NORDSTROM NECROMANCER

NORDSTROM NECROMANCER BOOK ONE

 
AMY B. NIXON
Copyright © 2020 Amy B. Nixon
Cover Art by Ammonia Book Covers
Edits and formatting by Luna Imprints
 

All rights reserved.

This book is registered with Copyright House. No part of this book may be
reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by
any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise,
without the prior written permission of the author, with the exception of
short snippets used in book reviews and similar literary critique pieces.
 
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 Synopsis:
My life used to be the embodiment of a heartbreaking pop song. Then it
became something only a psychopath on mushrooms could have written.
Twenty year old Learyn Dustrikke’s life takes a turn for the worst when
she learns that she’s descending from a long line of Scandinavian
necromancers – sorcerers born with a rare type of magic that dilutes the
borders of life and the afterlife.
And Learyn’s own existence has become threatened by a greater power
than the one capable of raising the dead from their grave.
The only way out seems simple enough. Give up her mundane life and
relocate from San Francisco to Norway under the protection of the ominous
Nordstrom Island. What she doesn’t expect, however, is to find herself in
bigger trouble than ever before.
Packed with questions, armed with magic she can’t control and
surrounded by a foreign world she can’t understand, Learyn is a ticking
time bomb with an extremely short fuse that always explodes in the worst
possible moments.
Journey with Learyn to the fascinating lands of sublime fjords, radiant
northern lights, ancient Norse mythology and sinister creatures in this New
Adult Dark Fantasy series as our heroine learns that black magic isn’t
something to mess around with.
 Table of Contents

Title Page
Copyright
Synopsis
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
 

“Why can’t it be dead unicorns?” I asked woefully. “Or dead… well,

anything really? Does it have to be a fucking Nøkken?”
I loathed every single Nøkken.
Those mermaid bitches almost led to my untimely demise. If it were up
to me, their dead relative would have stayed fucking dead for all of eternity.
Sadly, as I drew defensive runes on the rocky ground beneath me, I
knew there was no way around this. We were about to summon a monstrous
spirit from the depths of the Norwegian Sea. Regardless of my lack of
desire for meeting with said spirit, it had to be done.
But it didn’t mean I was going down willingly.
“Okay, then how about a dead reindeer? Wanna go to Finland and
resurrect one of Rudolph’s cousins?”
“Just do it, Swallow!” Aurora hissed in my direction.
If looks could kill, my glare would have scorched Aurora to her very
core and spread the cinders of her essence as far away from the
Scandinavian Peninsula as possible. Preferably all the way to another
planet, but hey, I wasn’t the greedy type.
“Fine!” I gritted my teeth and took a deep, slow breath, turning my face
towards the water surface. “And stop using that stupid nickname!”
I could have uttered the word please if I wasn’t speaking to Aurora. But
let’s face it, the only female creature in all Nine Realms that was worse than
a Nøkken was this blonde bimbo. Taking another breath, I pushed Aurora’s
presence out of my head and made my way towards the serrated edge where
the water touched the stumpy cliffs.
It seemed as if the sea could feel the ensnaring bind of necromancy
coming off us. All of its waves had calmed down shortly after we started
drawing the symbols. Now it stood unnaturally tranquil and otherworldly,
completely still with bated breath, foreboding the horrors that were yet to
come.
 

Learyn Dustrikke
A month before my twenty-first birthday, my life switched from the
embodiment of a heartbreaking pop song to something only a psychopath
on mushrooms could have composed.
I used to have a promising future as a soon-to-be software developer in
San Francisco, where I was born and later raised by my aunt, Adaline Dust.
My parents died in a plane crash when I was twelve. My uncle followed
when I was seventeen. As far as I knew, everyone else in my family was
also dead.
Then my idea of dead changed forever.
It happened on a cloudy November night when my sleep was cut short
by loud screams. Stumbling over to my aunt’s bedroom, I found her tossing
under the covers. She was crying out a series of weird, inarticulate sounds,
almost like syllables in a foreign language.
“Aunty?” I said, shaking her shoulders. “Aunty, wake up!”
She rose to a sitting position with one final yell, and stared at me with
the same shade of olive green eyes I had inherited from her brother.
“Learyn!”
Panting, she grabbed my wrists in an uncomfortably tight way.
“You were having a nightmare. Who’s Learyn?”
Her hands dropped. She inhaled through her nose, pursing her lips in a
thin line.
“You are Learyn. Your real name is Learyn Dustrikke.”
What the hell? My name was Leah Dust, not Learyn Dustrikke.
“Aunty, I think you’ve had a seriously fucked up dream.”
 “No, dear.” She exhaled with a heavy sigh, slouching forward. “Your
birth name is Learyn Dustrikke. We forged the birth certificate and
Americanized your name to Leah Dust in order to hide your true lineage.
You descend from a line of Norwegian necromancers.”
“A line of what-now?”
I frowned as my mind made associations with those creepy creatures
from Dungeons & Dragons. The ones who summoned ghosts and raised
dead people.
“Necromancers, dear. Much to my dismay, they are the only ones who
can help you now. I don’t have time to explain, but it’s imperative that you
leave tonight. I can’t protect you if you remain here.”
Instead of giving me explanations, my aunt only gave me a pile of
mind-blowing shit.
She told me my Norwegian family had moved to the US right after I
was born. They had put a spell on baby-me, which suppressed my magical
abilities. This way I would never know of the existence of anything
supernatural, so I could have a safe life, raised like a mortal human being.
But despite their plan, I was now in grave danger – according to my aunt.
I should point out the fact that I had just about had it with everyone’s
bullshit.
My miserable history with my ex-boyfriends had gotten the best of me.
My friends had labeled me as overly dramatic, too depressing to be around
and not capable of holding it together. Long story short, I had become a
tangled knot of uncontrollable anger, dull pain and burning embarrassment.
So, naturally, when my aunt made all these revelations, I went from
pure confusion to Bitch Mode: Activated in no time.
“This is fucking insane!” I screamed, jumping off her bed. “If we were
really necromancers, my parents wouldn’t be dead! Neither would my
uncle!”
“Learyn, please, I don’t have time to explain. You must leave for
Norway at once. I’ll follow you as soon as I can, but we can’t waste more
time tonight.”
Hearing her use that name enraged me to a whole new level.
I blurted out a considerable amount of profanities and wandered around
our house like an insane person for an hour. Then, I finally agreed with her.
Drawing the line on my current situation and moving to Norway was a good
way to start over. I would be away from every single factor that had turned
me into a ticking time bomb.
“So, what? I just take the first flight to whatever their capital is?”
“Their capital is Oslo, but you won’t be going to the city. The only
place you’ll be safe is Nordstrøm Island.”
My head exploded with a whole bunch of questions.
Did magic really exist? Would I need a special Visa to go to Norway?
What about the language? Did they speak English on that island? How cold
was Norway? It was close to the North Pole, right? And why didn’t she
want to tell me the real reason for sending me to the North Pole?
“Read this,” my aunt put an abrupt end to my mental word vomit by
handing me a sheet of paper.
I could tell her hands had been shaking because her writing was
illegible. Moreover, it was in another language. There was a crossed O
letter, along with some strange syllables.
“Quickly, dear!”
“N-nord… Nordst… Nordstroum… j-jeg? Or is it pronounced jig?”
“It’s Nur-sh-tryom, ya-y… We don’t have time for this. Focus on the
paper and repeat nine times after me: Northern Stream, I welcome thee.”
On the ninth time I said it, the door behind me slammed shut onto its
frame with a sharp and crisp bang. I jumped, dropping the paper. The
windows were closed; there was no way for an air current capable of
something like this to rush into our house. As I kept looking around for the
sudden draft’s source, the photographs hung on the nearest wall swung side
to side.
“The fu–”
Before I could curse at these unnatural occurrences, a shadow
materialized out of nowhere, swirling in the air between me and the
opposite wall. Dense black smoke, spinning vigorously, with glistening
knots of neon greens and bright emeralds. Mesmerized and immobilized, I
watched it divide into two equals. They increased in size, quickly forming
the likes of two humanoid figures.
And just like that, two unfamiliar men in plain black suits were standing
in my living room. My jaw fell. Shit! Magic was real!
“Learyn Dustrikke.”
They spoke simultaneously, but I couldn’t understand a single word of
the ones that followed next. Awesome! Even the foreign David Blane
wannabes, who had magically broken into the house, knew my real name,
when I didn’t!
Irritation and confusion spun through me. I watched them wave, stick
and sweep their fingers through the air, still speaking in a strange language.
Were they doing magic? I didn’t see any flickering lights, unexplainable
blows of air, more magical shadows…
Without warning, a deafening snap pierced my ears, making me cringe
in pain. A feverishly hot wave poured over me, pulsating through my body,
followed by an icy cold one, twice as intense as its predecessor had been. I
staggered towards the couch, and fell on the floor. Slowly, the shivers died
down, leaving me with a sensation that my limbs were made out of jelly. On
the bright side, my ears were no longer affected by that horrendous sound.
Sucking in deep breaths in an attempt to steady myself, I lowered my
gaze to the sheet of paper. Focusing on it and applying the breathing
techniques I had learned from my Pilates classes, I realized I was able to
comprehend the words. And it wasn’t due to my aunt’s earlier translation. I
was actually able to read and understand them.
“Did…” I stuttered in total bewilderment. “Did you put some spell on
me to transform me into a polyglot?”
“They also removed the spell suppressing your magic.” My aunt’s voice
sounded relieved of its previous nervous vibes. I lifted my head to see her
resting on my uncle’s old recliner, eyes closed, fingers massaging her
temples. “Everything will be okay, dear, everything will be okay. They will
protect you.”
The disorientating, deafening and startling sensations had all gone away,
and it seemed like she was talking to herself rather than to me.
“But now I can read and speak Norwegian?”
“Bokmål and Nynorsk, as well as Old Norse.” All of a sudden, she was
back on her feet and helping me off the ground. “You must promise me you
won’t try to leave the island under any circumstances!”
“Geez, I haven’t even gotten there!”
“It will be different from any other place you’ve been to, and I won’t be
there to help you–”
“I’ll manage!” I snapped back, cutting her off, and pulled away.
Over the course of the past hour I had lost my trust in the only relative I
still had. Now her touch seemed not only foreign, but deceitful.
 She didn’t seem anxious or nervous like she’d been before the two men
showed up. She was just guilty. “I wish I could protect you here, but
Norway is the safest place for you right now.”
“Miss Dustrikke, get your baggage ready,” one of the guys spoke before
I could spit out another angry remark. “We must leave.”
Yeah, I got that, I just don’t get why.
Biting back a rude verbal response, I rushed to my room.
My aunt hadn’t pointed out the exact thing Nordstrøm Island was
supposed to protect me from, just that I needed to relocate halfway across
the globe. I had wasted an hour in screaming before agreeing to this
madness. Something told me these guys wouldn’t wait another hour for me
to sort through Converses and stilettos.
I filled a large suitcase with all the necessities I could think of, as well
as my essential tech toys. Five minutes later, I was standing in the living
room, one hand resting on the suitcase, the other one pulling my laptop bag
over my shoulder.
“Okay, Learyn, this is it,” I told myself out loud, using my real name in
the hopes of learning to accept it soon. “Say goodbye to your dreams of
writing the most brilliant code Silicon Valley has ever seen, and get ready
for the Mecca of black metal music and Satanism.”
“Nordstrøm residents worship neither Satan, nor the goddess Hel,” one
of the guys declared.
“Oookay. Good to know.” Did he mean Hel like Hela from the movie
Thor: Ragnarök? Because I totally worshipped Cate Blanchett in that role!
“Do they headbang to Norwegian black metal all day long?”
“Not to my knowledge,” the same guy replied vaguely.
“How about to Justin Bieber? Because he’s totally a deal breaker.”
“Miss Dustrikke, your deal was sealed the moment you spoke the
conjuration. We must leave.”
I rolled my eyes at him. My aunt stepped in and threw her arms around
me. “I truly am sorry, dear, but they will protect you. I will come as soon as
I take care of some business here. No matter what happens, always
remember you’re a Dustrikke. No spell can take that away from you.”
Still feeling the bitter taste of discovering she had been feeding me lies
my entire life, I stood silent, numb and angry.
“I hope you’ll forgive me one day. We only wished for you to have a
safe life.”
 Some tiny part of me felt bad for her guilt and wanted to hug her back.
She was the only living relative I had, and now I had to move away from
her without even knowing the reason. But that was a tiny, barely noticeable
part. And it was heavily overshadowed by all the anger and bitterness,
coursing through my veins like it was a Fast and Furious race.
My aunt let go of me and took a few steps back. Her eyes glanced from
left to right, exchanging looks with the men. They set foot at my sides and
grabbed me by the elbows. I could tell there was something else she wanted
to say when she pursed her lips and shifted her weight.
But all I needed was to get away.
She could leave her message on my voicemail. I didn’t want to hear yet
another excuse for being deceived about something as fundamental as the
existence of magic.
A split of a second later, my blood pressure dropped. I felt cold and
dizzy, and my knees became shaky. Blinking slowly, I applied the same
Pilates breathing techniques from earlier.
And then I forgot how to breathe altogether.
What stood before me was a stone bridge, too narrow to support more
than a single car. Lined with pavement, it spanned out to an otherworldly
island surrounded by open waters. A vast horizon spread for as far as my
eyes could see in the dawning sky. Soft pinkish glow broke from the clouds,
obstructed by the silhouette of an enormous medieval castle, perched atop
the island.
Disney’s version of Neuschwanstein could suck it.
Dressed in ashy pinks and dark purples by the light of dawn, this right
here deserved to be Sleeping Beauty’s fairytale castle. I made out the
outlines of columns and orders, eaves and sills, arched windows and a clock
tower. The person who had built this lavish castle obviously hadn’t spared a
single dime.
Moving my gaze up, I saw numerous pointy towers stretching towards
the skies. As if the grandeur of the massive structure wasn’t wondrous
enough, there were dozens of smaller towers above all of it, nestled on
fragments of… floating islands! They were tiny floating islands, just
roaming freely in the air above the castle!
Basking in the picturesque vista’s glory, I swallowed my grammar and
lexis. I was genuinely incapable of producing a single sound. How could
this place be associated with dreadful practitioners of death magic?
 Little did I know, deceptive appearances were yet to reveal their true,
grotesque form.
“Welcome to Nordstrøm Island.”
My brain could barely register one of the men’s voices, let alone note
the fact that, somehow, we had traveled from California to Norway in the
blink of an eye.
I sheepishly let the guys guide me across the bridge. My feet functioned
fully on autopilot, since I was too stunned to talk or perform basic motor
functions.
“If you still wish to leave–”
“Hell to the no!”
My ability to speak coherently had returned.

* * *
So, this is how I came to be on a large uncharted Norwegian island, staring
at a castle that could put Sleeping Beauty’s one in its back pocket.
I was swept away from the lies of my human life and was now standing
at the threshold of my journey as a necromancer. I was facing magic I had
never heard of before, let alone learned how to control.
And I was about to make a huge mess out of everything.
 

