The Valkyrie's Bond (Halfblood Rising Book 1)

by Lucy Roy

  “Yes, make it clear that you are not to be fucked with,” Lea added sagely.

  Freya nearly laughed at the way the curse sounded coming from the pretty girl’s lips.

  “But you just told me to observe more than interact,” she pointed out, picking up her silverware and cutting into the roasted chicken Laz had just given her.

  “Socially and in classes,” Lea clarified. “I don’t quite know what your social skills are like—”

  “Lea!” Lazarus hissed.

  “Well I don’t!” Rolling her eyes, Lea looked at Freya. “You lived in the capital each summer, correct?”

  Freya nodded. “Until I was thirteen, yes. Winter Solstice, too.”

  “Considering your parentage and the length of time you lived in the capital as a child,” Lea continued, “I would assume you have some fairly-honed social graces and are highly intelligent. Therefore, you’ll have a fair number of males attempting to court you.”

  All true, Freya thought, but her “fairly-honed social graces” told her not to confirm that.

  “Well, I suppose we’ll see how things go,” Freya said. “I’m certainly not here to be courted.”

  Collin nodded slowly. “I’d suggest getting that information out there as soon as possible.”

  “Somehow I don’t think that will be an issue,” she muttered.

  Chapter 5

  Freya woke with the sun the following morning. Her belongings had been waiting in her room when they returned the night before, so she pulled on sturdy black leggings, a pale blue, long-sleeved shirt, and her black ankle boots before slipping out of her dormitory and onto the quiet campus. She inhaled deeply when she stepped outside, savoring the scent of dawn—the sugary dew that sweetened the grass currently being devoured by small, winged sprites, the morning glory that climbed the front walls of her dorm taking root in the space between stones, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, the not unpleasant earthy smell of a pond.

  Turning in the direction where the scent of water was strongest, she found a narrow, overgrown path leading into the still-darkened woods, untouched by the morning sun. Water dripped from leaves in the tall oaks, the remnants of last night’s rain.

  Keeping to the center of the path to avoid slipping into any quagmire that might hide beneath the underbrush, Freya followed the packed earth for several minutes before the path widened, opening onto a beige, sandy beach on the edge of a quiet lake. Crystal water lapped at the shore, with a sharp drop-off visible about ten feet out. Beyond that, Freya could just make out the mouths of dawnfish peeking through the surface, occasionally nabbing skitterbugs that dashed across the water. To either side, starting where the beach met the tangled brush along the bank, were lily pads the size of wagon wheels. Here and there, a bellowing toad occupied one, while small birds took advantage of the quiet morning to suck nectar from the large blooms that floated about.

  It had only been a few moments, but Freya already knew this would be her favorite place on campus.

  On a sigh, Freya took a seat on the sand, which was still cool from the night air. The campus was hardly a few hundred yards away, but the silence permeating the air around her made her feel as though she’d just stepped into her own bubble of solitude.

  Leaning back on her hands and ignoring the chill that seeped through her pants, she looked out across the lake, watching as the sky grew brighter, shifting from lavender to rose, then to blue.

  She’d just contemplated letting her wings out to warm in the morning sun when she heard a rustling behind her. Turning, she smiled when she saw Laz walking toward her.

  “You found my spot!” she called. “That’s unfair!”

  He grinned and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Freya, but Collin and I claimed this the day we arrived.”

  Freya gave him a considering look. “We could duel for it. What do you say?”

  Laz sat down next to her, legs bent, resting his forearms on his knees.

  “I’d say you’d defeat me in all of thirty seconds, so perhaps we can settle on sharing time?”

  Freya pretended to wrestle with the idea for a moment, then nodded. “I suppose that’s acceptable. Where is Collin, anyway?”

  “He’ll be along shortly,” Laz said, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his hands. “Had I known you’d be here, I would’ve had him bring some tea for you.”

  She smiled, amused. “You take tea on the shore of a hidden lake often?”

  He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “Every morning.”

