanted to have a conversation.

  "Lainie. What's yours?"

  "Hjalmar. Most people can't pronounce it properly."

  "Hjalmar," I repeated, trying to make it sound as rough as he'd said it, although I couldn’t copy his accent. "Is that a Scandinavian name?"

  "It's an ancient word," he replied, staring at me intently. "Do you speak any foreign languages?"

  I frowned at his abrupt change of topic. "Some French, but it's a couple of years ago since I last spoke any. I've probably forgotten most of it." I took a bite of naan bread, but made sure to keep my eyes fixed on him. He was playing some kind of game, and I sure was going to match him. I was competitive like that.

  "Your pronunciation was excellent. Were you good at your French lessons?"

  I shrugged. "Not top of the class but I found it quite easy to learn the language. I never had to read over new vocabulary more than once or twice before I could remember the words."

  "Good. That w
ill help you in my class."

  "Your class?" I couldn't help but sound surprised. I'd known he was a teacher, but I hadn't really expected him to be mine. He didn't seem like the kind of teacher you had at the very beginning of your training. Not with the intense way he was looking at me, like he could see into my mind.

  "Have you not checked your timetable yet?"

  I shook my head. "I haven't been given one."

  He chuckled. "Tomorrow at ten in the morning. Although by then, you've probably heard the rumours, now that people have seen you sit at my table. Don't let that influence you from learning as much as you can in my class."

  His eyes had turned a little sad. It sounded like people usually avoided him. It couldn't just be because of his strange manner. Well, if he was right, I was going to find out soon.

  I turned around and looked at the people at the neighbouring tables. Some of them were openly staring at me. Or at Hjalmar, it was hard to tell. Had I managed to get myself a reputation just by sitting at his table? What a way to start.

  "Ten a.m. Don't be late."

  He got up, his chair screeching over the stone floor. He left without another glance, but dozens of stares followed him.

  ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 3

  Morning came far too soon. A loud bell echoed through the room, followed by groans from Kaycee. I yawned and pulled my duvet over my head. She'd snored all night and I hadn't got nearly as much sleep as I wanted. Or needed.

  "What time is it?" I asked no one in particular. I hadn't brought a watch with me, and there wasn't a clock in the room. Without the terrible bell, we would have slept in.

  "Feels like midnight," Kaycee grumbled. "Do you think they let us sleep in at weekends?"

  I sighed. "There's training at weekends. Didn't you look at your timetable?"

  When we'd returned to our room last night, both a map and a timetable had been waiting for us on our beds, together with silky pyjamas and a set of toiletries. The wardrobes had also been stocked with white TTA uniforms as well as some casual clothes.

  No idea how they'd got our sizes right. Or had we given them our clothes size on the application form? I couldn't remember, it had been months ago that I applied for TTA. Being here still felt like a bit of a dream.

  The bell rang for a second time. I wanted to cuddle up under my blanket, ignoring the early morning, but this was my first day and I didn't want to start it by being late.

  With a deep sigh, I threw back my duvet and climbed out of bed. Kaycee's only reaction was to push her pillow onto her head. I smiled. Guess we both weren't morning people. At least one thing we had in common.

  I opened my wardrobe and took in what was on offer. Were we expected to wear the white uniform? Or was that just for assignments? I wished they'd given us some more information on what we were supposed to do. It was all a bit confusing and I didn't want to make a mistake right at the start. There were rumours that it was easy to get expelled from the Academy, and that was one thing I couldn't afford to happen.

  I decided to play it safe and put on a uniform. The white fabric clung to my skin, exposing every curve that I would have liked to hide. The collar rubbed uncomfortably against my neck, but hopefully, that would get better after wearing it for a while.

  "You better get up," I warned Kaycee as the bell chimed for the third time. "I bet it will be the same thing with breakfast as it is with dinner. First come, first serve."

  That made her look up from behind her pillow.

  "Do you think there'll be pancakes?"

  I shrugged. "Who knows, but there's only one way to find out."

  Kaycee sighed and sat up. Her fiery hair was flat against her head, perfectly straight as if she'd never slept on it at all. No, I wasn't jealous. Not at all.

  I looked at my timetable again while Kaycee got ready. The first lesson started at nine, then hourly lessons until noon. One hour for lunch, then all afternoon was reserved for training. Whatever that meant. After dinner, there were two hours of shared revision, then two more hours common room time. I hoped they would let us go to bed before those two hours were up. I couldn't imagine staying in that bland, dull room for that long.

  "Let's go," Kaycee said, flinging her hair back in one smooth motion. "I don't want to be late."

  I rolled my eyes but followed her without comment.

  The dining hall was full of tired looking students. This time, there were almost no teachers and agents. Were they allowed to sleep for longer? I certainly hoped so, that would give me something to look forward to.