A Man Is Not Dead Unless His Soul Is Lost

“Can we stop for a second?” I asked hopefully as the two men guided me
through the edifice’s humongous front doors.
“You’ll have time to explore later.”
“Please?” The castle was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Even
more beautiful than any programming language, code or backdoor I had
studied.
“Later,” the guy repeated.
I looked around as we passed from one corridor to another, searching
for telltale signs that would later help me navigate through the castle. There
were too many similar turns, stony walls, statues and portraits of medieval
people, and I had too little time to check them out properly.
Every hallway was lit by torches. Actual old-school torches. Eidetic
memory be damned!
The men dragged me inside a small room with a tall desk and two
chairs. There were no decorations on its walls, only more torches, and
another door right across us.
An elderly looking woman popped her head from behind a computer’s
monitor, positioned on the desk. So, they had electricity in this place.
“Ah, you’re already here, Miss Dustrikke! I just received your aunt’s
message. My name is Raisa Kuoppala, and I am Head of Administration.
Welcome to Nordstrøm Island. We will settle you in shortly. You can take
residence in the castle or in a vacant tower on our parcels of floating land,
which I’m sure you have already seen. But first, please give me a hand.”
Give her a what? As if she’d heard my thoughts, the woman extended
her own hand, palm facing up. I studied it for a few seconds before putting
my right hand over hers.
Everything happened too quickly. A pinching sensation pierced through
my index finger. I jerked away to see a drop of blood running down my
fingertip. Before I could produce a sound, the crimson liquid evaporated
into a cloudy smoke of vivid emeralds. Wide-eyed and confused, I gawked
at the Administration lady, who was putting away a short dagger I had
missed earlier.
She had done magic, not like the one I had already seen, but with blood.
With my blood.
“Keys aren’t efficient here, Miss Dustrikke. Your blood will create a
locking spell on your sleeping chambers. We’ve been informed of your
upbringing as a mortal human. Please be assured, there is nothing to worry
about.”
Just the mysterious thing I’m supposed to be hiding from, right?
“Mm-hmm,” I muttered, still shocked.
A cloud of ebony fumes with bright green sparks emerged from
nowhere, floating freely above the woman’s head. She reached up to snatch
a small sheet of paper from the magical smoke. My vocal cords tightened
once I realized there was handwriting on the paper. The words contrasted
against it, radiating in a shade of blood-like crimson.
“Please take Learyn Dustrikke to Monika Larsen’s room on Hallvard
Nordstrøm’s orders.”
The men quickly dragged me away from her office, plunging us into
another maze of corridors.
We came to a stop on the third floor, near a passageway. It looked like
most of the interior we had passed – wide, paved with stone and filled with
numerous wooden doors. One of my companions knocked on the nearest
door before making a wavy motion with his fingers. The entire frame got
consumed by emerald fire.
I jumped back, pulling away from the other guy.
His buddy stepped directly into the burning flames. The other one
grabbed me again, drew me forward and pushed me into the fire, without
caring for my short-lived scream of protest.
I was too young to be burned to death!
Stumbling ahead, I realized I was fully alive, unharmed, and no longer
standing in the bright greens. Squinting with a rapid heartbeat, I made out
the outlines of another corridor, small and narrow, with two more doors.
One was closed; the other revealed a room with a single bed positioned near
the doorframe. Someone was sleeping in it.
“Larsen! Time to wake up.”
“Five more minutes,” a female voice mumbled.
“Meet Learyn Dustrikke. Your new roommate.”
“Dustrikke!” The voice squealed. Its owner jumped right up into a
sitting position. From what I could see against the green light, she had dark
hair and was vigorously rubbing her eyes. Obviously, this wasn’t the first
time she was hearing my last name. “I’m up, I’m up!”
She quickly got out of bed and ran up to us. I guessed she was close to
my age, but it was a bit hard to determine. Her face was covered in smudges
of black eye shadow.
“Umm… Hi?” I said hesitantly. “Guess I’m your new roommate?”
“Monika Larsen.” She stretched her arm out, then glanced at the big
smudges on it, and immediately retrieved her hand, wiping it off in her T-
shirt. I noticed she didn’t have any pants. Strangely, she wasn’t trying to
hide it. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was having company, otherwise I would
have made myself presentable.”
“Sorry we barged in while you were sleeping. It wasn’t exactly my idea
to interrupt a half-naked girl’s sleep.”
“Nah, I don’t mind the guards. Speaking of, off you go.”
Without uttering a word, the men walked through the burning door, the
green fire disappeared, and a soft glow took its place, coming from a
chandelier on the ceiling. Monika turned her back to a light switch on the
wall, and walked over to a desk in the farthest end of the room.
There was a set of two floor-length curtains next to the desk, probably
hiding a window. If we left aside the curtains and the room’s extremely high
ceiling, this place looked a lot like a dorm room. It held two single beds
with nightstands, one big wardrobe that took most of the wall behind it, a
few shelves next to it, and a coffee table positioned in the center of the
room. Monika’s stuff was all over the place – clothes, books, makeup and a
coffee machine. Didn’t they have kitchens and coffee machines in this
castle?
“Why are these guards allowed to barge into your bedroom?”
She sat behind the desk, removing her panda face in front of a small
makeup mirror. Her hair wasn’t simply dark, but dyed in various shades of
purple. I smirked. If I didn’t like my naturally black hair so much, I would
have loved to get purple highlights.
“They couldn’t leave you hanging in the hallway like a homeless person
all night, right? Or is it morning? Whatever. My point is, they won’t have a
reason to do it again.”
Monika turned her makeup-free face to me with a smile. I smiled back
and pulled my suitcase to the bed across hers.
“I can’t believe I have a fabulous Dustrikke as a roommate!”
“Funny,” I replied to her obviously sarcastic remark.
She could have guessed I wasn’t the fabulous girly-girl type, judging by
my messy hair, chipped black nail polish, ripped black jeans and lack of
tons of suitcases with designer clothes.
“Where did you even come from? I haven’t heard of any Dustrikkes
making public appearances in the last two decades!”
I puffed out the air in my cheeks, dropping on the bed.
“California.”
“America?” Monika rushed over to me. I instinctively moved to the
side. Trust issues were my truest friends lately. “But you’re a Dustrikke!”
“Apparently,” I muttered without wanting to tell her how I didn’t know
what it meant apart from being a strange family name. All of a sudden, I felt
vulnerable, exposed and embarrassed, like I always had around the
“friends” who knew me back in San Francisco. “So, what’s the deal with
this island, anyway? My family didn’t mention it until… recently.”
“Well, it’s like a safe haven for necromancers. And others, of course. It
offers shelter for its regular residents and for anyone who visits. We have all
sorts of magical wards and protections around, including guards like those
two guys. The island also provides a safe place where young necromancers
can learn how to control their powers, away from humans and other
supernaturals.”
Other supernaturals? There were more magical things out there? At
least I didn’t have to feel like a freak. Was I here to seek protection from
them? The other supernatural creatures? I bit my lips, wondering if I should
ask Monika.
“You don’t look thrilled. Were you being prepped for Howard’s College
for The Gifted? Is that why you were in America? Or did you graduate
already? How old are you anyway?”
So many questions!
 “I’ll be twenty-one in December.”
Her squinting stare seemed intrusive. “Wow, you Dustrikkes are way
too secretive. I mean, I get why, but you don’t have to worry.”
“Worry about what?” I asked the million-dollar question.
“Exactly! I’m a Larsen. We – Larsens – have always been on your side.
The family business is guarding your eitr and stuff, so there’s nothing to
worry about. I mean, I’m still not through with my studies to be talking
about the family business, but you get the idea.”
“My what?”
Her grimace deepened. My heart skipped a beat as I decided to shoot for
honesty, despite my fears of vulnerability. This was supposed to be a safe
place for me, right? And Monika had just told me there was no reason to be
apprehensive because she was on my side – whatever that was supposed to
mean.
“I learned about the existence of magic earlier tonight. I’m not worried
about eitr because I have no clue what it actually is.”
“No!” She gasped, leaning closer, running her eyes all over me. I felt
like I was being examined by a supernatural doctor. “Oh, boy! Dustrikkes
being secretive even with their own kin? I never expected your family could
go that far! It does make sense if they wanted to hide you from the
supernatural community, but keeping you in the dark is just plain wrong.”
“Forget my family. Wanna fill me in on what the hell you’re talking
about?”
“Where do I even start?”
A bitter half-laugh, half-snort tore my chest. “Maybe explain what eitr
means?”
“Umm, in simple words, it’s the most venomous substance known in all
Nine Realms. In its purest liquid form, eitr is what gives you, me and other
necromancers our necromantic abilities.”
“A deadly poison is our magic’s life support system?”
“Yeah. It’s rooted deep within our souls.”
I rolled my eyes. “Makes sense. Movies and games call it death magic,
after all.”
“Don’t rely on movies and games. The real world – sorry, for you it
means the supernatural world – is nothing like Netflix. Eitr is highly valued
on the black market, and finding it in pure form is close to impossible
unless you’re loaded with cash and connections.”
 My sick sense of humor kicked in again, making me laugh. “And this
island will keep me safe from the magical dealers who’ll sell me to the
highest bidder?”
“Not you as a whole. Just, you know, your soul. But you’re a Dustrikke,
and everyone knows Dustrikkes are kickass necromancers, excelling at
everything. No one will dare touch you to extract your soul or maim you in
other ways.”
“FML!” I groaned.
“FML?”
“It means fuck my life,” I translated in English. Somehow, listening to
and speaking in a foreign language seemed too natural.
“How long are you here for?”
I shrugged. “Could be a while.”
“Why don’t you practice your evocation until you figure out the while?
Most necromancers reach magical maturity at seventeen or eighteen, so
your powers have already broken out by now.”
Monika seemed so chatty, friendly and open, and my head was
spinning. My anger had abated, as had my fear of being exposed, so I shot
for another question.
“What’s evocation?”
“The most fundamental aspect of necromancy. It’s basically learning
how to evoke different types of postmortem stages, like soul, spirit,
corpse–”
“Whoa, stop!” I hadn’t given much thought to death. There were so
many other details I had learned tonight, that my brain needed time to catch
up, especially with the disgusting parts. “Can I really raise people from the
dead?”
“Not just people. It’s a bit tricky at first, but you’ll get it after a few
tries. I think it took me about four or five until I got a soul from beyond.
The rest is easier, though.”
A soft melody interrupted her explanation. She hurried over to its
source – a phone on the coffee table between the beds.
“I have to go, but my twin brother Max can take over.”
“With what?”
My brain was a mess. There was so much I couldn’t grasp. Every single
magical word sounded foreign to me, regardless of the language spell those
guards had performed.
 “He can give you a tour of the island. Finding your own way around it
is impossible at the beginning, trust me. This place is huge!”
“Please don’t make your brother babysit me. I can explore on my own. I
actually wanted to see more of the castle’s exterior and those floating
islands.”
“Oh, they serve as housing grounds for some of our residents. You’ll
need to get the hang of portals before going there, though. Which means
you’ll also need to exercise your Aperture.”
“The hell?”
“I’m sorry, it’s a long story. Come with me, I’ll show you the way to the
main gates.”
She dressed quickly, we walked out the door and took a few steps
before a flock of guys cut us off at the end of the corridor. The nearest one
curved his mouth in a sly grin.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” He approached us, examining me
head to toe and back again, not making the slightest attempt to mask his
mischievous smile. “Are you lost, baby? Because Vanaheim is a looong
way from here.”
I didn’t know what Vanaheim meant, but it wasn’t hard to guess.
“Ew!” I growled, incapable of hiding my disgust, like he couldn’t hide
his disgusting thoughts. “Drop the vapid pick-up lines!”
“Monika, who’s your feisty friend? Is she a transfer? I’m loving her
already.”
“Hands off, Axel,” Monika warned, sticking her finger in the guy’s
shoulder. “She’s Learyn Dustrikke.”
The ones behind him exploded in boos, aahs and catcalling whistles.
FML! Did everyone really know my name?
“Woohoo, she’s out of your league, boys!” Axel exclaimed, shouting
over the others.
“She’s out of yours as well. Where can I find my brother?”
“Try the infirmary. You know he can’t hold his liquor.”
“You went drinking again?” Monika exclaimed angrily, taking a step
forward. “That’s so typical of you, you brainless idiot! When you know
he’ll have training sessions today! Move!”
She pushed past him, pulling my hand as the guys spread sideways to
make room for us.
 “You’re absolutely invited to my next party, Dustrikke! That’s if you
don’t get killed by then,” I heard the sleazeball shout from behind us.
“Damn that cute little ass, girl!”
The guys’ laughter pierced my ears. The comment itself made me burn
with irritation, awakening an overwhelming need in me to go back over
there and…
“Don’t pay attention to Axel and those idiots,” Monika cut off my
murderous thoughts.
“What did he mean by not getting killed?”
“A local joke.” My concerned expression probably tipped her off
because she waved her hand through the air. “It’s a just a stupid joke. The
only reason they were laughing was because they’ve probably started
betting on who will successfully hit on you first.”
“Dreaming is free.”
“I like your attitude. Come on, I’m running late.”
Rushing to keep up with Monika’s long-legged, hurried stride, I didn’t
have enough time to pause and examine anything. The big statues scattered
here and there, their nooks, archways leading to new hallways, wide
staircases, marbled columns and everything else would have to wait.
We passed only a few more people, so my guess was it was still too
early for anyone to be awake on a Sunday morning. Secretly, I liked it. This
way I didn’t have to see more people who knew who I was, when all I knew
was that I had been living a lie my entire life. Said life had turned into a
mess, so leaving it behind wasn’t a tough decision. Still, I couldn’t swallow
the lies’ bitterness.
Finally, we reached the enormous double doors I had passed at dawn
with those guards. She flung them open, and the bright morning light hit me
at once, forcing me to squint. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the transition
from torch-lit halls to natural daylight, I stepped outside on the stairs’
landing.
For as far as my eyes could see, a deep, blue horizon surrounded the
bridge we had walked on earlier. No mainland, no islands, no bays. Nothing
to break up the heavenly blues.
I had no idea where the bridge led to, but it stretched farther than the
horizon. All I could do was stand there, taken aback by the seamless
panorama, afraid to move, as if that would disturb the ocean waves’
graceful flow.
 “Hey, we should exchange numbers in case I can’t find you later, or vice
versa.”
Monika’s voice tore me out of my dreamy state. Mechanically, I handed
her my phone, too stunned to utter a vocal reply. I had never seen anything
so serenely detached from the everyday hassle of the human world. Before I
could fully snap out of it, she passed me my phone.
“The bridge’s length is an illusion. The real view is better from the other
side.”
Following her advice, I ran to the bottom of the stairs, and spun on my
feet. The grandeur of the massive stony façade took me by surprise. It was
even more stunning in the light of day than it had been at dawn.
Perfectly round columns stretched on both sides of the entrance.
Numerous orders and decorations, winding and twisting, climbed the walls,
gracing the castle’s exterior with their exquisiteness. A clock tower sat on
top of the entrance wing, perched right in the center of the edifice.
I took a step back, then another, walking backwards blindly, because it
was impossible to tear my eyes away from the magnificence of it all.
As I kept going back, more and more of the castle filled my view.
Towers, more towers than I could count, reached for the skies. Some had
smaller turrets protruding from them, others stood lonely and isolated.
Through the centuries, the ashy walls had clearly browned in some places,
but the rooftops pierced the heavens above them with rich, evenly colored
dark greys. Everything seemed otherworldly for such an ancient castle.
Above all of this sublimity, dozens of floating islands roamed the skies.
I blinked several times, making sure my imagination wasn’t fooling me.
The same floating islands I’d seen earlier were still there in daylight. Flat
and muddy on the bottom, they weren’t like the ones I’d seen in video
games.
I kept moving backwards, thirsting for a wider range of vision, for more
of the breathtakingly beautiful sight. More islands appeared, and I was
overtaken by a sudden dilemma. Half of me wanted to keep going
backwards to see more. The other half wanted to spring forward and find a
way to climb on the floating islands.
Before either part could take over, my vision became obstructed by a
large shadow.
It belonged to a tall, extremely tall male figure. The guy had light brown
hair, was probably around my age, and stood a few steps away. Yet, I still
had to painfully throw my head backwards to meet his eyes. I was barely
five-foot-four, and he had to be at least six-foot-eight! His towering height
and bear-like masculine body heavily contrasted with a boyish grin.
“Hi. I’m Maksim Larsen, Monika’s brother,” he said, holding out his
hand to me. “I take it it’s my duty to show you around?”
I shook his hand, blinking vigorously. If he was Monika’s twin, these
two were the most non-identical twins on the globe!
“Sorry, I thought I told her I don’t want to waste anyone’s Sunday with
babysitting me. I already cut her sleep short. There’s no need to impose
further on other family members.”
“Trust me, you’re not wasting anything. As I was saying, it’s my duty to
give you a full tour of the grounds. You’re free now, right?”
He didn’t look hungover. In fact, he looked as if he’d woken up hours
ago and had more than enough time to fully lose his sleep. Was there a
magical cure for hangovers?
I studied his face for a flirty, hitting-on-you look.
“Thanks, but I can’t take you up on that offer. I, uh, actually have to
take care of something, so… I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
He laughed, taking a step forward. “Are you trying to get rid of me?
That wasn’t a very convincing attempt.”
I fixed my eyes on his with the most convincing stare I was capable of
producing, having in mind I had to twist my neck like crazy. “Look, dude, I
already met your gang. I’m not up for a one, or two, or three night stands,
and I’m most definitely not looking for a boyfriend. There’s no point in
trying. See ya!”
What I wanted to say was cut the shit and fuck off. But he was Monika’s
sibling. She’d been really nice to me. Her brother didn’t deserve the full
severity of my post-ex-boyfriend feisty attitude towards guys and people in
general.
“My gang? Oh, you’ve obviously met Axel.” He rubbed the back of his
neck with a frown. “I apologize for whatever he’s done or said, but I’m not
trying to get in your pants. Monika has some things to take care of, which is
why I agreed to show you around. You know, make you feel more welcome
and help you learn your way around the castle.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need a tour guide. And from what I’ve heard, you
have some training thing today. Don’t waste your day with me.”
 “I’m not the type of person who spends his Sundays indulging in
laziness. As for my training thing – I have lots of free time before then.
How about we start over? Hi, my name is Max, and you look like you’ll
need someone to at least show you the main paths. By the way, I’ll be sure
to tell Axel you’re not dating or looking to hook up with anyone. He’s
just… His puberty hits all over again each time he sees a new girl who also
happens to be pretty.”
Maybe this guy wasn’t like his buddies. Maybe my ex had gotten the
best of me. Maybe if I kept going like this, I would condemn myself to a
reclusive, friendless, probably angst-ridden life. Just what I had made of my
previous human life, sans the magic.
“I’m sorry, Maksim. I’m kinda reserved towards guys who see me as
nothing more than a pretty girl since I just got out of a nasty relationship,
and I don’t want a new one in my life right now.”
He didn’t need to know that just got out meant almost a year ago.
“We’ve all been there, right?” He winked with a reassuring grin and
shook my hand again.
Something about the Larsen siblings made me ease down, feel calmer
and reassured. Suddenly, I wasn’t as irritated as I had been earlier. My
annoyance had simply vanished. It was almost… supernatural?
“Come on, rookie,” he cut off my string of strange thoughts, “let’s start
from the bottom and work our way up.”
He led me back through the entrance, which extended to an inner entry,
vast enough to hold at least several dozens of people. A stony arch stood at
the end, branching to a three-way fork. Wide corridors expanded on both
sides, whereas another corridor stretched farther straight ahead.
There was a weird swirly symbol above the arch in the main entryway.
It resembled a circle inside a stretched letter M, but then I noticed it was a
circle connecting two mirroring halves of the letter N. Taking a step back in
horror, I refused to believe my eyes. A human skull was carved inside the
circle. What was worse, two perfectly shaped bare bones guarded each side
of an inscription positioned under the symbol.
En mann er ikke død med mindre hans sjel går tapt.
My mind instantly translated it.
A man is not dead unless his soul is lost.
“Nordstrøm’s family motto,” Maksim explained.
“That’s sexist!”
 “Maybe so, but that’s not the point.”
“Then what is? The crude typography? The obscene skull? Or the
creepy bones? And if that wall decoration is your idea of making people
feel at home, then your interior designer’s ignorance level is abysmal!”
A startling laughter echoed through the halls, bouncing off every stony
surface.
I looked around for its source, and saw someone I had missed earlier.
Slender body, arms folded over his chest. He was leaning against a wall in
the distance ahead of us. Dressed in black from head to toe, with short
strands of messy blond hair falling over his forehead, he almost blended
with the shadows.
The velar, raspy, baritone note of his laughter awoke every irritant
receptor on my skin. The way he had stood there, watching us for who
knew how long, and the fact that he had laughed at my words made me
want to stomp over there and give him a piece of my mind. Fucking
creeper!
The creeper grew silent, nodded towards Maksim, spun around and
walked away.
“Meet Dann Nordstrøm.” Maksim’s words raised me from the low
gutter of my angry thoughts. “He’s usually chattier.”
“You mean Nordstrøm, like… the island was named after his family or
something?”
“Nordstrøm, like the family who originally settled on this island in the
eleventh century and built this castle as their residency.”
Icy shivers crept down my spine as I grasped the full spectrum of the
situation. My heart sped its rhythm, as if to melt the tiny icicles stinging my
skin. My Spidey senses had awoken, whispering how I needed to keep my
problem with authority in line.
“He owns this place?” I whispered with bated breath.
“His family does.”
“Can he throw me in the dungeons for that remark I made earlier?”
Maksim laughed cheerfully, swerving to the right.
“Of course not, the dungeons aren’t used for incarceration. To be
honest, if I were you, I wouldn’t get on his bad side. He’s an excellent
lecturer, and you don’t want to miss out.”
“Miss out on what?”
 “Monika said you’re making the transition from the human world to the
supernatural one only now. From what I’ve gathered, you’re not familiar
with your lineage, so you should attend the History of the Nine Realms
lectures he’s giving every week.”
“What, is this a school or something? Like a special supernatural
academy for necromancers?”
“No, but there are such places in Midgard. Dann taught in two, and
decided to bring the teaching back with him.”
Before coming here, I was taking a year off the University of San
Francisco to deal with my emotional baggage. I sure as hell wasn’t going to
waste my time attending History lectures.
“Marvel taught me all I need to know about the Nine Realms.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Not a history buff, eh?”
“Nope.”
“Give it a try. Dann’s only twenty-six, so his lectures are anything but
conservative and boring.”
Trying to keep up with Maksim’s stride, I made a mental note to be
more careful in the future. My problem with authority had landed me in
deep waters on more than one occasion.
“What are the dungeons used for? Severus Snape’s Potions classes?”
“Mostly for storage and Húsvættir sleeping grounds.”
“Húsvættir? Meaning house spirits?”
“Exactly. They do all the chores around here – cleaning, cooking,
laundry, polishing…”
I rushed to get ahead, and barred his way, taking a stand with arms over
my chest.
”Like Dobby? You’re keeping house elves here to do the dirty work for
you?”
His head dropped to the side with a heavy sigh.
“Would you please stop it with the Harry Potter references? No, not like
Dobby; and they’re called house spirits, not house elves with deformed
Chihuahua ears. They look like humans, only smaller in size. Húsvættir
aren’t slaves. Every house spirit gets rewarded for housekeeping. Besides,
they can leave on their own whenever they want, no questions asked.”
“Uh-huh. It sounds like you’re dividing magical creatures into a
hierarchy, with them being the lower class.”
His hands shot up, waving off my statement.
 “Not at all! Housekeeping is simply rooted into their nature so deeply,
that sometimes they live in uninhabited houses and still tend to them.”
I shook my head. “This is so fucking weird.”
“That’s just your transition phase talking.”
By noon I had seen and memorized – hopefully – the main pathways to
my bedroom, the castle’s main entryway and the library. Or at least I
thought I had memorized them, because as soon as Maksim showed me said
library, everything else disappeared.
I had never considered myself an avid reader, let alone a bookworm.
Yet, once we entered the library, I was convinced we had ascended into
magical heaven. I liked the roomy Gleeson at my university, but this?
Places like this didn’t exist in real life. They couldn’t.
Standing high on a small staircase landing that ended with a sunken
floorplan, I could make out hundreds of rows of bookcases, divided in a
way that left space for a huge aisle in the middle. At the far end ahead, a
wall supported nine gigantic arched windows, arranged on top of each other
and columned in a perfect vertical line. Golden sunrays streamed from
them, soaking everything in bright, natural light.
Nine levels of mezzanine balconies with even more books graced the
impossibly tall sidewalls. Open staircases with ferric railings curved around
each level, connecting it with the others. Reddish mahogany beams and
girders adorned the foundations of every balcony, shelf and sideboard,
while countless volumes’ spines contrasted against the dark wood.
“Cool, eh?” Maksim’s voice sounded distant.
“More like freaking fantastic,” I whispered, taking in the architectural
beauty. “How big is this place?”
“It takes an entire wing of the castle. You can look up the library’s
history later if you want to. Let me show you how to navigate through it.”
Navigate? I was pretty sure even my smartphone’s trusty navigation
would get lost here. Maksim nudged me to the right, pausing next to the
row of bookcases closest to the aisle.
“Larsen,” he spoke out.
Before I could blink, three books appeared in front of him, standing
freely in the air without any support. Wide-eyed, I watched him pick one
and give each of the others a light push with his fingers. Both books flew
back to the bookcase, returning to their shelves.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”
 Once he let go of the final book, it also hung freely in the air instead of
submitting to the basic laws of gravity. He gave it a push, and it flew away.
“The library’s enchanted. Go to the correct section and tell it the subject
you need information on or the exact name of the book you want. If you’re
done with the book, take it back to the proper section, and push it on the
spine. It will return home safe and sound. All you have to do is go to the
correct section and floor level, otherwise the library won’t show you the
correct books.”
“Section and floor level?”
“The very first rows on the right are called Section A and are dedicated
to necromantic family trees and chronicles. They are labeled RA1, as you
can see from the engravings on the side of the bookcases. Meaning right
side of the aisle, Section A, floor level one. Here, in RB1, which is
significantly larger, you can see some reading material for necromancers-in-
learning. Mostly spells and historical books. As you progress on upper floor
levels, you’ll find books on more advanced magic, though it’s best to stick
to this section for now.”
“For the love of Chris Hemsworth!” I groaned and grabbed his arm to
prevent him from going deeper into the library. “All of these shelves are for
newbie magical practitioners like me? I have to go through every single
book here during my… transition?”
“No. Many of them are old books from past centuries, which nobody
uses anymore. The Nordstrøms pride themselves on having the largest
magical library in the Northern Hemisphere.”
I sighed with relief and let go of him.
The third part, called RC1, was filled with reading “rooms” separated
with gorgeous screens made of carved mahogany wood. The back of a
hooded figure protruded from behind a reading desk. My eyes caught a
glimpse of the person’s hand when he or she flipped the pages of an open
book, and that hand had purple – yes, purple – skin. I listened to my
common sense. It had to be a weird refraction of light.
By the time we got back and moved over to the left part of the library, I
already saw quite a few figures here and there. Some seemed in their
twenties, others were older people. Many of them greeted Maksim, and I
couldn’t keep my mouth shut about it for long.
“Okay, are you the captain of the local magical sports team or
something? Why are you so popular? And don’t you have something better
to do on a Sunday than deal with newcomers?”
He burst into uncontrollable laughter. We passed an older man who
shushed us.
“Again with the Harry Potter references,” Maksim said quietly, adding
“I’m sorry” to the guy. “Younger necromancers have the luxury of attending
some practical exercises with older, more experienced casters, but this isn’t
a school. We don’t have magical sports here, and I’m not wasting anything.
As I said earlier, I’m happy to show you around.”
“Do you have any sports? Or at least Pilates?” I asked hopefully,
because my old Pilates classes were among the few things keeping me
somewhat calm. “And you didn’t answer my popularity question.”
“Stop by the training grounds with Monika later to get your popularity
question answered.” His face suddenly darkened. “We don’t have any
sports. Casters, who are still learning how to control their magic, can get
injured in more than enough ways as it is. There’s no need to add up to the
pile of danger.”
“I thought this was a safe place for necromancers.”
“It is and it isn’t,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his neck. On the bright
side, at least I wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable. “Disasters can
occur when you stuff a few hundred people together and some of them
haven’t fully mastered the black magic they were born with. To top it off,
we have a plethora of other supernatural creatures here. That’s why our
older residents prefer spending their time on the floating parcels, away from
most of the drama. Spells go wrong, emotional outbursts lead to destructive
magical outbursts… Evocation might be the worst for someone like you.”
The idea of bringing someone from the dead was crazy enough without
the whole postmortem stages deal.
There was no way I’d tell him about the freezing chills I felt, repulsed
by the sole idea of seeing a corpse. My almost necrophobia-like state of
mind was the reason I couldn’t bring myself to visit my parents’ and uncle’s
graves years after we had buried them. I preferred not to think about what
evocation meant.
Maksim turned to me, placing his large palm on my shoulder.
“Hey, in case no one said it – you’ll do fine.”
But I didn’t do fine. All I did was plunge his world into terror.
 