  “And Lea?”

  “Hardly an early riser,” he said, turning at the sound of footsteps. “Collin! Look who’s found us out!”

  Collin handed a steaming cup of tea to Laz before taking a sip of his own and sitting down beside him. “I apologize, Freya—”

  “Not to worry,” she said, smiling as she stood. “I’ve got to get ready for my visit with the headmistress.”

  “I can take you over if you need a guide,” Lazarus offered. “When do you have to be there?”

  Gauging the placement of the sun, Freya frowned. “About two hours.”

  “I’ll meet you in front of your building in an hour,” he told her. “I need to speak with her about my schedule as well, but I can show you around a bit first, if you’d like.”

  “That sounds great, Laz, thank you,” Freya said. With a final wave to Collin, she headed back down the path through the woods.

  Exactly one hour later, Freya stepped out of her dormitory. She’d taken the time to make herself fully presentable, bathing and then brushing her long hair until it shone before pinning it back at her temples. The tunic she’d donned earlier was tucked into the waistband of her fitted leather pants, accentuating the slight curve of her hips.

  “You clean up quite nicely, Freya,” Lazarus said as he walked toward her. He chuckled when she frowned. “You looked more than a little road-weary last night. I’m surprised Balthana didn’t tell you.”

  Freya’s lip curled in annoyance. “I’m not. He’s a menace, I swear.”

  He laughed. “Don’t let him hear you say that.” He inclined his head toward the path that led away from the housing area. “Shall we?”

  She nodded. “Lead the way, sir.”

  As they walked, Lazarus pointed out the different areas of campus, giving her a somewhat abbreviated tour. Aside from the dining hall and main building that housed all classrooms, there were training and archery yards used for combat class, a library, and no less than a dozen flowering courtyards that Freya imagined made wonderful places to enjoy Iladel’s warmer weather.

  The headmistress’ office was inside the academy’s main building, a stone structure that stood five-stories tall with a clock tower jutting another three beyond that. It looked like a smaller, less opulent version of the royal palace.

  “It’s beautiful,” Freya observed as they walked up the stairs that encircled a raised rose garden.

  “Wait until you see the interior,” Lazarus said, grinning down at her. He pulled open the door, carved with ancient runes of welcome and protection, and stepped aside, gesturing for Freya to pass.

  When she entered the cavernous entry hall, she barely restrained her gasp of delight.

  Stained glass windows of vines and flowers in reds and golds cast warm light over the entire space, softening its imposing feel. High, arched halls extended off the lobby on either side, and from her spot, Freya could just make out the spindles of railings along the second-floor walkways.

  Columns wide as door frames rose to an arched ceiling painted with detailed frescoes of old Lindish tales, forming a rotunda around a giant central fountain. The stories of her kind—shifters, witches, and warlocks from eons past—were detailed in sharp relief, the carved wood painted in vibrant colors. It began in the center with the fiery burst of color depicting the Great Beginning, when the Mother Goddess and Freya’s namesake had created their world. In the next section, the Mother’s fire, according to their lore, spread across the heavens creating
land and life in its wake. From there, the sculpted squares continued to spiral outward, showing the rise and fall of their people, from the time when the Linds and the Jotnar lived as one to the arrival of the humans on their shores. The kings and queens who’d reigned in the time prior to the ceiling’s creation were interspersed among the other images, the depiction of some showing more reverence than others.

  The final section showed Linds of all shapes and sizes marching through the doors to the halls of the gods, an afterworld of peace and contentment that all creatures hoped to achieve in death.

  The wonder of it was like nothing she’d ever experienced. The thought of the amount of life and quite possibly death that had gone into its creation had Freya’s head swimming. Beauty and sacrifice—that was what she saw there.

  “There’s your tale, just over there,” Laz said, pointing.

