by S. T. Bende
Evensong stepped under a rose-laced arch, leading us through an elaborately designed garden filled with lavender blooms I’d never seen in Granite Ridge. At the edge of the horticultural quadrant stood two greenhouses, which appeared to hold larger, even more exotic plants.
Whoa.
“The castle itself dates back a thousand years, but it did not function as a school until a few hundred years ago, when King Leon and Queen Helena mandated a formalized education. At that time, they gifted this addition to the facility.” Evensong made a sharp right behind the greenhouses. A newer-looking structure rested just behind the castle wall. Cream-colored walls bordered high windows, and the rear of the building opened up to a neatly manicured field.
“Is this a meditation center?” One of the girls tentatively raised her hand.
“Quite the opposite. This is the Verge training facility,” Evensong explained. “Elves with a propensity for combat are enrolled in our Verge discipline, where they undergo rigorous physical training. Those with the highest marks pursue careers as peacekeeping elves, warriors, and even Protektors.”
Elin nudged my shoulder. “If Signy has her way, we can all just stay here, then.”
“Gods, I hope not.” On Midgard, my aunt had been in charge of our physical conditioning and meditation practice—the latter of which I’d been wretched at. While Larkin had overseen Alfheim lessons, Signy made sure Elin, Britney and I meditated three times a week and worked out every single day—twice, on weekends. Now that I knew the horrors of fire-breathing deer, I was grateful for what I’d privately called Torture Trainings . . . but I still didn’t want it to be my major.
“Back inside the castle now.” Evensong led us past the field and pulled back the curtain of ivy cascading down the castle wall. Behind the green was a door-sized hole in the stones. We passed through the opening in the wall, walked across a courtyard, and re-entered the castle.
Evensong pointed to the tower on her right. “Up there you’ll find the Astronomy wing, where Astrals learn to chart the courses of planets, stars, and of course, dreams. Also in that wing, the Styra gather data and channel energy to influence the course of major events for the greater good of the cosmos.”
Up ahead of me, Britney blinked longingly at the tower. I disguised my snort with a cough. Event manipulator was definitely Bitch-Face’s calling.
“Our scientifically inclined students enroll in our Elementär discipline, where they study everything from biology to physics in that tower.” Evensong raised a manicured hand to her left. Her fingernails bore a translucent sparkle, and it took me a minute to realize the glow came from the glitter itself.
“Look.” I nudged Elin, whose own nails were done in a rainbow of colors. Her eyes widened.
“That is so cool!” she squealed.
“In the north tower,” Evensong continued, “you’ll find our Musa working to perfect their art, music, dance and craftsmanship. Also in the north, Kurera study ancient, modern, and holistic medicinal practices from across the realms, to heal our sick and injured. Our Dyr study animal husbandry in a facility behind the south wall, adjacent to the forest for obvious reasons. And most of the other classrooms are housed on the first two floors of the west wing.”
Evensong clapped her hands together and turned to our group with a smile. “If you don’t have any questions, I’ll take you to your common room, where your resident advisors are waiting to introduce you to your roomma—”
A sudden stab in my upper abdomen brought me to my knees. My hands flew to my stomach and I pressed hard, willing whatever was clawing its way out to stay put. The stabbing intensified, forcing me into the fetal position. The pain was so intense that the courtyard ebbed in and out of focus.
“Aura!” Signy’s cry filled my ears, and Elin’s tropical shampoo wafted past my nose, but I couldn’t open my eyes to look at either of them. I was frozen in agony.
“Oh, my goodness.” Evensong’s voice came closer. “I can call for a Kurera, or—”
“Give us room,” Signy commanded. Footsteps retreated until a small buffer of calm surrounded me. Signy was working her magic. Again.
“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” Signy kept her tone calm.
“My stomach,” I gasped. “It feels like . . . when I was in the meadow. Like it’s . . . it’s being ripped open.”
“It’s the Alfheim Tree.” Signy raised her voice. “Alert the faculty another limb is lost.”