The Draugar
I spent my day with a few books we had taken from the library, so I could
get a basic understanding of how my kind had come to exist.
While Monika was off doing her thing, I sat on my bed and read about
Freya – a Vanir goddess of fertility, nature, love, wisdom, foresight and
sorcery – and how she had given life to me.
Freya was born in Vanaheim, the realm of the most beautiful gods and
goddesses, but she ruled over Sessrúmnir. It was her own personal fragment
of the divine realm Asgard, where she served as a possessor of the ones
who had fallen in battle, taking their souls under her protection.
According to one of the books, back in the ninth century Freya made an
attempt to put an end to rampant bloodshed and restore the balance on
Midgard, our planet Earth. By using eitr essence, she created three maidens
– Aia, Linnea and Minora – and bestowed upon them the gift of
necromancy. It was a dangerous form of sorcery that meddled with men’s
fates and gods’ will, because it gave Aia, Linnea and Minora power over
any deceased being’s soul, spirit and body.
The three maidens were capable of breathing life back into the dead,
much to the dismay of other Vanir and Aesir deities. They labeled the gift as
black magic; a heresy that only spurred outrage and dread. Out of all the
Aesir, Odin alone took pity over Freya’s burdens. In the midst of the
Asgardians’ turmoil, he ruled that the three maidens would continue Freya’s
quest in restoring Midgard’s fading balance.
Freya settled the three maidens on the Scandinavian Peninsula, where
people still believed in the ways of the old faith and worshipped the Norse
pantheon above everything else. As a means to carrying out her quest, the
goddess gifted them with the reproductive fertility of humans and the
longevity of the sacred white ash trees – a centenarian lifespan of two
hundred mundane years.
At the zenith of their lives, Freya asked the three maidens what they
wanted as a token of her gratitude.
The first one, Aia, wanted to know what other realms looked like. Freya
gave her the power to instantly materialize into any realm at will, allowing
her to journey to other worlds and see the universe through their dwellers’
eyes by wandering into their dreams. Thus, Aia’s children became
Wanderers.
The second one, Linnea, wanted to be able to revel in nature’s beauty
wherever she went. Freya gave her the power to control the elemental
forces of nature, allowing her to call forth spring’s emerald blossom,
summer’s scorching heat, autumn’s cooling winds and winter’s numbing
frost. Thus, Linnea’s children became Elementals.
The third one, Minora, wanted to ensure her bond with Aia and Linnea
would never perish, unlike the bonds between Midgardians so often did.
Freya gave her the power to practice empathy over other living creatures,
allowing her to understand their emotions and stabilize their state of mind
when their psyche was troubled. Thus, Minora’s children became Sentinels.
The other Asgardians secretly hoped the passing ages would eventually
make necromancy obsolete in an ever-evolving world. They spread the
rumors of a deadly practice and raised perpetual fear among the people of
Midgard. Mundane mortals and supernatural creatures alike fretted, loathed
and revolted against terms like black sorcery and death magic.
But Freya’s legacy lived on, and the three maidens’ children gave life to
new generations.
As a way of protecting them from being slaughtered at birth, the
goddess concealed newborn necromancers from the masses by locking
away the newborns’ magical abilities during their youth. This way, their
supernatural maturity wouldn’t flourish for the better half of the first two
decades of their long lifespan.
The Vanir goddess helped several descendants of Aia, Linnea and
Minora settle down in different parts of Midgard and establish safe havens.
In these places, necromancers could be sheltered from the world while they
discovered and developed their true essence.
 Flash forward a few centuries later, and here I was, in one of these safe
havens, known as Nordstrøm Island.
Learning about all these things, especially the long lifespan, only
provoked more questions in my confused mind. My uncle Thomas had died
at the age of eighty-three. If he was a necromancer, was he actually two-
hundred-freaking-years old when he passed away?
And what about my parents? I used to think they had died in a plane
accident, but if necromancers could raise dead people, their demise didn’t
make any sense. They were in their forties, so they couldn’t have died from
natural causes like my uncle. Which meant they could have been revived;
but why weren’t they?
I thought I could get answers to at least some of the things my family
had kept hidden from me. My search had led to the opposite.
When Monika walked into the room later that afternoon and asked if I
was hungry, my frustration had nearly reached a point of vexation.
“No, I need a walk and a distraction because my brain feels like mush.
What does someone do around here for fun? Oh, wait! Your brother told me
to look for him later on some… training grounds?”
She playfully arched her eyebrows, placing a hand on her hip.
“My brother, huh? He doesn’t have a girlfriend or a fuck buddy right
now, in case you were secretly wondering.”
Like clockwork, my system was overtaken by disgust at the idea of
hooking up with someone. My last ex-boyfriend, The Phallus Who Shall
Not Be Named, had been cheating on me throughout my first year at the
University of San Francisco. The guy I dated before him when I was in high
school had slept with me on a bet he’d made with his friends. And my
previous relationships before those two assholes weren’t great either.
“I’m not looking for a relationship or a fuck buddy.”
“Fine. Just saying, in case you change your mind today.”
My disgust gave way to confusion. “Why would I?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”

* * *

The training grounds were housed in a side building, nestled in one of the
island’s two inner courtyards.
We walked into a humongous room with impossibly high ceilings. Most
of the floor space was covered with padded mats. Countless decorations
graced the walls on each side of the room – freestanding and hanging
varieties of punching bags, rubber dummy targets, knives, staffs and other
weapons, dumb bells, bench presses, and tons of other equipment.
In the midst of it all was a crowd, divided into two groups. The first one
held twenty-something-year-olds stretching on the floor. They were sitting
on a notable distance for an obvious reason – the latter group was
comprised of men who were engaged in a heated hand to hand combat.
The dozen or so fighters, wearing those black suits I had seen on the
two guards, weren’t fighting each other; they were all battling one guy.
It took me a while to recognize the tall and slender frame. He moved
with inhuman speed, forcing one man after another off his trajectory. I
couldn’t get a clear view of his face because of his speedy movements, on
top of the fact that short blond hair streaks kept falling over his eyes.
When he dodged attacks, he was plunging, bending, twisting and
turning. It looked almost as though he was dancing. But when he struck his
opponents, his moves were flexible, precise and sharp. It was a paradoxical
mixture of supple elegance and strident hits.
Apparently, Dann Nordstrøm wasn’t just an excellent lecturer as
Maksim had described him earlier. He was also excellent at fighting off a
bunch of beefy guards. Additionally, he was excellent at being a sneaky
creeper.
A loud clapping sound yanked me out of the trance-like state in which I
was watching His Excellency’s swift movements, and brought me back to
Earth. Maksim Larsen was clapping while leaning on a column across the
room, grinning widely. The men ceased their fight, straightened up, and
shook each other’s hands.
“Nice work, rookie!” Maksim shouted over their heads.
“Hey, Ursa Major!” Monika’s voice made me turn back, but she was
already running off to her brother. I smiled at the nickname she used for her
sibling. Great Bear suited him well. “Should we enroll Learyn in?”
“I don’t know.” Maksim glanced over Monika’s purple head in my
direction. Not only did the twins look nothing alike when it came to facial
features, but their height difference was comical. Monika was taller than
me, but even she looked tiny next to her twin brother. “Think she can
handle it?”
“Handle what?” I asked, approaching them. “What’s all this?”
“Mostly Krav Maga mixed with some Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.”
 “Is this why you’re so famous?”
“Yeah. You’re looking at one of the youngest Midgardian black belt
martial artists in BJJ. When I came to the island, some residents were
already practicing defensive and offensive magic. I suggested they pair it
with physical fighting to make it more efficient. The Council agreed. They
made me an assistant instructor to the guards who do defense and offense,
and later allowed me to run non-magical self-defense classes.”
“Efficient against what?” I crossed my arms over my chest, twisting my
neck backwards to meet his eyes.
“You never know what life will throw at you, right?” He grinned with
that boyish smile which strangely contrasted with his gigantic structure.
“Think about it. At the very least, someone can try to mug you on the street.
What’s better – to attack the bastard with fatal death magic, or to give him a
couple of bruises?”
“Can’t argue with that point,” I agreed as my muscles relaxed after his
explanation. “But to be clear, I’m not up for enrolling in your fight club. I
don’t want to be surrounded by a dozen beefy guys trying to beat me up.”
“A dozen? Oh, you mean what we did with Dann. You wouldn’t have to
do that. We just like pushing some people’s limits. Take my group for
example – the ones stretching on the floor. They spar only in couples.”
“Just the same.”
“If you ever decide to give it a try, you can start at any time. The
Council has approved martial arts for everyone, regardless of their age.
They even encourage the island’s residents to learn self-defense. Anyway,
how are you settling on your first day?”
“Peachy,” I lied immediately.
Whatever this Council thing was, I had no intention of playing by
anyone else’s rules.
And unfortunately for Monika, I didn’t change my mind regarding
relationships, even after learning Maksim could fight like a hunky badass
on top of looking like one.