  Shifting her eyes to where he was pointing, Freya saw two squares—one showing the creation of the first shifters and witches, and the next showing the birth of the Valkyrie, female warriors who were vicious when set loose on a battlefield. The lines of both species had been watered down over the millennia as both races began to intermix. Magic, fluid as it was, shifted and evolved over time as shifter and magic-wielder mixed their blood. While true halfbloods—wielders of full powers from both races—were rare, all Linds possessed magic. Even shifters held a small spark that they were able to wield if necessary, although it paled in comparison to that of a true witch or warlock.

  Dragging her eyes downward, she spied a small flock of golden doves hovering halfway between the ceiling and the glassy surface of a fountain, held in mid-air by some sort of earth magic.

  “It’s something, isn’t it?” Laz whispered.

  Freya nodded, still awestruck by the beauty that had been hidden just out of view from the outside. “That’s certainly a word for it.”

  He inclined his head toward a set of double-doors to their right. “The Headmistress’ office is just through there. I told Collin we’d meet him for lunch,” he said as they walked the short distance through the doors and into the outer office. “He’s going to grab Lea. Is that alright?”

  Freya tapped her finger on her lips and frowned. “Hmm. That depends. Do you think they’ll have that carrot soup again?”

  He grinned. “Heavenly, isn’t it? You’ll have to ask Cook. She’s a magician, for certain, but each day’s menu depends wholly on her whims.”

  “I may have to get to know this Cook, weasel some recipes from her.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that!”

  Freya followed him into the headmistress’ outer office, where a pale-featured statuesque female sat behind a desk writing rapidly in some sort of ledger. Stacks of papers sat precariously on the edge beside a handful of pots holding various colors of ink. She continued to scrawl in her ledger for a few seconds before she realized they were there, then lifted her thick, brown eyebrows in greeting.

  “May I help you?”

  “I’m here to see the Headmistress. I’m—”

  Before she could finish, the door behind her opened and a short woman with blue-flecked brown hair and kind eyes stepped out.

  “Ah, our missing student! Yes, I’ve been awaiting your arrival.” The short woman nodded at Laz. “Lord Cailen, I’ll be with you shortly.”

  “Of course, ma’am,” he replied somewhat bashfully. He squeezed Freya’s shoulder and whispered “Good luck” before taking a seat on a long bench beneath the window across the hall.

  Headmistress Dyren ushered Freya into her office, closing the heavy door behind them once inside.

  “So, how are things so far?” the headmistress began once she’d seated herself behind a large, L-shaped desk that was nearly as cluttered as her assistant’s. “Do you like your room?”

  “It’s quite lovely,” Freya replied carefully as she took a seat across from her. “Not home, but I think I’ll get used to it.”

  “That’s quite wonderful to hear.” Dyren smiled, then slid a piece of parchment across the desk. “Now, here’s your schedule, dear. I wanted to go over it with you before classes begin tomorrow.”

  Freya picked up the thick parchment and scanned the list of courses. History, Civics, Toxins, Literature, and Combat. Freya’s mind began to whirl at the last one, eager to begin working with trainers who weren’t her father, her aunt, or the marshals.

  “Do you have any questions? Concerns? I’ve looked over your records from secondary school, and your marks were all quite impressive. We’ve given you a regular first-year schedule, but that can be adjusted if need be.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” Freya told her.

  Pursing her lips, Dyren drummed her fingers on the blotter that took up a large chunk of her desk. “I have to ask, are you planning on telling others who you are right away?”

  Freya sat back in the chair and frowned. “I’d hoped to hold onto my anonymity for a few days, just until I get a stronger feel for this place. I don’t plan to wait long, though, nor do I think I’ll be able to.”

  “Everyone in your hometown knew, then?”

  “A few of the marshals knew whose daughter I was, but to other locals, I was just another Valkyrie. Outsiders didn’t know, though.” Freya eyed her curiously. “Why do you ask? I know being a halfblood might make people respond to me differently—”

  She grimaced. “It’s not so much your species that would concern me; it’s your heritage. Parentage like yours carries a good deal of weight when it comes to mating and career prospects. Considering the heavy focus many females here tend to have on finding a mate when they arrive, that could cause some issues socially.”