Warm fingers pried my hands away from my body, lifted my shirt above my belly button and gently probed my midsection. “Your stomach appears to be fine, Aura. This is an energetic wound.” Signy’s words were barely more than a whisper. “Whatever you feel intruding on your space, push it out.”
“I don’t think I can.” The words came on a squeak as I succumbed to another wave of pain.
“Try,” Signy urged. “The energy will follow your intention. I’ll help you.”
I drew a deep breath and imagined pushing away whatever was causing the mind-numbing pain. After a slow eternity the stabbing had lessened, and I opened my eyes and gripped Signy’s arm. “What was that?”
“You’re shaking.” Signy’s brow furrowed.
“You’d be shaking too if something clawed its way out of your stomach and . . .” I tugged at my shirt to examine my unruptured skin. How was that even possible? “What’s happening to me?”
Signy wrapped her arms around me and held tight. “I don’t know.”
An amplified voice filled the courtyard, halting our group’s worried whispers.
“Attention, students. The Vanaheim Branch of the Alfheim Tree has fallen. Please return to your dormitories until the Council completes its scan for portals. Empati who experienced a physical reaction to this disconnect must see an advisor for a healing.”
Signy’s emerald eyes darkened with concern. “The Empati were affected. It wasn’t just you.”
“And the Empati are who, again?”
“Our empaths.” Signy pressed her lips together. “They feel things more strongly than the rest of us.”
If this was a typical Empati day, I sure as Helheim hoped I one of those warrior students, instead.
Evensong cleared her throat. Her porcelain face was several shades paler than it had been at the beginning of our tour. “Aura, would you like me to summon a Kurera? We can take you to the healing wing instead of your dorm.”
“I’ll be okay.” I let Signy wrap an arm around my waist and guide me to my feet. As we moved, Elin placed a gentle hand atop my shoulder.
“Tell me if you change your mind.” Evensong waved us forward. “Inside, everyone. Go straight through this entry and make a left at the end of the hall. Hurry, now! If a portal has opened, we don’t want to be exposed.”
We followed Evensong down a long stone corridor. Signy and Elin took turns shooting me concerned looks, but I didn’t know what to tell them. If Signy couldn’t explain what was happening to me, and if dark portals could be opened every time one of those branches fell . . .
This was officially the worst birthday on record.
“Right this way.” Evensong opened a thick, wooden door and ushered our group through. When we were safely inside, she closed the door behind her, fastened its absurd number of locks, and pressed her fingertips to a pad on the wall. “The Keys are secure,” she murmured into the speaker. Then she turned to our group with a tight smile. “That was an eventful welcome tour.”
Elin wrung her hands together. “Are there a lot of lockdowns?”
“They’re very rare.” A new voice spoke up from behind. We turned to the wall by the staircase, where a tall, willowy redhead stood in front of a paper-laden table. “I’m Renwyn, one of your resident advisors. In the four years that I’ve been at Alfheim Academy, we’ve only had three lockdowns, two of which have been this week.”
Evensong shook her head. “The attacks on the realm have caused substantial security concerns. But Headmistress Herliefer is one of the most formidabl
e Verge graduates in the history of the academy, and we have every reason to believe she’ll keep us safe.”
“In the meantime, I have your room assignments and your course schedules.” Renwyn turned to her table and picked up a stack of golden envelopes. “Now is as good a time as any to go upstairs, meet your roommates, and get settled. If the scouts don’t find any portals, the lockdown should be lifted in time for dinner. Protektors who are not residing on campus may say goodbye to your charges. Batni Johanssen, please come forward to receive your welcome packet.”
As Renwyn raised a golden envelope, Signy pulled me in for a light hug.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked.
“It hurts a little less now, I just . . . I hope the branches stop dying.”
I truly did. Both for the sake of the realm, and the sake of my stomach.
Signy pulled back. “Me too.”
“Do you have to go?”
“Oh, sweet girl.” Signy stroked my hair. “First of all, we’re in a lockdown. I can’t leave this room.”
Oh. Right.
“And second, when I go I’ll only be a tower away. Larkin and I have adjacent suites in the Faculty wing.”
“Oh, thank gods.” I threw my arms around Signy and squeezed.