* * *

As I walked through the inner courtyards after sundown with my roommate

on our way to dinner, I realized Norway wasn’t the arctic hell I expected it
to be.
“Hey, Monika, why is it so warm outside? Is it magic?”
 “The island is close to Stavanger, which is in Southwestern Norway. We
get mild weather here. I was born in the Karasjok area. Trust me, it isn’t a
fun place to be, unless you’re visiting in the summer.”
“Is that on the North Pole?”
“No, but it does feel like it. Winters are minus-fifty degrees Celsius.”
I did the math, converting it to Fahrenheit, and nearly lost my step.
“You’re fucking kidding me!”
She laughed dryly. “I wish I was. My paternal grandparents are Danish,
but they moved to Norway in the late nineteenth century. Each Christmas, I
secretly wish they stayed in Denmark. Even Max hates Karasjok’s weather,
though he already has the structure of a polar bear.”
I burst into laughter, grateful we weren’t near Karasjok.
Despite the mild temperatures, we passed what looked like a frozen
pond with some people who were ice skating. Monika explained there were
two ponds on the island, and Elementals froze them whenever they didn’t
feel like waiting for winter to come.
“Do you skate?” she asked as we approached the castle.
“Yeah, I used to do it every now and then back in San Francisco.”
“Can you teach me?”
“I can try. It’s not hard if you know how to rollerblade.”
“Awesome! We can order ice skates online when we get…”
I didn’t hear what she said next, because something fell from the tree
branches above me, landing directly at my feet. I jumped back, only to see
it was a tiny bird. Fluttering its wings and telltale forked tail feathers, the
small swallow twisted and turned on the ground, unable to get on its feet.
“Aww, it’s okay, little buddy.” I spoke in a soft voice, kneeling before it.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”
Carefully reaching for the bird, I gently put my fingers around it. I
could feel its rapid heartbeat pounding on my skin, and my own heart
skipped a beat, aching for the poor thing. I had no idea if swallows in
Norway spent their autumn in the north, or if its injury was the reason for
staying behind, but I wasn’t going to leave it here. We were on a magical
island; there had to be a magical way to fix whatever was wrong with it.
Before I could get up, the rapid heartbeat came to an abrupt halt with
one final, thumping vibration. I froze in my spot.
“Nooo!” A whimper of panic escaped me as I tried to bite back the
familiar nauseating symptoms. “No, please be in shock, please let it be just
a shock, please be alive! Be alive, please, be alive!”
Icy shivers crawled down my spine, contrasting with the burning rush of
blood incinerating my veins. I was indeed overtaken by frenzied panic
which, paradoxically enough, grew more numbing by the second.
The liquid fire in my veins made me breathless. Scorching waves
clouded my mind and vision. I turned my head left and right, frantically
looking around for Monika, hoping the bird would live long enough for us
to get it inside where it was warmer, so we could nurse it back to health.
But I couldn’t see clearly. There were too many people in the courtyard, it
was too dark, and everyone collided into a seamless blur.
The flames kept blazing through my system, hell-bent on devouring me
from the inside out. I couldn’t find my voice to call for Monika.
All of a sudden, a deafening siren-like male yell pierced my eardrums
painfully, repeating the same two words over and over again.
DRAUGAR ALERT. DRAUGAR ALERT.
I let out a whimper, gritting my teeth in pain, and turned to the swallow
in my hands, only to discover I was holding emptiness.
The bird was levitating in the air freely, clasping only its wings without
moving its body. The torso and tail stood perfectly still and almost lifeless
between its fluttering wings. I had never, ever seen a bird of any kind act
this way.
DRAUGAR ALERT. DRAUGAR ALERT.
And I had definitely never seen a swallow with bright green eyes
glowing in the dark. Which was exactly how this one’s eyes burned as they
stared directly into mine.
DRAUGAR ALERT. DRAUGAR ALERT.
“Get away from it!”
Someone shouted, and a strong hand grabbed my elbow, dragging me
away from the bird. I couldn’t get on my feet fast enough. My ankle bent in
the wrong direction, painfully grazing the ground beneath me.
“Ah! Let me go!”
The swallow shot itself through the air, flying right towards me, and
came to a halt inches away.
Before I knew it, its beak charged at the fingers curled around my arm,
and started pecking at the one who was holding me. Vigorously and
surprisingly unnatural for its small size, the beak left bloody marks all over
the guy’s hand. Dozens of crimson drops shined ominously under the
moonlight as they landed on the opening of my jacket, splattering on top of
my shirt. It felt as if my skin burned under the fabric, though the drops
hadn’t laid a single burn mark on the cloth.
Nauseating, cold breeze swirled in my stomach. The guy withdrew his
hand to fight off his savage attacker, who seemed to grow more rabid by the
second.
DRAUGAR ALERT. DRAUGAR ALERT.
Amidst the monotonous sirens, the guy’s shouting, the swallow’s
gurgles and the violent swishing of its flapping wings, a flash of green light
erupted out of nowhere.
The bird got consumed by emerald flames. Those deafening sirens
ceased their ear-shattering whistling. The unfamiliar guy, who had grabbed
me, grunted in pain and got up. Holding his injured hand by the wrist, he
walked away, swearing under his nose. Still stunned by what had just
happened, I remained on the ground until a familiar face surrounded by
dark purple curls entered my peripheral vision.
“Up,” Monika urged quietly, catching my arm.
“What happened?”
“You made a Draug. I’ll explain everything when we’re inside.”
She pulled me on my feet, wrapped one hand around mine and put the
other behind my back, guiding me towards the nearest gates.
Several people had apparently gathered around us, while a significantly
bigger crowd was watching from afar.
I studied my audience. A few people looked surprised, but the most
common expression was fear. A sea of eyes, all staring into mine with the
same intense, boundless, candid fear.
The only familiar face I managed to recall belonged to a light brown
head sticking above most. Maksim Larsen. And next to him was another
familiar face, the one of Dann Nordstrøm. He had a girl hanging from his
elbow, whispering something to him. As Monika dragged me right past
them, the girl turned away from him, and the long, sandy blonde hair that
was partially hiding her revealed a strikingly beautiful face. Wow! This one
had simply won the necromantic gene pool.
Her glare, overflowing with unfeigned fury, made my stomach turn
once again. I looked away, locking eyes with Maksim’s terrified expression,
which only increased my anxiety.
“Monika–”
 “Not now,” she interrupted my question, pushing me through the gates.
“Keep walking!”
No longer hearing a whirlwind of roaring sounds or seeing the crowd, I
inhaled slowly, trying to calm down. What had just happened? What was
that siren? Why did it make the twins worry? Why were people afraid? And
why was the blonde looking at me like I was her nemesis?
Barely holding my mouth shut for so long, I stormed over Monika when
she finally got us in our room.
“What happened out there with the swallow? Why did it hurt that guy?
What’s a Draugar alert? Why were people looking at me like that?”
“Breathe! Please!” She urged with a high-pitched voice, sitting on her
bed. “The siren is a precaution against a Draug. Draugar in plural. It goes
off whenever there’s a Draug on the island’s territory.”
“What precaution? Was it because of the swallow?”
“It wasn’t a swallow anymore. You made a Draug from it. But you
shouldn’t be able to do that. Actually, most necromancers can’t do that on
purpose, even experienced necromancers avoid using that type of death
magic… This is bad, it’s really bad… Now the entire Council is gonna be
on fire, and… Oh, crap, my ass is gonna be on fire too… And I should have
watched you…”
“You’re not making any sense!” I interrupted her squealing mumbles.
“Sorry, sorry… What I meant to say is… That swallow died and you
brought it back to life. Kind of. It went into a postmortem stage, a really,
really messed up stage, which you shouldn’t be able to evoke. Some guy
tried to pull you away, then one of the guards destroyed it.”
“Postmortem? I zombified it?”
Monika rose, breathed in, then caught my shoulders. I felt a soft sort of
warmth in my guts. The sensation slowly spilled over the rest of my body,
easing my anxiety with every passing second. It was almost like I had drank
a cup of hot milk before bed after a long and exhausting day, and its warmth
was sending calming waves into my brain’s nerve endings.
It took me a while to understand what was happening.
“You’re a Sentinel!”
“Yes, I am, and no, you didn’t zombify the bird.”
She sat back on her bed, licked her lips and stared at me with the same
frightened expression the others had earlier. Like I had terrorized a human
being for the kicks of doing so right in front of her.
 On the other hand, I wasn’t sure what I should have been afraid of – her
emotion-warping magic or my own crazy magic.
“We call them Draugar, but every nation has a different term. I’ve heard
German necromancers here use the word seelenlos and the Slavs call them
nezhivoy.”
“Yeah, and in the US we just call them zombies.”
“Draugar aren’t zombies, smartass,” she corrected me, lurching
forward. “They’re dead creatures whose bodies have been brought back to
life without their soul; and there’s a magical barrier, which prevents the soul
from returning ever again. It’s not a zombie, and it wasn’t trying to eat that
boy’s brain like zombies do in movies.”
“It wasn’t? Then what do Draugar eat? Flesh?”
“They don’t eat. They are living corpses with no biological or social
needs except for the one to serve their master.”
Serve their master? As in, I was its master and it was trying to do
whatever I wanted it to? Wound some innocent person? “Monika, that’s
bullshit! I didn’t fucking tell a cute little swallow to attack anyone!”
“You were too scared and confused. It just sensed that and tried to
protect you.”
“This place is insane!”
With a loud groan she lied down, closing her eyes.
“If others can’t make a Draug, how did I make one? And why do you
have a siren for it?”
“Because it’s dangerous.”
“Why is it dangerous? Why did everyone look worried and scared?”
“Because it’s bad, Learyn! It’s a very dark and advanced form of death
magic. Bringing a body back to life without its soul is one thing. Creating
that magical barrier and transforming the corpse into a Draug is something
different. Nothing can restore a Draug’s soul. Sure, you did it accidentally,
but bottom line is, it still happened. Don’t you understand? It was a bird
today. It can be one of us tomorrow.”
My brain hamster finally spun on its wheel. I didn’t know anything
about this world, yet I had already managed to screw up on an epic level. In
front of way too many people.
“How much trouble am I in?”
“Only Hallvard Nordstrøm can tell. He’s the acting Head of this place
and consults with a Council of other casters. Oh, crap! I was supposed to
watch over you, help you ease into our world, and I’ve failed!”
“But why?” I asked, regarding everything.
“Why is the Council in trouble? Because they have to deal with the fact
that an island resident, one who was brought up like a human, can make a
Draug. Why am I in trouble? Because I failed! Again! I’m failing at
everything this year!”
All of a sudden, I wasn’t so apprehensive about my own mess. Monika
and her brother had been so kind to me. Now, judging by her fidgeting
fingers and trembling voice, she looked on the verge of a breakdown after
something I had done.
I sat next to her, hoping her Sentinel powers hadn’t backfired after she
used them on me.
“Hey, I don’t know if you’ve failed at something else, but when it
comes to me, I don’t make it easy for others. I get myself into trouble all the
time.”
She stared at the ceiling for a while, as if contemplating her response.
“You don’t get it, Learyn. I fail at everything. Max is the one who
exceeds at whatever he does. His powers broke out a year before mine did,
and he’s younger than me by eight freaking minutes! He’s already an
instructor here, he’s traveled the world to see all sorts of magical places,
he’s the best! Meanwhile, I turn everything I touch to ruin!”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad! We’re necromancers. We can bring
people back from the dead, so you practically can’t turn everything you
touch to ruin. Get it?”
She shook her head, clearly unamused by my cynical irony.
“I should have told you all of it. Instead, I left you alone and clueless on
your first day.”
“Monika, my aunt fed me coldhearted lies my entire life. Trust me, you
can’t feed me twenty years’ worth of information over several hours. As for
the Council – they can suck it. If they think you can teach me all about
being a necromancer overnight, then they need to find replacements with
more realistic thinking. Preferably someone who’s also willing to change
that sexist family motto and their creepy emblem.”
She half-scoffed, half-laughed. “Thanks.”
“Can I ask why you were supposed to watch over me? The
Administration lady told the guards to bring me to your room on Hallvard
Nordstrøm‘s orders.”
 “You’re a Dustrikke. What’s more, you’re a direct descendant of one of
the first necromancers the goddess Freya created, Linnea Dustrikke. Didn’t
your aunt tell you at least that?”
No. Fucking. Way!
“Hmm, let’s see. She told me my name was Leah Dust instead of
Learyn Dustrikke. She also told me I came from a long line of San
Franciscan humans instead of Norwegian necromancers. But she never
bothered going as far as the ninth century.”
“Oh, boy! You read how we came to be, right? In those books? So, the
first three necromancers married into human families – Aia’s Nordstrøm,
Linnea’s Dustrikke and Minora’s Veland. Today there are no more
descendants of the Veland family, only Nordstrøm and Dustrikke ones have
survived. Not all of them are direct descendants of Aia and Linnea. Some
are humans or other supernatural beings, who have married into the original
families. Now do you see why they couldn’t leave you on your own without
having at least a roommate who wasn’t raised in the human world?”
“I see, I understand, and it’s still insane!”
Accepting the existence of the supernatural world was one thing. But
me being a direct descendant of one of the first three necromancers in the
world? This was a brand-new level of batshit crazy.
“Can we go eat? What’s left of my brain cells need nourishment if I’m
going to learn more family secrets.”
“Um, after making a Draug in front of everyone, I think it’s best if you
don’t show your face in the Dining Hall this evening. I’ll go grab us
something to eat.”
She ran off with an uneasy face, stained by more traces of the same
anxiety. I got up, eyed my suitcase, and decided to unpack.
Less than twenty-four hours since my arrival in a new country, I had
already gotten myself in knee-deep shit. This was a new record, even for
me.
 