  “Headmistress, I know my parents—”

  “Your father was the leader of the Allanorian Army for nearly a century and had more victories than any soldier to come before him. The logical assumption is that his daughter would’ve inherited the same skills that allowed him to achieve his successes. One would also assume that he trained you as well.” Dyren paused, a bit breathless. “And your mother—well, the Cantor line is an envied one.”

  “She was a witch who passed me her power, pure and simple.” Freya shook her head. “I haven’t come here to find a mate. I’ve come to hone my skills and because my mother and father insisted on it the day I received my invitation from the king.” She sat back in her seat, more than a little annoyed. “I can’t help it if the other females crumble under the weight of their own insecurities.”

  “It is an unfortunate fact of life here,” the headmistress said with a sigh. “The idea of landing a halfblood with your lineage as a mate would be most appealing, considering you could pass on either half of your talents to offspring. I think you’re smart to withhold information at first. You’ll know when the time is right to reveal yourself.” She pursed her lips before continuing. “I’ve known your father for some time, Freya. He’s told me a good deal about you.”

  Freya arched a brow. “And?”

  “Things are going to be different for you here,” Dyren replied, her tone shifting toward stern. “Far from how they were in Watoria. You had a lot of freedom there, the ability to come and go as you pleased. That won’t be the case here. You also won’t be flitting about Iladel hunting creatures of the night with the marshals.”

  “Are you telling me I can’t leave campus?” Freya asked incredulously.

  “I’m telling you that when you do, you will be accompanied by at least one guard.”

  “Is this my father’s doing?” Freya demanded. “I can assure you, Headmistress, I have no need for a bodyguard.”

  “As confident as he and I are in your skills, we are in agreement on this.”

  Freya rested her elbow on the arm of her chair and rubbed her hand across her forehead. She was quiet for a few moments as she took in the Headmistress’ words. Finally, she let her hand drop and she sent the Dyren a steady look.

  “Might I ask how you plan to enforce this? I have wings, Headmistress. Ca
n your guards say the same?”

  A satisfied smile played on the Headmistress’ lips. “I plan to enforce it by appealing to your sense of self-preservation. Abiding by these rules will save you the frustration of dealing with those above me who’ve made or support this decision.”

  Freya huffed out an annoyed breath. She knew it was unlikely this had been the headmistress’ idea and that it would be unfair to take out her frustrations on her, but as she was the only one here, Freya struggled to keep her annoyance contained.

  “Alright,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “I won’t argue when your guard accompanies me off campus.”

  The headmistress gave an appreciative nod. “That’s all I ask. Now, do you have any questions for me?”

  Freya shook her head. “No, I think I’m alright.”

  “Lovely. Please let me know if there’s anything else you’ll need while you’re here.” Dyren rose from her desk to show Freya out. “And of course I’m always here if you need to chat. Do you need directions anywhere?”

  “No, I’ll just wait for Lazarus to finish up,” Freya replied, standing and slipping her bag over her shoulder.

  “Ah.” Dyren gave knowing smile. “Yes, if you’ve fallen in with that group, you’re in quite good hands, I can assure you. Lazarus and Collin have their hands in almost every social circle there is, and Grevillea is, well…” Smiling, she clicked her tongue and shook her head. “She’s Lea.”

  “Well, they all seem quite nice.”

  “It sounds like you’re well on your way to finding a home here,” the Headmistress replied as she stepped from behind the desk to see Freya out. When they reached the door, she held out her hand. “It’s good to meet you, Freya, truly.”

  With a small nod, Freya shook her hand.

  Chapter 6

  Freya waited, ignoring the looks the female behind the desk kept indiscreetly sending her way while Lazarus had his appointment with Dyren. Her stares only served to reinforce Freya’s choice to keep to herself for the time being, avoiding the shadow of her mother’s magic and her father’s military achievements.