“You two take care of each other.” Larkin nodded at Elin. “Don’t let her get into too much trouble.”
“Like I could stop her.” I rolled my eyes.
Larkin laughed. “True.”
“Elin Eklund.” Renwyn’s clear voice cut through the low murmur of voices. “I have your room assignment.”
“Here goes nothing.” Elin shot me a nervous grin as she strode across the room.
“Aura Nilssen.” Renwyn smiled as I claimed my own envelope. “Welcome to Alfheim Academy.”
“Thanks,” I murmured.
Elin and I hurriedly moved to occupy the two empty chairs by the couch, where Signy and Larkin had struck up a conversation with some other Protektors.
“Are you ready?” I poised my fingers to tear open the envelope.
“Yup. One. Two. Three.”
We ripped our packets open at the same time.
“Oh, thank gods we’re roommates.” I exhaled in relief. “We’re taking third year classes—that must be what they call juniors here?”
“I guess,” Elin shrugged.
“And we have another roommate named . . . Finna?”
“I’m in the Musa program.” Elin ran her rainbow fingernails through her ombré blue-blond hair. “Good. Law school would have sucked.”
I peeked at her assignment. “An artist, huh? Shocking.”
“What’s your specialty?” Elin leaned over to look at my paper.
“I can’t tell.” I shook my head. “They have me down for combat, meditation, and inter-realm relations. But there’s no specialty listed.”
“Maybe they want you to be well rounded?” Elin guessed.
“Maybe.”
Larkin leaned toward us from the couch, a sparkle in her eye. “What did you get?”
“I’m a Musa and Aura’s undeclared. And we’re roommates,” Elin summarized.
“Undeclared.” Signy winked, and I suddenly understood. She’d done this. I didn’t have a specialty because I was a princess, and it was my job to know as much as possible about every discipline.
Great.
Twinkling chimes interrupted us. “Attention students,” trilled an amplified announcement. “The threat has been neutralized, and you may now leave you dormitories.”
A relieved buzz flowed through the room as unfamiliar faces poured out of the main door, while the girls from our tour group filtered up the staircase.
“Well?” Elin gestured toward the stairs.
“Let’s go.” I pocketed my envelope. We said goodbye to Signy and Larkin, and walked up the narrow staircase. At the top we turned right, and headed down a corridor with large, open windows until we reached the fourth doorway.
Elin placed her hand on the knob and took a deep breath. “I guess we live here now.”
“I guess we do.” For better or worse, I was now sixteen, a princess, and an official resident of Alfheim Academy. I took a small amount of comfort in knowing that tomorrow would probably be excruciatingly boring when compared with today.
I hoped.
Elin turned the knob with a nod. “After you.”
Here we go.
Chapter 6
“MOTHER OF FRIGGA.” ELIN gawked as she pushed the door open. “Get a load of this place.”
My jaw dropped as I stepped through the door. A small entry gave way to a massive room, with one side comprised of an oversized mirror, and a door leading to a marble-floored bathroom. Three mahogany sleigh beds were spaced between eight-foot-high windows, each draped in thick, cream-colored fabric and offering views of the forest below. A dresser and wardrobe bordered each bed, and clear crystals dangled from an opulent chandelier, reflecting beams of sunlight around the space. Wall sconces shone softly, illuminating the bedroom in warm, soothing candlelight.
“This is our room?” I squeaked.
“Not too shabby, ja?” A girl with warm, brown skin scooted off the edge of one of the beds. Her jet-black curls were tinted with ruby highlights, and her movements were so seamless, she appeared to float to where Elin and I stood, mouths still agape at the opulent decor. She held out one hand, and the glowing sparkles in her nail polish caught my eye. I was definitely buying Elin a bottle. “You must be the new Keys. I’m Finna Skylark. I’m a third year Elementär, and I’m glad to finally have some company in here.”
I shook Finna’s hand. “I’m Aura Nilssen. And this is Elin Eklund. Our paperwork says we’re taking third year classes, too.”
“This place is way cooler than our school on Midgard,” Elin gushed. I blinked at her, and she shrugged. “Well, it is.”