Murder, Martyr And Blight

It wasn’t hard to guess I was the hot topic for the next few days. People
stared at me everywhere I went – in the library, down the corridors, in the
castle’s courtyards, in the Dining Hall during lunch and dinner… Good
thing I didn’t eat breakfast and spent my days reading magical books,
otherwise I would have lost it if I had to constantly endure the staring.
Older and younger necromancers alike weren’t throwing me glances of
pleasant recognition. All I saw in their eyes was fear. Some tried to hide it
and looked away, others literally distanced themselves from me.
Four days passed this way. I hadn’t received as much as a text message,
let alone a phone call from my aunt, so the reason I came here was still a
guessing game.
I was killing time by trying to learn more about magic from books. The
library’s entire left side, holding Section L1 to Section L9, was filled with
volumes on lore and mythology, non-magical books on world history and
arts, and four levels with restricted access, called Warded Sections.
The latter took up the top four floors, and the Larsen siblings both
shrugged when I asked what sorts of books were hidden there. Maksim had
let me in on a local joke about a book with binding made of human flesh.
Not that I believed him, but I was overtaken by unhealthy curiosity to see
what volumes were stored in the Warded Sections. When I tried to check
them out, an invisible wall cut me off at the spiraled staircase only a step
away from Section L6.
I had taken a bunch of books on supernatural creatures from RB1 and
L1 to my room to avoid spending time around people. Tonight’s topic was
Askafroa – one of the many different types of tree guardians. In a nutshell,
Askafroa were malicious dryad-like creatures, merciless in their rigorous
protection of ash forests. Female guardians, residing in the ash trees,
waiting to strike down travelers who dared to approach their dwellings.
My reading was cut short in the middle of the night by a nasty scraping
sound coming from behind me.
Turning, I saw Monika, who was sleeping in her bed. Shaking my head,
I focused back on the book. There it was again, the same noise. Someone
was scraping on a solid surface right behind me. The window? I jumped out
of bed, flung the long blackout curtains to the side, then froze in my spot.
What I initially thought to be a tree branch hitting the window, turned
out to be something far less natural. A small bird was grating its beak
against the glass. Its forked tail was spread out, as were its wings, but they
weren’t fluttering. Everything apart from the bobbing head stood
statuesquely. And that wasn’t the only eerie element in the bird’s
appearance. The swallow was a translucent figure, made of pearly
highlights and a see-through body.
My heart skipped a beat. The bird scraped its beak along the window. A
nauseating whirlwind spun in my stomach. That thing out there wasn’t
alive. And judging by the transparent hollows of its eyes, the ghost was
fixated on me.
I clasped a hand over my mouth, suppressing the urge to vomit. The
apparition attacked the glass once again, then floated – not flew, but floated
– away into the night. I quickly closed the curtains and curled in my bed,
hugging my knees to my chest.
You’re not seeing ghosts. This is fucking insane. You’re not being
haunted by that Draug monster’s spirit. If it was really a ghost, it wouldn’t
have stopped at the window.
Another screech followed, rising above the voice of my common sense.
You’re imagining shit. Get it together. If there was a ghost, it would
have gone through the window, not paused to politely knock on it.
As if the apparition had heard me, it produced two short knocking
sounds.
My heartbeat sped up, abusing my eardrums. The knocking repeated,
then switched back to horrendous scraping. I bolted for the bathroom and
threw up the fruity Swedish pancakes I ate at dinner. A few hours ago, I’d
thought the combination of red lingonberries, amber Norwegian
cloudberries and indigo blueberries looked cute. Now, I regretted it. I
wasn’t vomiting rainbows, and the sight of my partially processed food
nearly made me puke again.
After brushing my teeth and washing my face with icy water, I returned
to bed with the idea of ditching the creepy Askafroa tales and going to
sleep. Only problem was, my imagination wasn’t playing tricks on me.
There was indeed a ghost outside, and judging by those gravelly scratching
sounds, I was being haunted.
Slowly parting the curtains again, I faced the swallow’s translucent
form.
“What is it?” I whispered with bated breath. “What do you want? Are
you trying to tell me something?”
The bird’s beak scraped the glass again. I braved my necrophobia-like
symptoms, filled my lungs’ capacity, and opened the window. But instead
of coming inside, the apparition hit an invisible wall. I glanced at Monika,
who was still sleeping, and decided to deal with my problem the way I dealt
with everything – alone.
Two minutes later, I was standing outside the castle’s main gates.
“Miss Dustrikke?”
A man in a black guard’s uniform appeared out of the blue, sending
waves of cold air my way. He was either hiding his fear well, or he was
among the handful of people who weren’t afraid of me.
“I’m… Ugh, this is gonna sound stupid. I’m looking for a ghost. It tried
to get in my bedroom, but couldn’t. Have you seen it? It looks like a
swallow.”
“Ghosts can’t enter the castle.”
So, that’s why the bird hit a wall earlier. Before I could ask the guard if
he’d seen a ghost again, the swallow appeared in my peripheral vision. As
eerily translucent as before, it shot itself at us.
“Wait, no, don’t hurt–”
My words were outshouted by my own scream. I thought the bird would
attack the guard, much like the Draug had done with that guy. But instead
of going for my companion, the apparition aimed for my chest.
It felt as though someone had stuck a sharp icicle in my ribcage and
twisted it, making its way towards my back. The pain didn’t ease down, and
when the bird reversed its trajectory, piercing me backwards, the frostbite
spread into every inch of my flesh.
“Stop!” I yelled, squeezing my eyes as they filled with tears. “Please!”
 The ghost slammed its freezing force into my chest again. I fell to my
knees, incapable of withstanding the icy tremors running under my skin.
Every cell in my body stung in an excruciating way.
“Gjenferd!”
My eyes opened at the sound of someone else’s yell. Through the prism
of my tears, I saw a man running to me, murky and blurry, illuminated by
something emerald, which seemed to be coming from behind me.
Whimpering from the agony every movement brought, I looked around,
only to realize the green light was coming from me. Threads and crewels of
vivid emeralds unraveled from my skin, spanning in every direction like
crooked tree branches.
I gasped, taking in another horrifying sight. Behind me, the guard I was
talking to earlier was lying on the ground with a wide-eyed look of shock
frozen on his features. The swallow hung lifelessly in the air, no longer
fixated on attacking. But the wintry agony kept tearing me from the inside
out, as if the apparition was still piercing my body.
“W-what’s… happening?” I asked the other man, who had yelled. One
look at him made me cry out, partially from the pain, partially from what I
saw. He was also lying petrified on the ground.
I screamed, giving voice to my fear.
“Calm yourself, Miss Dustrikke,” a male voice outshouted my screams.
“S-stay back,” I spoke out the words through sobs, trying to focus my
vision on the blurry figure coming from the bridge.
He lifted a hand and drew a circle in the air, then approached as if he
couldn’t see the evidence why doing so was a bad idea.
“Please,” I whimpered as he kept moving towards me. “I don’t want to
hurt you too.”
“Everything is going to be all right.”
I tried to crawl away from him, but the pain was too much.
My limbs were nailed to the ground, pierced in so many places, that all I
could feel was overwhelming agony. The man came closer, reaching my
emerald threads’ scope, but they didn’t strike him. An ethereal force pushed
them back towards my body. They bent up, aiming for the skies like
vultures of blazing emerald lights.
The man caught my shoulder. My frenzied emotions – fear, worry and
pain – syphoned through me, as if they were chased by an invisible
predator. I sensed a strange alleviation. My chest contracted with a heavy
sigh, I sucked in a deep breath, and realized he was a Sentinel. The bright
lights dispersed into the night, disappearing as unexpectedly as they had
manifested in the first place. Just like those green threads, the swallow’s
apparition vanished from sight.
“I’m going to let go of you and revive my colleagues. Can you stay
calm in the meantime?”
“R-rev-vive?” I hiccupped.
They were dead? How was it possible?
The guy spread his arms to the side, each palm facing the deceased, and
streams of emerald haze flew from his hands, illuminating the night. When
his magic touched the guards, they rose like marionette dolls. I shuddered,
incapable of producing a sound.
One of the guards walked up to us. “Marcus! Where’s that wretched
spirit?”
“Banished. Go back to your posts. I’ll take Miss Dustrikke to the
Council.”
Council? That group of casters Monika had mentioned? The ones who
ran this place alongside Hallvard Nordstrøm? FML! I had managed to get
myself in deep waters. Again! And I had spent less than a week here!
“What does Gjenferd mean?” I asked Marcus while he guided me
through the castle’s corridors. “One of those guards shouted it. And how
were they dead? Did I really… Could I…”
“Gjenferd are malicious spirits; and yes, you killed the guards.”
I gasped for air, coming to a halt. The man caught me by the elbow,
putting me at ease through his Sentinel powers before I could start
hyperventilating over what killed meant.
We entered Administration’s office, where an unfamiliar woman was
sitting behind Raisa Kuoppala’s desk.
“We need a Council meeting tonight.”
“Hallvard Nordstrøm is away, as is Johanna Larsen. The earliest they’ll
be available is Saturday.”
“It’s a matter of urgency, which can’t wait until Saturday.”
The woman squinted at me. “I’ll call for Dann Nordstrøm. He’s the only
Council member currently on the island.”
Shit! If he had let my comments on his family’s motto and my Draug
incident slide, he was most definitely not going to let me off the hook for
murder. Like clockwork, my gag reflex woke up. The nausea passed in less
than an instant, courtesy of the Sentinel guard’s grip.
A few minutes later, we were standing in an auditorium, with
amphitheatrically positioned tables and a large podium on the bottom. The
latter held a big desk. As if the other tables on the steps weren’t enough to
give off the impression of being back in university, the whiteboard behind
the podium solidified my theory. This had to be a lecture hall.
“I didn’t mean to hurt them!” I squealed as soon as the creeper walked
in. “I don’t even know how it happened! There were some green things, and
a ghost, and the men–”
He interrupted me by lifting both hands in the air, then glanced at my
companion without giving me as much as a word.
“Marcus, would you please explain?”
What the fuck? Didn’t I have a right to explain myself?
“I found her outside the front gates. Eitr threads were flowing from her.
Her magic had intercepted two guards and a Gjenferdet spirit. By the time I
Apertured on the premises, my colleagues were dead and the apparition was
immobilized. I’ve banished it, the men are revived and back at their posts,
but I’m afraid Miss Dustrikke is more dangerous to herself and to others
than we suspected.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt them!” I yelled in frustration.
“Did you get a chance to count her eitr threads?”
“At least twenty, spanning from every direction.”
“And you’re sure the spirit was a Gjenferdet?”
“Yes. I believe it belongs to the same bird she transformed into a Draug
on Sunday.”
“Hey, I’m still here! Before you lock me in a dungeon, will you at least
hear me out?”
Dann Nordstrøm ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. “I’m aware of
your presence, Miss Dustrikke. As you already mentioned, you don’t know
what happened, which is why I asked Marcus to explain. No one will lock
you up or punish you for unintentionally murdering two of our guards, in
view of the fact both men are now alive.”
Murder. I had murdered two people. A gut-wrenching tornado hit my
stomach.
“I’m sorry! The ghost was scratching at my bedroom’s window, I came
outside to look for it, then it attacked me. It… went through me. Again, and
again. I don’t know how those eitr threads appeared, and I didn’t see how
the guards died. Like I said, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. It just… just
happened.”
Even I couldn’t fully comprehend the words coming out of my mouth.
How could murdering someone just happen? Not someone, but two
someones! How could he believe me, when I found it hard to believe
myself?
His eyes landed on mine. Blue. Cold. Intrusive. Frostbite gnawed at my
bones as those arctic blue irises pierced me, shattering my frozen being.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked breathlessly.
“First and foremost, I’d suggest a good night’s rest. You can begin your
training tomorrow.”
“Training?”
“Due to these outbursts, it’s imperative that you learn how to control
your magic, especially when it comes to evocation. As long as you’re on
this island, it will be mandatory. Judging by Adaline Dustrikke’s
explanations, you’ll be staying with us for at least a month, which is more
than enough time for you to unintentionally hurt yourself if–”
“You spoke with my aunt?”
“Not personally, but she informed the Council you would stay here at
least until December.”
She couldn’t bother telling me anything, but she went around making
such plans about my life behind my back? Was I a five-year-old incapable
of taking decisions?
“As I was saying, one month is more than enough time for you to hurt
yourself or others. We will also appoint you an Elemental mentor for good
measures. Aperture will be necessary, unless you wish to find yourself in
unexpected places at the least convenient of times. Marcus, I believe you’ll
see to it?”
“Unexpected places?” I repeated, eyeing the guard.
“Aperture is the act of materializing your corporeal form in and out of a
certain space.”
My jaw hit the floor. “Like… teleportation? Necromancers can
teleport?”
“Aperture, not teleportation,” the guard corrected me firmly, clearly not
surprised by my shock.
 So, not only did I have the power to kill people, raise them, and
transform them into soulless undead beings, but I could also teleport? This
place got crazier by the minute. And the worst part was, my bitterness over
my aunt’s deceit only grew more acidulous with every bit of magical
information I learned.

* * *
Sleep never came. I had committed murder, and I couldn’t get over it as
easily as I had learned how to accept the existence of magic.
Worst of all, the four men who knew about it – two of whom had died
because of me – didn’t seem bothered by the actual murder. But I wasn’t
like them. I came from a world where murder meant prison.
And I sure as hell wasn’t someone who descended from the famous
Linnea Dustrikke. I was simply a twenty-year-old girl from San Francisco.
Writing codes, learning programming languages, operating with new
software… all of it came naturally to me. But learning magic? How the hell
was I supposed to do that, when I had taken a year off the easy studies to
deal with my emotional issues? How was I supposed to learn about
necromancy when all functions in the code of my being screamed murder?
Monika woke up a few hours after I got back to our room, asking why I
looked miserable. She waved off the fact I had taken two lives tonight, as if
death and homicide were trivial things.
However, when I told her about my eitr threads, she jumped in bed.
“No way! You shot twenty freaking threads from your body?”
“That’s what Marcus Dahl said. I have no idea what I did, or how they
appeared to begin with.”
She fidgeted with her left hand’s fingers, rolling them between her right
one’s thumb and index.
“Spill, Monika. What sort of shit did I get myself into?”
“It’s not shit per se, but… Umm, I guess you were scared and hurting,
the way you were with your Draug. That explains your magic shooting out
of you in uncontrollable ways. And since it has manifested as eitr threads,
not as Elemental magic, anything in those threads’ way would have
dropped dead.”
“Uh-huh, since eitr is poisonous and all that,” I noted out loud. “But the
ghost couldn’t die like those men, because ghosts are already dead. Kinda.
Right?”
 She grimaced, nodding to the side.
“Learyn, there’s something I didn’t tell you on Sunday because I didn’t
want to scare you after the Draug.” She paused to bite her thumb’s
fingernail, fueling my curiosity. “Remember how I said it’s an advanced
and dark form of necromancy? The practice of using Draugar became
popular among dark covens of sorcerers in the Renaissance. Nowadays
experienced casters don’t do it, but not just because it’s wrong.”
“Is it because they don’t want to steal souls?”
“Stealing a soul calls for different aspects of necromantic magic. It’s
easier to draw out a soul and entrap it into becoming your slave than it is to
make Draugar.”
I shuddered, wrapping the covers around me. If I could kill people and
make Draugar without trying, was I going to accidentally steal someone’s
soul tomorrow? Like I needed something else to look out for!
“Experienced necromancers don’t make Draugar because it’s dangerous
for them, too, not only for their target. This type of magic calls for risky
complexity; and if it’s not performed properly, it has an outcome worse than
death. Mustering so much eitr from your magical core can transform you
into a Livløs.”
I remained silent as I tried to swallow the thick lump in my throat to no
avail.
“A Livløs state occurs when a complex spell goes completely out of a
necromancer’s control, because he or she can’t properly conduct their
magical energy. The flow of too much eitr consumes the sorcerer or
sorceress. Their soul turns into primordial eitr, corrupting every cell in the
body, erasing all traces of humanity, and leaving behind a terrifying creature
in its place.”
My vocal cords ached when I whispered my next words. “So, I can lose
my soul if I’m not being careful?”
Monika slowly shook her head, picking at her nails.
“You can lose everything. Your humanity, compassion, sense of social,
lawful, emotional boundaries… A Livløs creature is the ultimate
manifestation of a dreadful, lethally violent, immortal monster. You can lose
yourself. And once you become a Livløs, the transformation is irreversible.”
After Monika’s less-than-subtle warning, my mind entered such a
sinister state of genuine horror, I wasn’t even bothered by the looks
everyone gave me later at lunch.
 The shock and fear didn’t leave my system in the afternoon either, but I
was determined to learn how to control my magic. I rushed straight for my
first practical exercise in evocation as soon as my phone told me it was
time. Only problem was, when I walked into the room Marcus Dahl had
mentioned last night, my bravery vanished.
The small room held a long table, two chairs and some cluttered wall
shelves. I couldn’t focus on the two women on each side of the table,
because there was a body between them – a lifeless, wide-eyed man, whose
chest wasn’t moving.
I hadn’t seen a dead body before coming to this island. Now, only five
days after my arrival, I had already seen two corpses – maybe even three, if
that man was dead – and the carcass of one animal.
My brain caught up with the idea of evocation exercises.
Learn how to control a soul, spirit and whatever. Maybe even learn how
to kill. And learn how to revive. I finally grasped the meaning of
necromancy.
In its full fucking capacity.
Death magic. Death.
My stomach turned upside down. Clasping my mouth with one hand, I
ran off, barging through the door without giving any explanation.
I ran for as long as my nausea could take it, until I paused in some
corridor, bent forward, and puked my entire lunch on the floor. The sight of
partially processed food made things even worse, and I threw up once
again. The atrocious mess was too much.
What followed next was even more repulsive.
Somehow a stumpy, grotesquely looking creature had appeared a few
footsteps away from me, pushing a wheel cart twice its size. It had four
fingers on both hands, wrapped around the cart’s handles. An unnaturally
large head, shaped like a perfect circle and covered in several strands of
grey hair, was positioned over its short body. A pair of grey eyes the size of
snow peas stared angrily at me under a set of tightly knit bushy eyebrows.
Its face had a crooked pink scar running diagonally across the nose. The
mouth was a thin, barely visible line, parted to reveal two sets of jagged
teeth.
I shrieked, stumbling backwards, and fell directly on my ass. Any pain I
was supposed to feel was numbed down by the horror rushing through my
system.
 The monstrous thing snarled under his nose, took a tube from the wheel
cart, then spilled some of its liquid contents directly over my vomit. I
watched in shock as my lunch literally got incinerated.
“Wh-aah… are… you?” I squealed in gasps.
“A house spirit,” the thing replied through gritted teeth, producing a
scraping sound.
That’s what Húsvættir looked like?
The house spirit pulled a bunch of other things from the cart. Silently, it
started scrubbing the floor. I wasn’t even able to catch my breath before it
finished cleaning my mess, then just disappeared into thin air, along with its
cart.
I spent the rest of the afternoon in my room, too scared to think what
waited for me in evocation. Or what would appear next if I vomited again.
At some point Monika returned to find me hiding in our bathroom.
“Learyn, get out,” she spoke firmly on the other side of the door.
“I like it here,” I replied and tried to put on a brave face, even though
she couldn’t see me. “It’s a really nice bathroom. The stone tile finish on the
walls gives off a SPA vibe. Think we can get a bathtub?”
“Girlie, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna kick it down.”
“I’m sick, probably ate something spoiled at lunch.”
She didn’t say anything for a few moments. I hoped my lie sounded
convincing enough.
“What happened with evocation? Did you throw up?”
A sudden wave of fury overtook me.
“Who told you?” I shouted, unlocked the door and flung it wide open.
“Who was it? Tell me their name!”
“Calm down! No one said anything. Many people can’t handle
evocation. They throw up, faint, scream, swear… A boy from my high
school even jumped out of a window…”
“The fuck?! Did he survive?”
Was this why that sleazeball Axel had joked how I was invited to his
party if I didn’t die by then?
“He’s fine,” Monika assured me, waving a hand in the air. “My point is,
we’ve seen it all. Whatever your reaction was, someone has already done
crazier stuff before you. It’ll get better in time. If it doesn’t, just don’t eat
before your evocation exercises and don’t poke at the dead flesh.”
 She put her arms around me. I immediately sensed her Sentinel magic
as it soothed my emotions. I couldn’t remember the last time I had
exchanged a hug with someone other than my aunt. It was strange, yet
somehow comforting, although I barely knew Monika.
“Your pep talk sucks,” I breathed out, returning the hug.
Despite her lack of pep talk skills, Monika came up with an awesome
idea. Over the weekend we went through lists of activities I could join to
ease into the supernatural world, and most importantly – to help me avoid
earning a reputation of a crazy, rampant murderer.
Naturally, I ruled out all parties, clubs and covens Monika suggested.
My misanthropy, short fuse and my aunt’s warning to not leave Nordstrøm
Island played a key role in my decision. The only club I agreed to was
actually a book club, and it didn’t require sneaking off the island. I had
always wrinkled my nose at the notion of joining a book club in my human
world, but Monika said Professor Geira Brekke’s one on Magiessence
would come in handy. Besides, if this woman had such an academic degree,
she probably had enough brain cells to perceive me as something more than
what everyone else thought of me.
Another unlikely idea I agreed to was checking out those lectures on
History of the Nine Realms. Finally, I accepted my roommate’s advice on
opting for a group exercise organized by Marcus Dahl next weekend, where
I would be among necromancers whose spell work was on a beginner level.
Dann Nordstrøm hadn’t mentioned anything about me using spells,
though it seemed like a useful thing to learn while I was trapped here for at
least a month, as my aunt had decided. And since I wasn’t looking forward
to joining any covens on the island, practicing with guards was my best
option.
* * *