  I sleepwalked to the buffet and filled a bowl with cornflakes and milk. There was a big selection of hot food, but I didn't like to eat too much in the morning. My stomach felt like it was still asleep.

  This time, I found an empty table. A large pot of tea and one that looked like coffee were in the centre of the table, along with a stack of mugs. I poured myself some tea. There was no milk, but I was too tired to stand up and get some from the buffet.

  I hated mornings.

  Two girls joined me along with Maryam. She looked completely awake, smiling at me with a sparkle in her eyes.

  "Good morning, she said with a wide grin. "Are you ready for the first lesson?"

  I nodded, focusing on my cornflakes.

  "Not a morning person?"

  I shook my head and she chuckled. "My dad always said, you simply have to imagine that it isn't morning, but the middle of the day. That drives the tiredness away."

  I looked at her sceptically. "I don't think that's going to work."

  Maryam shrugged. "I don't think so either, but it's what he said." She turned to the black-haired girl on her right. "Have you met Stacey yet? She's new too."

  I introduced myself and Stacey gave me a small smile. She seemed shy, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes.

  "You talked to Hjalmar last night," the other girl said without telling us her name. She had beautiful amber eyes surrounded by dark lashes, but the scowl on her face made her seem less pretty.

  "Yes, I did," I said calmly. After dinner, I'd gone straight to bed, so I'd not heard any of the rumours the teacher had warned me about. Now, I was curious but also a little apprehensive. I didn't like gossip and knew it was taken with not just a pinch, but an entire spoonful of salt.

  "What did he say?" the girl asked, greed shining in her eyes.

  I took my time swallowing a spoonful of cornflakes before I replied. "Nothing special. Just that he was a teacher. Why? What's so special about him?"

  The girl stared at me. "You don't know?"

  "Even I've already heard about him," Stacey muttered. "One of the girls in my dormitory warned me about him."

  "Warned?" I asked, suddenly a little worried. "Why?"

  The other girl grinned as if she was looking forward to my reaction. I made sure my expression was blank, unwilling to give her the satisfaction.

  "He killed a student," she whispered dramatically. "He took him into the past and killed him there."

  "Killed him?" Maryam gasped. "Why would he do that?"

  "And how would anyone know?" I asked. "Did anyone see it? I thought time agents travelled solo."

  Amber-eyes snickered. "When he returned, he was covered in blood. He was suspended for a year, but now he's back. I have no idea why the headmistress would allow him to teach, but luckily, he's restricted to teaching newbies." She grinned at me. "Beware, he's unpredictable. If I were you, I'd avoid him like the murderer he is."

  With that, she got up, dramatically stalking away, her hips swaying.

  "Weird," Maryam exhaled. "I doubt they'd let a murderer teach us."

  "She didn't tell you everything," Stacey whispered. "Julie said that he'd brought back the student's severed hand."

  I exchanged a dubious glance with Maryam. It was good to see that I wasn't the only one not instantly believing this gossip.

  "We have a lesson with him at ten," I said, feeling a little defiant. "Maybe he'll mention it then."

  Stacey's eyes widen
ed and she quickly pulled out her timetable from her bag. She sighed in relief. "I don't have him as a teacher. Seems he only does the fast-track class."

  A loud gong interrupted our conversation. It was a nicer bell than the alarm ring this morning, but it made my stomach go a little queasy. Now, Academy life was going to start for real.

  INSTEAD OF THE HISTORY lesson we were supposed to have, the headmistress awaited us in our classroom together with four other teachers in the Academy uniform. I was glad now that I had put it on this morning. About a quarter of students were wearing casual clothes, making them stand out in the sea of white. To be honest, a white uniform didn't seem very practical. I hoped we wouldn't have to do our own laundry. It would be a never-ending stain fight.

  "I'm Professor Tape," the headmistress introduced herself. I'd seen her at dinner last night when one of the other students had pointed her out, but this was the first time I'd heard her speak. Her voice was melodic, almost musical, somehow reminding me of the man who'd welcomed us the night before. Maybe they were related? Or was it part of the job of running TTA to have a pretty voice?

  Professor Tape was an older Asian woman in her sixties, her grey hair sprinkled with white highlights. Her face was smooth except for a few soft wrinkles around her eyes. She was the only teacher not in a white uniform. Hers was black as the night, the only colour some golden stitching around the collar and the sleeves. It was a contrast that immediately made her stand out.

  She was small, the smallest of the five people at the front of the classroom, but that didn't diminish her air of authority. She waited until everyone had taken a seat - except for a few stragglers who had to stand at the back because this classroom really wasn't made for this many people - then turned around and scribbled on the blackboard. It was old-fashioned for a school that was all about teaching us the technology needed to travel in time. We'd had nothing but digital whiteboards back at my high school, and even those were a little out of date.

 

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