“You are not nearly freaked out enough by all of this.”
Elin shrugged again. “Freaking out’s not going to change anything.”
Point, Elin.
“You grew up on Midgard? I’ve heard it’s a beautiful realm. I’ve always wanted to visit but the restriction on inter-realm travel prohibited—oh, good!” Finna interrupted herself. “Your cases arrived.”
“I didn’t pack a case,” I said. “Signy magicked everything in our house into one suitcase, then shrunk it down and put it in her pocket. She didn’t sort anything.”
“She must have. Look.” Elin pointed to our beds, where two containers stood.
The tip of my ponytail hit my cheek as I whipped my head around. “Those weren’t there a minute ago. How did the—”
“Portal,” Finna said simply. “The telepaths handle transport. I have no idea how they do it—they don’t teach the rest of us how to move things. Especially not the rock nerds.” At my tilted head she clarified, “Crystals are my specialty.”
“Really?” I raked my bottom lip between my teeth. “So, I guess the queen has you all over this missing Sterkvart?”
“Yes.” Finna pointed at the data pad on her bed. “Our department just got a message. We have a brainstorming meeting tomorrow.”
“Where do you think it is?” Elin asked.
“I have no idea.” Finna frowned. “A crystal that powerful carries a strong energy signature. Even those of us who weren’t Empati could feel it every time we walked by the tree. Whoever’s taken it has either figured out a way to conceal one of the highest resonances in our realm, or they’ve taken it so far away that we can’t sense it anymore.”
“What did it feel like?” I asked.
Finna glanced up at the chandelier. “It was warm. A slow vibration that felt like hope.”
Whoa.
Elin turned to me. “Think you can feel anything?”
“I was hardly Signy’s best meditation student,” I pointed out.
“You were way better than me and Bitch-Face,” Elin countered.
“Who?” Finna asked.
“Britney Blomgren�
��the third Midgard Key,” Elin explained.
“She’s really awful,” I added.
“Ah.” Finna nodded. “So, can you feel anything, Aura?”
I closed my eyes and waited. Nothing happened. Typical.
“Nope.” I opened my eyes. “But I do want to help, so let me know what happens with your meeting and tell me what I can do.”
“Me too,” Elin added.
Finna nodded. “The more help we have, the faster things can get back to normal.”
Whatever normal was, here.
“What department were you assigned to?” Finna asked me.
“So far, I’m undeclared.” I shifted my attention to my trunk and commenced moving t-shirts to drawers.
“What about you, Elin?”
“I’m a Musa. I can’t wait to see the art facilities.” Elin tucked a flannel shirt into her top drawer.
“They’re beautiful.” Finna grinned. “And you’re going to love the stained glass outside our Great Hall. When you’re finished unpacking, get changed and I can take you down there for dinner.”
“Get changed?” Elin flipped the latch on her trunk closed. She slid the case underneath her bed and pulled the hem of her favorite plaid shirt. “Is there a dress code for dinner?”
“There’s a dress code for everything. And an audience with the disciplinary council for failure to comply.” Finna pointed to the mahogany wardrobe next to Elin’s bed. My friend opened it to reveal a tidy row of pleated skirts in khaki or navy, starched white blouses, and blazers.
I bit down on my bottom lip before Elin caught my snicker. She’d never worn khaki anything in her life. Her world was always vibrant with color, as evidenced by her ever-changing nail polish and the blue tips of her white-blonde hair.
“We’re supposed to wear . . . these?” Elin plucked a silk scarf from a hanger. “How am I supposed to create artistic masterpieces wearing . . . gingham?”
“The checks are a little bit Picasso-y,” I tried. “In a, um, geometric kind of way?”
“They pick out our shoes for us, too?” Elin pushed her head into the wardrobe. “Are these nude pumps?”
“The school provides a selection of heeled footwear for those who prefer consistency, but you do get to choose your shoes. The headmistress encourages individuality in moderation. She just doesn’t want ‘outward appearance to interfere with inner transformation.’” Finna used her fingers to make quotes around the last words.