On Monday morning, I entered a room full of people from every age group.
Professor Geira Brekke’s Magiessence Book Club was comprised of at least
fifty people, and their meeting was held in a huge drawing room – or in
whatever they called such places in medieval castles.
Dozens of armchairs, sofas and lounges were positioned in an almost
circular formation, in a way that would allow everyone to face each other.
For a second, I regretted coming. The book club meeting probably hadn’t
commenced yet since many of the seats weren’t taken. I pondered over
sneaking out before it was too late.
I had tried running away from problems by taking a year off university,
then I had literally ran from the US all the way to Northern Europe. My
twenty-first birthday was in less than a month. It was about time for me to
stop running and start acting like a grown-up.
“Learyn! Learyn Dustrikke. Come sit with me, child.”
An elderly woman was gesturing to an empty seat next to her. I
approached slowly amidst the mortifying silence that had suddenly
overtaken the room. Any chances I had of flying under the radar had
vanished because all eyes were fixed on me.
“Hello?” I said hesitantly, sitting on the sofa next to the woman.
“I’m Geira Brekke,” she spoke softly, taking my hand in hers. “We must
speak more later, but for now, let us focus on the Álfar.”
“Álfar?” I repeated the Old Norse word for elves.
“Yes – Dökkálfar, the dark elves who inhabit Midgard. We’ve been
discussing them for the past two weeks, but I’m sure you will catch up on
our club’s reading material soon.”
“How can you welcome her with open arms?”
I twisted my neck backwards to see an angry man, probably in his
sixties, who was anything but delighted by my presence. The others were
still silent, but as I quickly examined their faces, I got the confirmation
most of them weren’t fond of me being here.
“Have you seen what this girl does, Geira?”
“This girl,” I said with a caustic tone, “didn’t mean to murder anyone.
And she has no intention of doing it again.”
The man’s stormy expression was replaced by bewildered shock. He
stumbled back and quickly exited the room. Shit! Apparently, he hadn’t
known about the dead guards until I opened my big mouth.
Other book club members also headed for the door. I noticed children,
young men, women and elderly people leaving. Before I could apologize
and explain myself, Geira Brekke rose from her seat.
“If memory serves me right, this is the child of Eivind and Syverine
Dustrikke. Have you forgotten their names already? Or have you forgotten
we’re to thank the Dustrikkes for the survival of Dökkálfar? Need I remind
you of the Dark Ages for elves and necromancers alike?”
 What the hell? I had felt like the black sheep in my family when I took a
break from university. Now, hearing praise for the Dustrikkes, I wanted the
ground to open and swallow me.
On the bright side, this kind woman’s words convinced most of the ones
who were leaving to stay. I silently thanked Geira Brekke for seeing beyond
my terrifying deeds, and kept my mouth shut for the rest of the meeting,
while her book club discussed elven heritage. I didn’t know anything about
elves in general, so grasping the idea of their existence was the Mission
Impossible. If someone had switched me with Tom Cruise, even he
wouldn’t have been able to assimilate so much magical information
overnight.
By the time I entered the castle’s enormous Dining Hall for lunch, my
grey matter was an irresponsive pile of mush. Good thing it was full of
dozens of oval tables and hundreds of people, so I easily got lost in the
crowd. As I sat on an empty chair and took some Nordic rice dish with red
beets from the buffet displayed on each table, I wondered why my aunt had
sent me here.
What was my purpose as a necromancer? Fight declining population in
some part of the world? Travel the globe as a shady physic specializing in
helping her customers communicate with dead relatives?
And what was the scary thing I was running from by leaving the US?
My aunt had been so cryptic about it, she had practically thrown a 256-bit
AES encryption algorithm in my face.
Was I hiding from the wrath of gods and goddesses who didn’t like
Freya’s necromantic spawn? Or was I being haunted by Casper’s vengeful
Gjenferdet cousin? Or was some bloodthirsty monster trying to tear me to
pieces and marinate me in hot sauce for dinner? What was this unnamed
danger which had made her warn me to not leave the island under any
circumstances?
My head was spinning when I walked into the side building which
housed the training grounds in the afternoon. Today it held only a small
group of people. A familiar guard – Marcus Dahl – approached me.
“I rarely do group sessions, Miss Dustrikke, and fortunately for you,
today is one such rare occasion. You can go sit down. Watch and learn.
We’ll start practicing next time.”
Following his advice, I sat in a corner and witnessed how a dozen boys
and girls in their late teens and early twenties vanished from where they
stood, only to reappear seconds later. Well, only a few of them vanished to
pop back up here and there. The others seemed to be having an issue with
the vanishing act. Cold whiffs of air spun around the room each time
someone disappeared or reappeared.
The night my life changed from mundane to this supernatural craziness,
I had sensed the same blows of cold, breezy wind. Up until now, my head
had been too preoccupied to think about the guards’ transportation method.
Obviously, they had Apertured me here.
Ten minutes after the Aperture group exercise had kicked off, Marcus
Dahl divided everyone into couples. What followed next was a Trust Fall
exercise I was familiar with. The attendees were instructed to close their
eyes and fall into the arms of the person standing behind them. Marcus
explained it was an exercise to help them build confidence and trust the fall,
so they could apply the trust in their own reflexes during an Aperture
landing. When the Trust Fall session ended, the attendees had to practice on
their own again.
Strangely enough, I didn’t see the black smoke from two nights ago –
the one that spun in my living room before it divided in two and revealed
the two guards who’d brought me here.
“You’ll get a dismembered body, Vee!”
Marcus’ yell direction my attention to a tall, fragile-looking girl with
shoulder-length, dazzling white hair. The color of her hair heavily
contrasted with her skin. It was a mixture of ashy lilacs and deep purples,
with hints of blueish in those areas which were darkened by shadows. I
hadn’t noticed her before, probably because she was wearing a long sleeve
blazer and was exercising in a far corner. But now that I was looking at her,
I immediately remembered the purple hand from the library. It hadn’t been
an optical illusion or a refraction of light.
Staring at her in bewilderment, it took me a while to actually see
beyond her unusual appearances.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, her back was arched, shoulders slouched
forward, head lowered in a position that clearly showed she was scared. Her
fingers were stretched out in the empty air, as if she was trying to get hold
of something that wasn’t really there.
“Vee!” Marcus shouted again.
Less than a second later, her wrist disappeared into thin air. She cried
out in a high-pitched scream, which echoed over the thumps, bumps,
groans, sighs and all other noises around us.
I gawked at her, completely petrified by the unnatural sight of her
severed arm and deafened by the screams ringing in my ears. Marcus
cupped her face and whispered something. She stopped screaming, but her
roaring pain kept pounding on my eardrums. My heartbeat accelerated,
adding to the clamor inside me.
The girl named Vee whimpered, then blinked. Her hand reappeared,
perfectly attached to the rest of her arm. My eyes grew wider while she said
something and walked away, heading almost towards my direction.
I was sitting in a corner on a floor mat. The girl dropped on a mat a few
feet away from mine. Despite knowing better than to meddle in other
people’s business, I crawled to her.
“Hey, are you going to be okay?” I asked quietly.
She jumped. Her hair moved enough to reveal something pointy and
purple, protruding from the strands. An ear. Elf ear!
Frozen in my place, I watched her turn to me.
The short, snowy hair swung sideways, revealing her face. It was
tattooed with some white, branchy swirls, which started at her high
cheekbone, curved around her temple, and spread to the side of her
forehead, reaching over her eyebrow. She had big, round eyes with bright
violet irises, and just under them was a scattering of the most fascinating
type of freckles I had ever seen. They were white, almost sparkling in
contrast with her purple skin tone. I wasn’t even sure if freckles was the
correct term, because her cheeks looked like the deep abyss of the universe,
with hundreds of miniature stars shining against its dark backdrop.
So, that was what Dökkálfar looked like. I was heterosexual, but I
couldn’t stop staring at the beauty of her unusual appearances.
“F-fine,” she mumbled, then dropped her gaze to her lap.
“What happened back there?” I asked with bated breath.
“N-nothing. I’m fine.”
“Dustrikke! Don’t you dare mix with the mutt!”
I turned around, trying to locate the one who gave the order. An
unfamiliar face dripping with sweat grimaced back at me. The guy was
thirty-ish. I had no clue what he meant by calling the girl a mutt, but he had
no right to tell me what to do or who to mix with.
“Get lost!” I shouted back. “I can smell your stench all the way from
here!”
 “Mark my words, Dustrikke!”
“Focus!” Marcus Dahl’s voice echoed around the room, prompting the
guy to go back to exercising.
Vee had moved to another corner. Her knees were pressed to her chest,
arms wrapped around them. There was something in the way she looked at
the others, something I instantly recognized. It was like everyone knew who
she was, and they knew a secret about her. I guessed it was a dark secret she
didn’t want them to know, and I could tell she didn’t want to be surrounded
by these people.
I had felt the same way last year when everyone knew my ex was
cheating on me. Like my heart and soul had been exposed to the public, put
on display, where everyone who passed me by could laugh at them; laugh at
how stupid, naïve and unworthy I had been.
Unworthy and ashamed.
That was it. That was what I recognized in her.
But I had no right to stick my nose in her personal life, so I didn’t make
an attempt to go over there and talk to her. I remained in my own corner,
trying to get my ex out of my thoughts, completely forgetting about
Aperture.
Good thing my former life sucked, otherwise I would have cursed my
aunt to hell and beyond for sending me to this crazy place.
 

Northern Stream
I was standing on a tribunal, totally naked and surrounded by familiar faces
I had seen through different stages of my life. My ex-boyfriends, my former
best friend, all my other friends and acquaintances, people from high school
and university, my late parents and uncle, my aunt. Every single familiar
person I’d known in San Francisco, down to the librarians at Gleeson – all
of them were in the crowd.
The Phallus Who Shall Not Be Named stood in front of them, holding
the whore with whom he had cheated on me. He was inciting the crowd to
chant verbal abuses in my direction.
Aimless idiot. Blinded bitch. Party pooper. Naïve sucker. Punchline.
Crybaby. Depressed freak. Failure.
I felt more naked than I already was.
I felt invaded, ruined, wrecked.
I felt like I wanted to cut up every single one of them and soil the earth
with crimson quicksilver.
“Learyn!”
A distant voice called me.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember the one to whom it belonged. She
wasn’t in the crowd, but I sensed a weird sort of alleviation and
weightlessness. It was a strange sensation, like I was being swept off my
feet, rid of my emotions, and flown away from this embarrassing hell.
“Learyn, wake up!”
Suddenly, I saw myself surrounded by purple strands of hair. Monika
was gripping my shoulders, lurching over my bed. I was back in Norway.
 “What in the name of the Vanir were you dreaming about? You kept
screaming, and your emotions were blasting all over the place like a raging
tornado!”
So, the screaming and the nightmares had started again. Running away
from San Francisco was one thing; running from my past was a different
story.
“I’m sorry, Monika, I should have warned you. Sometimes I have
nightmares with The Phallus Who Shall Not Be Named, my cheating
asshole of an ex-boyfriend, and occasionally they make me scream.”
She puffed, rubbing her temples. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Your boyfriend cheated on you?”
“No, my ex-girlfriend cheated on me. With a guy.”
“That’s disgusting!”
“Me dating a girl?”
I blinked a few times, trying to push the sleepiness away. Did it sound
like I meant that?
“Of course not! I meant the girl cheating on you with a guy when she’s
in a same-sex relationship.” This type of betrayal was a hundred times
worse than the type of cheating my ex had pulled on me. At least I didn’t
have to worry about him playing for both teams. “Monika, I’m so sorry, that
must have been horrible, and here I am reminding you of it with my own
stupid drama. I promise I’ll try not to wake you again.”
She shrugged. “It’s not like you can control your dreams. But you don’t
have an issue with me being gay?”
“Why would I? Your personal life is your personal life.”
“Yeah, tell it to my parents. They still think something’s wrong with me,
and I came out years ago!”
I wanted to hug her, return the support and kindness she and her brother
had been showing me since I came here, but I was afraid my emotions
would disturb her again.
“Like I said, it’s your own life and not theirs. As long as it comes to me,
you have nothing to worry about. I promise.”
“Thanks.”
She turned off the lights and went back to sleep.
I stayed up for a while, listening to the storm outside, cringing at each
thunder disrupting the skies. I hated thunderstorms ever since one specific
stormy night when my aunt received a phone call and told me my parents
had died. It had happened eight years ago, but I still hated thunders
occurring at nighttime.
Lying awake and staring at the thick darkness in our room, I thought
about my dream. I had decided to take a year off university to cope with my
messed up subconsciousness and to learn how to outgrow my past. Nearly a
year had passed with zero progress. I seriously needed to do something
about it.
Regardless of the nightmare, I managed to fall asleep again.
The past week had been extremely exhausting, and it showed, because I
woke up late on Tuesday morning.
I slept through my first alarms. Now that they weren’t turned off, they
were repeating in intervals over and over again, finally yanking me out of
hibernation. Seeing what time it was, I jumped out of bed in a hurry. After
grabbing an empty notebook Monika had lent me, I stormed off to the
second floor, since I had decided to check out those History of the Nine
Realms lectures.
When I entered the auditorium, everyone burst into laughter.
“My apo–” My yawn interrupted my apologies. “I’m sorry for being
late, but surely that’s not the most hilarious thing on the planet.”
“Maybe not, but your outfit is!”
Some bitch on the first row of amphitheatrically aligned tables was
playing the fashion police. I peeked at said outfit, and immediately
understood why it was met by a wave of laughter.
I was wearing the PJs from last night – a set of white T-shirt and shorts
with purple sheep splattered all over them. I had forgotten to get dressed
before putting my shoes on. FML! I sincerely hoped this wasn’t one of
those freaky dreams people talked about. Squeezing my eyes shut, I
mentally repeated wake up, wake up, wake up.
But when I opened them, the laughing didn’t stop.
Shit! It wasn’t a dream.
“You can all go collectively fuck yourselves!” I proclaimed out loud.
“Preferably outside, as I don’t want to participate in an orgy.”
“Silence!”
The loud explosion of gasps, giggles and ghastly exclamations that
followed my words was outshouted by the one whose lecture I was late to.
Dann Nordstrøm in the flesh. Did I seriously have to screw up around him
all the time?
 As soon as he yelled, the whole room went dead silent. Now I stood
even more mortified than before.
“I’m late and my casual outfit isn’t appropriate, but can I please stay for
the rest of the lecture?”
Contrary to my expectations, more silence followed. Now what? Was he
going to throw me out? He took his time thinking on the subject while I
stood there like a circus animal. Was it so unbearably difficult for him to
say yes or no?
Finally, he spoke.
“If you wish so, you may stay.”
That was the plan. I wasn’t going to dart for the door because of a
wardrobe malfunction. Well, at least this type of wardrobe malfunction. It
wasn’t like I had flashed someone. And besides, my purple sheep were
badass.
I strode towards the staircase aisle, looking for an empty seat. Most of
the auditorium was taken up, but there was a spot a few rows ahead. So far
so good, except for the moment I reached the first landing. My sleepy legs
forgot how to climb. I stumbled, nearly falling face first onto the stairs,
grabbing the nearby table’s edge for support at the last second. A new wave
of giggles swept over the room.
“Silence, please!” Dann Nordstrøm’s voice restored the discipline.
I rushed to sit down, and just as I was about to sigh with relief, the
lecture attendees on both my sides decided to move seats.
The silence around me grew tormenting. I had always preferred the idea
of having someone directly telling me to fuck off rather than having them
hide what they really thought about me.
“Can everyone please return their attention to the interactive board?
Good. Now that you’ve all settled down, let’s continue from where we left
off – connections between Midgard and the other realms. Contrary to what
Marvel movies will tell you, the Bifröst Bridge doesn’t act as a no-
speeding-limit highway.”
Some chuckles escaped from here and there. They had nothing in
common with the mocking laughter from earlier.
“Yes, yes, I know you all love Thor and The Avengers. Let’s get back to
historical facts.”
Maksim hadn’t been exaggerating. I had to give it to him, His
Excellency was indeed an excellent lecturer. He explained everything in a
no-brainer way even newbies like me who’d never heard of necromancy
before – or studied Norse mythology for that matter – would understand.
Moreover, he actually engaged with his audience, unlike some professors
I’d seen in San Francisco. The kind, who rattled off their lessons without
giving a rat’s ass about who sat across them. The same ones who didn’t care
that faster learning did depend, to some extent, on a teacher’s approach
towards students.
This guy was the opposite. He engaged with everyone, made jokes,
walked around, asked questions, and drew on the interactive whiteboard
behind him. And as he talked while clicking through images and graphics,
he didn’t deliver the lecture in the boring, slumber-inducing monotone
voice I expected to hear.
History had never been my favorite subject growing up. Still, there was
something about the way he explained how the links between the realms
worked that made it more than bearable. Enjoyable, even.
“Thank you. This will be all for today. I’ve given you enough food for
thought, and if you have any questions, we’ll discuss them next Tuesday.”
Either I had been extremely late or the lecture had truly been pleasant,
but I didn’t even notice how quickly it was over. While making my way
towards the door, I heard a loud and clear command.
“Miss Dustrikke, I’d like a word with you.”
Fuck! I waited for everyone to leave before stepping onto the raised
podium which held His Excellency’s desk. Well, at least this time I hadn’t
killed someone, insulted his family’s motto, or transformed the island’s
fauna into Draugar.
He studied me from head to toe. It made me uncomfortable, especially
because I was still in my PJs, but I refused to yield to his arctic stare. He
had unnaturally light blue eyes, the color that resembled a crystal clear sky
on a truly rare San Franciscan day. No clouds, no mist, no storms brewing
on the horizon. Pale, icy blue eyes that locked with mine for what seemed
to be the most prolonged second in the history of mankind.
And then the world unraveled around me.

I was standing in what was supposed to be a spacious hall, or at least it had

been once before.
Erosion had struck the stony walls, demolishing them to nothing more
than crumbled ruins. They laid bleak and barren in hues of fading greys.
Jagged outlines of damaged columns spanned up to an open sky, devoid of
stars. A pale crescent moon barely illuminated its onyx darkness, shedding
light on a thinning haze.
My eyes swayed down as I stepped onto something hard and uneven – a
serrated piece of rock, chipped off the marbled tiles. Messy blue-ish
patterns covered the icy floor, like human veins running under its surface. I
shuddered at the sight of ebony trees protruding from the ground. The trees
were dead. They shouldn’t have been able to break through the stone.
I navigated my way across the ruins carefully, diving deeper into the
remains of a dead world.
Until it wasn’t dead anymore.
Eerie tones flew past my ears. A haunting rock ballad, coming from
somewhere ahead. I braved the freezing temperatures and kept walking. A
man and a woman, locked in a tight embrace, appeared out of the blue and
spun around me, stirring the cold air. I barely saw their formal clothes
before they disappeared. Just as I wondered if they had been some crazy
mirage, created by my imagination, another couple broke through the haze.
More and more people manifested before my shocked stare, all of whom
were waltzing. Trying to tell mirages from reality, my eyes lingered on the
formal suits and puffy dresses. Torn and battered, they revealed naked flesh.
Rotten, flaky, decomposing flesh.
The horrified gasp that escaped my throat was accompanied by a cloud
of warm breath, which intertwined with the mist and disappeared, as if it
was sucked in it. A sinister thought rushed through my mind – the haze was
sucking away my life, like it had sucked away theirs.

I gasped for air, writhing like an aspen twig.

The haze had disappeared, as had the ruins and the waltzing corpses. I
was standing in front of that desk, staring at Dann Nordstrøm’s creepily
intense look.
“What the fuck was that?” I whispered, tremulous and horrified by the
lingering aftertaste of what I had just experienced.
“What was what exactly? And please mind your language.”
“That! The… the ruins and the corpses, the music and… everything!”
His features darkened in a furrowing grimace, contrasting with the
bright blue stare tearing through me. Intrusive and intimidating, his eyes
made me shiver again.
 “You were there!” I exclaimed when he didn’t say anything. “You were
there with me all the time!”
“I never stood from my chair, Miss Dustrikke, and you never left this
room.”
My mouth fell open. I peeked over my shoulder to see nothing more
than rows of tables and empty chairs, stacked neatly in their ascending
formation. I could swear on the creator of the Python programming
language, moments ago we had both been in that dreadful, gothic, post-
apocalyptic excuse of a ruined hall.
“You were right behind me in that place!”
“Neither of us left the room.”
So, I had… a hallucination, or something? A vision? Was it even
possible? Did necromancers have visions? Omens? Predictions about the
future? Past lives? What was going on?
Judging by this guy’s pensive stare and refusal to acknowledge how it
could have been real, there was no point in asking him for answers. I’d have
to deal with it the way I dealt with everything else – on my own.
“Forget about it. Why did you ask me to stay behind?”
“You came late to my lecture. In up to five days from now, you must
report the material you missed back to me.”
“Why?” I asked in confusion.
“Believe it or not, Miss Dustrikke, I don’t give lectures out of a need to
bask in the glorious timbre of my voice. I like it when my audience grasps
my words, therefore I’d like to make sure you’re up to speed in case you’re
planning on attending.”
Glorious timbre, my ass! Although I didn’t get whiffs of cigarette stench
coming off him, his gravelly voice sounded like his throat was sore from
smoking at least two packs a day.
“What’s the point of attending? I thought this wasn’t a school.”
“There are schools for necromancers, but Nordstrøm Island isn’t one.
The points of my lectures are many. For once, they provide an opportunity
for all island residents to socialize. As you might have noticed, I encourage
my audience to engage in debates and express their opinion on the
discussed material. The lectures also provide us with a way to explore and
preserve our history. Of course, some individuals simply attend them for the
purpose of learning about the Nine Realms. I don’t claim to be the greatest
historian Midgard has seen, but I do consider myself well-educated on these
matters.”
I barely withheld the eye-rolling. Maksim had said this guy had taught
in two institutions. Apparently, they had given him annoying confidence.
“Fine, I’ll consider attending. If I have to report back with the missed
material, will you be available on Saturday?”
“Probably. May I ask why you chose Saturday?”
I smiled wryly. “Because I need a few days to stop hyperventilating
over your voice’s glorious timbre.” His eyebrows shot up. “Duh, I need
time for proper research!”
He let out a sudden laughter, which echoed through the empty room.
The same raspy, velar notes from last Sunday, when he’d laughed at my
opinion on his family’s motto while he was lurking in the shadows. Those
very same unexpected, startling sounds that felt like they grated against my
skin in the most uncomfortable way possible, filling me up with
embarrassment and anger.
I clenched my teeth, trying not to give him a piece of my mind.
Dick.
“Yes, you can come see me on Saturday afternoon at six. I recommend
starting your research with the Norwegian edition of Seppo Koskinen’s
Midgard and Beyond, volume one. You’ll find the book in Section RB1 in
the library.”
I bolted for the door before he could take up any more of my time.
“And one final thing.” I had to turn back just when I reached the
threshold. “Please don’t forget to take care of your purple sheep before
lunch. I highly doubt everyone in the Dining Hall will take them as lightly
as I did.”
Once again – dick.
* * *

Due to yet another one of my messes, I had to attend something mandatory

– a meeting with the Elemental mentor the Council had assigned to me. I
didn’t know his or her name, like I didn’t know the Council, but I couldn’t
argue with authority if it meant learning how not to increase my murder
count.
Unsure of what to expect, I opted for a light lunch, ate quickly, and
braced myself for my next dose of necromantic magic.
 To my surprise, the room Raisa at Administration had pointed me to
was devoid of human presence. It held two desks with a chair behind each
one, and another interactive whiteboard. For a place that wasn’t an
educational or business institution, two boards in the same day seemed too
much.
The Elemental practitioner, who walked in a few minutes after me, wore
a black guard’s uniform.
“Dustrikke!” He barked my name, sitting directly on top of the nearest
desk. “My name is Christof Brühl. I’ve been appointed as your Elemental
mentor.”
“Oookay,” I replied, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
Even with the white streaks in his greyish brown hair and the face of a
man who was well into his sixties, he looked and sounded more
intimidating than any of the other guards. He was even larger than Maksim
Larsen; and while Monika’s brother had a boyish smile, this Brühl guy
stared at me like I had eaten his lunch.
“Which of your elements broke out first – air, water, earth or fire?”
“Um, neither of them.”
“Neither?! You created a Draug in front of everyone!”
“Well, it was by accident, so I can’t do it again, and I don’t know how
Elemental magic works, because I was raised as a human. Whenever my
magic supposedly broke out, it happened without me knowing, because my
family had a suppression spell put on me.”
“Scheisse!”
I had heard the swear word he spat in movies.
“Are you German?”
Brühl nodded, knit his eyebrows together, jumped off the desk, and
walked to the whiteboard. He scribbled an uneven circle on it, then another
circle inside the first one. Then he drew four smaller ones around the
largest. First he pointed to the biggest circle, then to the four ones around it.
“This is you. These are the four elements. You must learn how to
control them.”
Brute and vague, the drawing was a reflection of his words.
“How?”
“On a subatomic level,” he pointed to the small circle inside the big
one, “which is this thing here.”
“I don’t understand.”
 “During your Tuesdays and Thursdays with me you will tap into your
eitr core. You will reach for your magic, which runs on a subatomic level,
and you will learn how to control it. Go sit down and cleanse your mind.”
Confused, I looked away from the board and scanned his face.
“Go sit today, Dustrikke!”
Over the course of the following hours he shouted, cursed and ordered
me around. For whatever reason, I couldn’t cleanse my mind, disregard the
world around me, rid myself of my human nonsense or do any of the other
things he yelled.
Maybe that was why I couldn’t make the small booklet he placed in
front of me levitate freely in the air, like he wanted to. After a while, all I
wanted was to grab said book and hit him with it instead of tap into my core
and call forth the air element, so I could make it fly.
His improvised teaching methods were so unnerving, they made me
wonder if he’d ever mentored someone before me, because it sure didn’t
seem like it.
Fruitless, our Elemental session finally ended.
Too tired and irritated to deal with a bunch of necromancers shooting
me curious or scared glances, I skipped the standard dinner hours. Opting
for food later, when the Dining Hall would be less crowded, was a safer
choice.
As if this day couldn’t get any worse, there were groups of chatty
people scattered in the corridor leading to my room. Staring at my shoes, I
walked past them, and proceeded to my bedroom’s door quietly, until two
girls behind me broke out in laughter.
“Oh, Cinderella! Don’t forget to report downstairs for kitchen duty. You
know, where your place is.”
The words were spoken in English. Not in Bokmål, not in Nynorsk, not
in Old Norse. Plain English.
Despite my better judgement, I turned. An unfamiliar girl stood on an
open-door threshold leading to the room across mine. By her side was none
other, but the same blonde I had seen after my Draug incident, clinging to
His Excellency. The stunningly beautiful girl who’d been glaring at me so
furiously that night, she made Brühl’s scolding stare seem like a loving
gaze.
The blonde opened her mouth, speaking once again in English, and
what came out of it made some of the others giggle.
 “Do make sure the silver-plated glass is polished to perfection.”
She waved off, as if to dismiss me, and turned to her friend.
I had heard all sorts of crap before, especially during my gothic phase in
high school – from Morticia Addams to Living Dead Girl – but this was
definitely something new.
Heatwaves of annoyance rushed through me. This entire day had been
testing my nerves since the moment I woke up. Christof Brühl, Dann
Nordstrøm and the people at his lecture had abused my short fuse so
profoundly, I simply couldn’t keep it together any longer.
“Hey, bimbo!” I said loud and clear, also in English. “What did you just
call me?”
Everyone immediately shut up.
The blonde turned in a slow and graceful, almost pirouette-like twirl. A
remarkable feat, having in mind she was impossibly tall. She was sticking a
head above me, and her boots’ heels weren’t even half the height of my
stilettos. As if her height and pretty face weren’t enviable enough, her
curvaceous hourglass-type body was making me turn green.
“Cinderella,” she repeated with a smile, cocking her head to the side,
making her long, sleek hair and perfect bangs dance around her face. She
had to be close to my age, but damn, no amount of makeup and high heels
could help me achieve her beauty. “Aren’t you the one who came from that
American fisherman village?”
Was this bitch for fucking real?
“San Francisco is not a fisherman village,” I snarled through gritted
teeth, “and my name is not Cinderella.”
“What was it that they named you, then? Ash? Cinders?”
“Dust,” I nearly spat out the word.
“Yeah, my version’s way more poetic.”
My last nerve string was about to snap, and she was dangerously
marching all over it. And how the hell did she know such details about
where I came from or what my Americanized name had been?
“Fuck off, blondie, or my next Draug is coming after you!”
“Didn’t Mommy and Daddy teach you to never make empty threats
before they took a dirt nap six feet under?”
That was it! Bitch was going down!
I let out a battle cry and plunged myself in her direction with the
intension of strangling her with bare hands. She did something wavy with
her fingers, swirling them through the air, and fireworks of emerald sparks
erupted from her hot pink nails.
In the blink of an eye, I hit an invisible wall. My inertia automatically
sent me flying backwards, until I fell a few feet away flat on my ass.
Grunting like a primitive animal, I got back on my feet, ready for another
round.
Someone grabbed me by the waist and pulled me from behind.
“Calm down, Learyn!” Monika’s voice rang in my ear.
“Let me go!” I growled, half-swinging, half-rowing with my hands
through the air as Monika kept dragging me away from the bimbo. “I’ll tear
off her hair extensions and strangle her with them!”
“My perfect hair is perfectly natural, thank you very much,” the bitch
drawled, still smiling.
Before I could test the natural hair theory, Monika managed to drag me
all the way back into our room, shut the door, and bar it with her body like a
living shield.
“You need to learn how to behave around her!”
“Who the hell does she think she is?”
“Aurora,” Monika puffed out the name with a tone that hinted I should
have known better.
“Like the Disney princess?”
“Like the northern lights, Aurora Borealis.”
I almost tore down my blouse, furiously taking it off.
“Yeah, sure, that makes more sense! She’s too big of a bitch to be a
Disney princess. Why is she giving orders like she owns the freaking
place?”
“Because she literally owns the place. Well, her family does. She’s
Aurora Nordstrøm, Hallvard’s niece and Dann’s sister.”
Whoa! Why did Aurora Nordstrøm act like she loathed me more than I
loathed the emotional wreck I had become after my ex?
“Fuck,” I muttered, realizing it was going to be nearly impossible to
overcome my problem with authority around the annoying Nordstrøm
siblings and a scowling mentor like Brühl. “Is she the resident Queen Bitch
or something?”
“Not really. Did you do something to provoke her?”
“No, I saw her once, in the crowd during the whole Draug thing.”
“Are you sure?”
 “Yes! I saw her only for a second. She was looking at me like I was her
nemesis. She can’t hate me so much just because I accidentally caused a
scene in her home! Okay, I’ve caused more than one scene. But your
brother said it himself, emotional outbursts here often lead to destructive
magical outbursts.”
Monika frowned, picking at her nails.
“I came out of our room only after hearing your voice through the door,
but it looked like you knew each other well enough to have years’ worth of
rivalry, which is impossible. You mentioned you hadn’t known of the
supernatural world’s existence up until last Sunday, right?”
“Yeah, and that’s when I saw her glower for the first time!”
“Trust me, it would take a lot more than an accidental Draug to make
Aurora take such interest in someone.”
I wondered if Monika had had a crush on Aurora at some point to say
that, but it wasn’t my place to meddle in her personal affairs.
“Oh, which reminds me – we have a meeting with the Council
tomorrow. I’ll come get you before dinner.”
I grimaced, grabbed a towel, and headed for the bathroom, hoping a hot
shower would ease the strain on my insanely short fuse.
* * *

The next day, I got up early and spent hours in the library, mumbling all
sorts of keywords in the hopes of finding a book to explain my
hallucination with Dann Nordstrøm and those corpses.
Not a single book responded to my call. Frustrated, I had to admit
defeat. I’d been deprived of sleep, my brain had been flooded with insane
amounts of supernatural information, and I’d kept reading creepy stuff
before bed. Naturally, I had lost it for a little while, and my poor brain had
fallen prey to insanity. It was all there was to it. A hallucination, triggered
by my crazy surroundings.
As I headed for lunch, I faced a brand-new problem – one which had
had the decency to leave me alone. Up until now.
“Hey, baby.” The sleazy voice preceded a sleazy arm that curled around
my elbow. It was Maksim’s friend, Axel. “Heard you tried to take down
Aurora yesterday.”
“Don’t call me baby,” I hissed the words, jerking away from him.
“So feisty! The things we can do together!”
 I quickly headed for a few empty chairs. Only problem was, Axel sat
next to me. I decided to be crystal clear, because he was obviously slow
when it came down to figuring female signals.
“Go away. I’m not interested in dating or fucking you, and I won’t
change my mind. Ever!”
He whistled in amusement.
“Straight to the point, huh? But sex magic is groundbreaking,
Dustrikke. You can’t begin to imagine the things we can do together, two
Elementals of our lineage. I’ll rock your world so hard, you’ll–”
I shoved him aside, knocking him off the chair.
Jumping up, I glanced around, attempting to locate Maksim, and saw
his head protruding from the others on a nearby table. Pretending I couldn’t
see or hear the rest of the people in the room, I marched off, tapped Maksim
on the shoulder, and glared at him from above.
He grinned. “Oh, hi!”
“Don’t Hi me!” I retorted, lowering my voice. “If I remember correctly,
you were going to tell your buddies to back off. If you don’t keep a leash on
Axel, I can’t promise I won’t kill him and transform him into a new Draug
next time he decides to use his little head for thinking!”
He caught my wrist and pulled me down. “Don’t go telling people about
more Draugar after you made a Draug in front of everyone.”
It didn’t sound like a threat. His expression and tone were genuinely
concerned. Too bad concerned looks didn’t work on me.
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
I yanked my arm free and walked out of the Dining Hall.
All afternoon long, my head exploded with remarks my former
“friends” in San Francisco had made about me.
You’re being childish. Get over it. You’ve become depressed and
aimless. People have real problems, so stop acting like yours are the end of
the world.
But it was impossible. I simply couldn’t outgrow everything that had
happened. I was about to turn twenty-one in less than a month, and I still
couldn’t start acting like a grown-up. As if my state of mind wasn’t already
screwed, now the need to learn how to become mature was even more
pressing than ever before.
Because in this world, the supernatural world, heartbreak and
embarrassment held little to no weight compared to real problems.
 Hours later, Monika entered our room while I was reading about dark
elves for Geira Brekke’s book club. She carried a backpack and half a
dozen books in both hands.
“What’s all this?” I asked suspiciously while she took more books from
the backpack, then threw everything on her bed. “Are we robbing the
library or something?”
“Long story. Why are you here instead of practicing your evocation
with Patricia Svensson? I went looking for you, but she told me you missed
your scheduled exercise today.”
“That’s also a long story.”
Fortunately for me, despite making a face, she ended the subject there
without pressing for an explanation. I gladly returned the favor.
* * *

On our way to the Council meeting, I tried to remember all turns, hallways
and stairs we passed. The castle was humongous. Finally stopping at what
seemed to be the ninth floor, I ran my hands through my hair in an attempt
to make myself presentable.
We entered a spacious room, lit by candelabras and a fireplace.
The soft ambient light contrasted heavily with the blueish grey walls
and the long, ebony black table positioned across us. Nine people were
sitting behind it, lined in a perfect row. The one in the middle took a long,
deep and wheezing breath when we entered. He had the older facial features
and same shade of sandy blond hair as his younger counterpart, who was on
his left – Dann Nordstrøm. I guessed that was his uncle, Hallvard.
“Good evening, Miss Larsen, Miss Dustrikke,” the man greeted us, but
looked only at Monika.
Anxiety, worry and guilt completely overtook my system.
“Please don’t be angry with Monika! My family kept the existence of
the supernatural world a secret from me, and I learned about it the same
night I spoke the conjuration. Before the guards brought me here, my aunt
hadn’t told me anything. Monika explained as much as she could, but she
couldn’t cover everything over the course of a few days. The fault for the
Draug incident, and the one when I murdered your guards, should fall fully
on me. Monika couldn’t have known–”
The elderly woman sitting on Hallvard’s right lifted her hand, palm
facing us, in an unambiguous gesture for me to shut up. If I had to guess her
age, she was a centenarian.
“Miss Dustrikke,” she said quietly, “Monika has already faced the
consequences of her actions.”
“What?!” I looked up at Monika, who was staring at her feet. “That’s
crazy! You can’t punish her for my actions! I was the one who couldn’t take
control of my magic! She didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Our decision on Miss Larsen is final.” Hallvard spoke this time. Now it
looked like he was trying not to breathe, even though his face had taken a
reddish hue. What was even stranger, was how he was talking to me without
looking in my direction even once. “This meeting is for you, Miss
Dustrikke.”
“I’ll take whatever punishment you’ve prepared for me, but please leave
Monika out of it.”
“Our decision is final,” he repeated bluntly. “Based on the incidents and
your behavior from Christof Brühl’s report, the Council has voted in favor
of giving you an Eitrhals.”
Monika gasped loudly. Hallvard took something out of his coat and
placed it on the table. It was a small, narrow box, resembling those
luxurious pen boxes sold as gifts.
“What’s an Eitrhals?”
Instead of answering my question, he opened the box and took out a
silver necklace with a small pendant, shimmering in similar silvery hues.
“You will wear it at all times and never take it off, including in your
sleep.”
The literal translation my mind produced didn’t give me an answer
either. Eitrhals – eitr essence and throat. Was it something to suppress
magic? That’s what it had to be! After all, I made a monstrous undead
creature, murdered guards, and didn’t show any Elemental progress with
my asshole of a mentor. It was too obvious.
“And if I refuse to wear it?” I asked, crossing arms over my chest.
There was no way I’d put some magical sparkly shit on my neck to bind
my magic just because these people said so.
“You will wear it,” Hallvard pressed, “wherever you go, and whatever
you do.”
My eyes drifted to his Council members. Every single one of them,
apart from his nephew, looked ancient. I only hoped they weren’t as
conservative as this guy in the middle.
 “Okay, listen, Brühl’s attitude might have worked if he was Hans
Gruber, but no newbie necromancer would be able to work magical
miracles under his methods! He doesn’t even speak, he barks! First you
want to give me protection, then you punish me because I can’t control
something I just discovered I have inside me. It’s not right. You can’t bind
my magic or take it away, or whatever that fucking necklace does!”
“Outrageous act–”
“Language!”
“How dare you–”
The room exploded with turmoil. I realized way too late that I had
dropped an F bomb. Before I could apologize, Hallvard spoke again,
silencing the others. And he was still refusing to look at me!
“Christof Brühl is one of the most powerful Elemental practitioners on
this island. You will continue your sessions with him, and you will wear the
Eitrhals. The Council has agreed to it. We cannot endanger the lives of our
residents any further by risking you summoning a demonic entity or
transcending into a Livløs state.”
I clenched my teeth, preventing myself from uttering another swear
word. The functions in his brain obviously had a faulty code. Otherwise
how the hell would he think I’d want to summon a demonic entity? I didn’t
even know demonic entities were real, let alone how summoning spells
worked.
“The Eitrhals neither takes away your magic, nor binds it; it helps you
control it,” some other man stated vaguely. “You must never take it off until
you are ready to do so. Rest assured, we will know if you rebel against our
decision. Miss Larsen, please take the Eitrhals and escort Miss Dustrikke
out. This meeting is over.”
Monika obeyed silently. I did the same – as far as they knew.
Once we were back in our room, I double-checked the door was shut,
then turned to her. “What happened in there? When did you see the Council
without me? What did they do to you as punishment?”
She rolled her eyes with a sigh.
“They made me listen to my mother’s stupid plans for my future. It’s
not like I haven’t heard the same plans before, and I’m not going to do her
bidding anyway, so don’t worry about it.”
“Your mother?”
“Johanna Larsen. She’s the right hand of Hallvard Nordstrøm.”
 “That woman was your mother? But she’s like…”
I trailed off, not wanting to insult Monika or her mother’s looks. Since
necromancers lived much longer than humans, they probably still
reproduced after hitting one-hundred-and-fifty.
“I’m so not wearing whatever that Eitrhals shit is! I’ll look up the best
jewelry forger in Scandinavia and get a duplicate if I have to.”
But Monika wasn’t listening.
She was staring at the Eitrhals like it was one of those hypnotizing
pendulums. I ran up to her, eyeing the necklace while she held it against the
chandelier.
The chain was silvery and thin, like a spider’s cobweb. There was a
small jewel hanging from it – hexagonal, oblong and sparkly, similar in
color to the chain, but translucent. After a closer examination, it turned out
the jewel wasn’t quite as transparent as I initially thought. Various shades of
silver twisted and turned inside it, almost dancing, as they were chasing the
chandelier lights’ refractions.
“I’ve only read about these, but never seen one in person,” Monika
whispered. “It contains pure eitr, which strengthens all of its bearer’s spells,
because it makes mustering your own core’s eitr into the spell more…
controllable. You could say it acts like a conductor and a battery all in one.
Many alchemists have tried to replicate it into elixirs. So far, the best
potions and amulets have acted only for a few hours. This thing here is the
real deal.”
“Then why would the Council want me to wear it?”
“I can only think of two reasons. For starters, you can never become a
Livløs with it.”
“And the second?”
“They said you’ll wear it until you’re ready. Maybe they meant until
you properly develop your skills and learn how to control your magic?”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they give something so
powerful to me? I don’t see them running around and sticking these things
into every other necromancer’s hands.”
“You’re a Dustrikke.”
“Yeah, a magically challenged and mentally unstable Dustrikke.”
“No, smartass, I meant you’re a direct descendant of Linnea Dustrikke.
There aren’t many Dustrikke family members left in this day and age, so it
makes sense for them to want to protect you. Besides, you’re a Class Five
sorceress.”
“I’m a what?”
“You’re a Class Five necromancer, otherwise you wouldn’t have been
able to create a Draug. It’s the highest level of necromancy a caster can
reach. Having such powers means you’re at a greater risk of losing control
over your eitr and ending up as a Livløs, because you can shoot for more
powerful spells and complex magic than most casters.”
“How can I be so powerful? I don’t even know what I’m doing.”
“I never said you’ve mastered your Class Five powers, just that you
have the potential to reach them. Honestly, I’m a bit envious. It would take
a miracle for me to come close to your abilities. Max is exceeding at
everything, but even he can’t perform magic beyond a Class Four caster’s
arsenal.”
And just like that, the weight of carrying my last name became heavier.
I used to think getting over my stupid human drama was my biggest
problem. Now it seemed superfluous and naïve. Clasping the Eitrhals on my
neck, I hurried to the bathroom mirror.
The same green-eyed, black-haired girl was staring back at me. The
same rebellious, childish and problematic girl. I had to grow up, and I had
to do it fast.
“Monika?” I asked, staring at the necklace’s reflection. “What’s the deal
with that Council? Why does Hallvard need them?”
Her groan traveled through the bathroom’s open door.
“It’s a really long story, and I’m too exhausted to stay awake. We’ll talk
more tomorrow. Nighty-night.”
My stomach rumbled painfully. With one final look in the mirror, I spun
on my heels and headed for the Dining Hall, determined to face my
insecurities and start growing up right this instant.
* * *
The next day, I went to see the one who couldn’t say my name without
barking it. For the first time in a while, I was positive I could actually
prevent my overemotional outbursts.
Whether it was the idea that I was wearing an Eitrhals, or the practice of
my Pilates breathing techniques, I succeeded in not letting Brühl get the
best of me.
 Only problem was, while I remained focused and calm, I didn’t produce
any magic at all. He shouted a few times, mumbled things in German under
his nose, and circled around the room like a wild animal locked inside a
cage. At one point, he even threatened me with some tests.
“We will not work on another element before you master the air! How
will you pass your tests with the other verdammte Kinder then, hmm?”
“What tests?”
“The Council will test your evocation and Elemental magic in January,
the same way they test every young necromancer on the island at the
beginning of each calendar year.”
“I won’t even be here in January. My aunt meant for me to stay on the
island only for a month.” At least according to His Excellency’s words,
because she hadn’t had the decency to tell me. “She said she’ll take care of
some business before following me here, and then we’ll probably leave.”
“It doesn’t matter. Cleanse your mind and focus.”
“Why does the Council test the island’s residents? Why is there a
Council, anyway? What do they do, apart from giving orders?”
“You will stop asking questions and abide by their rules. Now cleanse
your mind!”
“My mind is clean.”
“Nonsense!”
But my mind really was clean and focused. Besides, I was wearing the
Council’s magical artefact. And my emotions were in check. I wasn’t even
irritated by Brühl.
In spite of it all, I still couldn’t take control over the air around us and
make the book levitate. I couldn’t make it slide with a single inch, let alone
keep it flying above the desk.
“Don’t you have any tips for me?” I asked after a while. “You know,
like how do other Elementals do it when they’re starting out?”
“Every necromancer is different.”
I rolled my eyes and scoffed.
“Don’t scoff at me! What did I say? Cleanse your mind of emotions and
focus on your subatomic level!”
“I’m doing it; I’m even focusing on the Eitrhals!”
“Nein!” He clasped his hands on the desk with a loud bang, which made
me jump in the chair. So much for being calm and in control. “Not the
Eitrhals! You! Focus on yourself! The Eitrhals won’t do anything before
you tap into your core!”
“Well, maybe instead of blaming me, you should have said that from the
beginning!” I snapped back. “I hadn’t even heard of Eitrhals necklaces
before getting this one. Oh, by the way, the Council didn’t tell me how it
works, so how was I supposed to guess it?”
“Read!” He outshouted my childish whining, then pointed to the door.
“Gehst! Go!”
My jaw fell. “Are you kicking me out?”
“Go read, Dustrikke!”
“Are you serious? What am I supposed to read?”
“Everything!”
With that, he Apertured himself out of the room.
How could the Council appoint Brühl as my mentor? He was incapable
of teaching me anything. He was incapable of speaking with a normal tone!
How could anyone work with him?
Was Hallvard Nordstrøm out of his fucking mind? Maybe he was. Or
maybe he just thought I was a disgrace to the Dustrikke name, and he
couldn’t stand me, since he obviously couldn’t even look me in the eye.
Whatever my aunt was trying to protect me from, I hoped it was worth
it. This place was batshit crazy.
I couldn’t go for a drive to clear my head because I was on a freaking
island, and my car was back in California. I couldn’t even take a stroll in
the courtyards because there was a storm outside, and I still couldn’t
influence the weather with my Elemental magic.
I wanted to talk to Monika, ask her what it had been like for her when
she had started learning how to control her powers.
Well, only a small part of me did. She was nice and didn’t treat me
differently just because I was clueless or because I was a Dustrikke.
Another part of me didn’t want to burden her with my troubles exactly for
this reason. And the final part was too scared to open up to another person.
Speaking about the stuff going through my head had resulted in alienating
my friends in California.
My roommate was a no-show anyway, and I was glad she wasn’t
anywhere to be seen at dinner. When I didn’t find her in our room later than
evening, I tore a sheet of paper from the notebook she had lent me, placed it
on my bed, sat next to it, and tried to focus on the air.
 After playing Snake with the sheet of paper for half an hour, I finally
gave up. I was going to leave the books on Elemental magic for the
weekend. But for the rest of tonight, I decided to put effort into something
more pleasant – my reading material for the Magiessence book club.
* * *
My determination to act like a grown-up fully disappeared on Friday when I
skipped another appointed evocation exercise.
The following day, I climbed one of the many towers in the castle.
Kudos to my Pilates instructor for keeping me in shape for years,
because climbing the spiraled staircase to the top felt like an attempt to
reach Mount Everest. I had no clue if it was so brutally challenging for
others, but I barely made it up top without lung failure. Proceeding with
shaky knees and trying to catch my breath, I entered an oval room, which
left me more breathless than before.
Futons and ottoman seats, low sofas, armchairs and footstools were
scattered in the perfectly oval room, surrounding four low, rectangular
tables. Flowerpots with leafy flora added to the coziness, while sheer white
floor-length curtains partially obstructed four humongous windows built
into the oval walls. My gaze drifted to the ceiling. It spanned for at least
five yards above my head. Wooden beams and girders supported it, and
numerous clambering plants were winding around them, leisurely hanging
from the dark browns.
If it hadn’t been for the half a dozen people around me, and Marcus
Dahl, this tower would have offered the perfect relaxing getaway.
Monika wasn’t here, but I silently thanked her for telling me about these
weekend exercises with the guard. When he instructed us to take seats, I
saw Vee – the dark elf girl – who was the only one sitting away from the
others.
“Come here, Dustrikke.” My eyes met the familiar face of that asshole
who had called Vee a mutt on the training grounds. “Let the mutt stay in her
corner.”
“Now, now, Mr. Aagard,” Marcus derailed my intention of giving him a
piece of my mind, “you know how I feel about you using offensive terms
for hybrids.”
Hybrid? Did she have… necromantic genes? It explained the mutt
comment. After all, Monika had said the island provided shelter for many
types of creatures, not just necromancers. Since Vee was attending a group
practice on casting spells, she had to have witch DNA mixed with elven
one.
Instead of joining the rest, I headed straight for Vee’s table. If the others
wanted to show herd mentality by following Aagard’s bullying, I wasn’t
going to go make friends with them. As I sat down, the girl withdrew to a
futon on the other end of the table. The shadows she hid within cast blueish
hints to her purple skin tone.
Assholes, I thought to myself, as I was once again awestruck by her
unique beauty.
Marcus distracted me from my anger by placing dark piles of something
pointy in front of each of us. Dry tree branches?
“What has been broken can be pieced back together, and what has been
damaged can be healed,” he explained in an even, almost sleep-inducing
tone.
The last time I tried to fix something broken and heal it, I made an
undead creature that attacked another person in front of everyone.
“You will use the healing incantation Helbrede.”
The guard made us practice on dead wood all morning. Some of the
others managed to stop the decaying process. Two necromancers even
succeeded in salvaging the entire thing. And then there were those like me,
who didn’t do anything, apart from repeat the incantation like a broken
record.
As it turned out, knowing a magical word didn’t mean uttering it would
automatically produce a magical effect.
“Ah, Miss Dustrikke.” Marcus clicked his tongue after seeing my lack
of results. “I expected more from a natural-born Elemental. Let’s try again,
shall we?”
“Helbrede,” I said quietly, trying to put every single thought into the
dead piece of wood, but nothing happened.
“Concentrate and try again.”
“Helbrede,” I repeated. Nada.
“Concentrate. Let the eitr flow through you like a stream.”
Once again – nada. The Eitrhals pendant, hanging under my clothes, felt
much heavier than it really was.
“Mr. Aagard, why don’t you give it a try?”
 He had already transformed most of his dry branches into healthy-
looking ones – smooth and leafy, as if they were freshly cut from the tree.
Marcus touched one of them, and my heart went into a savage, rapid
rhythm. The deep green-colored leaves turned to yellow, then brown,
shriveled and slowly disappeared, leaving behind a fully naked branch.
Once fresh and smooth, the wood darkened, cracked, and shrank down to a
chipped, crooked, completely lifeless twig. Stunned and immobilized, I saw
decades’ worth of decaying unravel before my eyes over the course of a few
wild heartbeats.
“Helbrede.”
I had watched the guard’s deadly touch, wide-eyed and not daring to
blink even for a second. Now, I witnessed the life and growth from
Aagard’s spell take its place, erasing all traces of withering and decay, until
Marcus’ deed was completely reversed.
Magic. It was pure magic.
“Outstanding work,” Marcus praised him before turning to the others.
I couldn’t do anything with my twigs for the rest of our exercise. All the
confidence and determination I had decided on building vanished. The
guard instructed the ones who didn’t do so outstandingly to take their
branches and practice on them.
I kept my head low during lunch, and while eating in breaks, I tried to
practice on a twig. Despite wearing the Eitrhals, I couldn’t make my magic
flow through me.
Filled with annoyance, embarrassment and a fear of failing, I
impatiently waited for the afternoon to pass. In view of my stint on
Tuesday, I had to keep it together and not screw up with the material I had
missed from Dann Nordstrøm’s lecture.
When I entered his auditorium, he perched an eyebrow. Was he not
expecting me? I was sure I hadn’t gotten the day wrong.
“No purple sheep today, Miss Dustrikke?”
Did he have to remind me? I took a deep breath and bit back the bad,
bad word I was planning on pronouncing. If I kept going like this, I was
going to have to go browsing for Zen self-help books soon.
“Professor... or is it Mister? Ph.D.? D.Sc.?” After all, Maksim had
mentioned His Excellency had taught in two schools before bringing his
lectures to Nordstrøm Island. “Is there a special rank before Nordstrøm?”
 He chuckled. Just like he had done in the entryway on Sunday and after
his lecture on Tuesday. Sudden, almost startling, velar and raspy. It was
impossibly annoying.
“Most of our residents simply call me by my first name – Dann. You
can use that if you’re comfortable with it, as I don’t have a suitable degree
which calls for addressing me with an academic rank.”
“Dann,” I cut to the chase with a wry smile. “Don’t we have more
pressing subjects to discuss than my wardrobe malfunctions?”
“I was simply trying to get your mind off any anxiety you might have.
This isn’t a magical quiz or test, but merely a chance for us to go over the
missed material.”
Presumptuous dick.
“I don’t have any anxiety. Despite being raised like a mortal human, I
know I’ll eventually catch up on all magical things.”
He lifted his hands in the air, palms facing me, as if he was giving up,
then gestured towards the tables across his desk. I silently accepted the
invitation and tried to set my thoughts in order. The last thing I needed was
to mess up because of my irritation.
Looking at a blank spot on the wall somewhere above his head, I started
listing the realms in no particular order.
“The nine basic realms of Norse cosmology are Midgard – our planet
Earth, Asgard – home of the Aesir and some Vanir deities, Vanaheim –
homeland of the Vanir, Alfheim – the realm of the Ljósálfar light elves,
Svartalfheim – the realm of the Svartálfar dark elves, Jotunheim – it’s
where the Jötnar giants live, Nidavellir – the dwarves’ kingdom, Niflheim –
the world of ice and mist, and Muspelheim – the realm of fire.”
“That’s correct.”
I secretly sighed with relief. Even memorizing the strange names had
taken me quite a while.
“The white ash tree Yggdrasil’s roots, stem and branches serve as a link
between the realms. Apart from Yggdrasil, there are other ways Midgard
connects with the other eight realms, as well as with worlds beyond them.
The most common connections are places with intersecting ley lines, which
form interdimensional portals. Manmade portals created by supernatural
creatures can also form a link between worlds. Wanderers can Wander into
foreign realms. Some Varg werewolves can also jump from one world to
another, teleporting other creatures with them.”
 I paused for air just before I was about to add the Bifröst Bridge.
“May I interrupt you?” He interrupted me with a question about
interrupting me. I knew it was because he was polite, but it was still an
extremely strange thing to say. “You had to report to me only with the
material you missed from the lecture to which you were late. No one
expects of you to recite everything written in the book I referred to you.”
“Oh! I’m sorry if I’m wasting your time, I just had to go over the entire
volume to get a better grasp of the subject.”
He inhaled sharply, then froze on the spot, staring at me without
blinking for the longest time. Wow. Aurora bitched out on me, her uncle
thought looking at me was beneath him, and her brother got creepy around
me. To say fitting in with the Nordstrøms was hard would have been an
understatement.
The guy finally blinked. “You read the entire volume?”
“I skimmed some parts. Anyway, the material I missed was about the
Bifröst Bridge. It spans from Midgard to Asgard, which is one of the
reasons behind its nickname Aesir’s Bridge – because it connects Earth with
the heavenly plains of the Aesir and the few Vanir who live there.”
He nodded. “Can you tell me something particular about the Bifröst’s
appearance?”
Oh, crap! How could I have forgotten? And to think I called myself a
Marvel movie fan…
“It shimmers like a bright rainbow,” I added quickly, “but it’s actually
glowing in three colors, which overlap, giving it the rainbow effect.
Literature describes it as the sturdiest bridge that ever existed, because the
gods locked magical wards within its red, green and blue colors, and
they’ve kept the nature of the wards a secret for obvious reasons. There
have been speculations, claiming the particles consisting of red hues are
embedded with protections against invasions of fire and ice giants, but
those are just theories.”
“Precisely,” he confirmed, crossing arms over his chest. “If you want to
learn more about realms beyond our own, I can give you a list of books you
can find in the castle’s library.”
“I actually need to catch up on other things. Is this all for today?”
He nodded, but as I was about to stand up, his next words nailed me to
the chair.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
 I hated personal questions.
“You can ask; doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
“Fair enough. I’m curious how your family hid you for so long from the
supernatural world and from your true self. Adaline informed us there was a
suppression spell involved, but didn’t you ever speak to other family
members or wonder about any relatives outside of America?”
“Some families are small; and when people move away, they don’t
always keep in touch,” I replied vaguely.
Truth be told, I had heard about some cousins in Europe, but my aunt
always said she had lost their contacts over the years.
“What about your supernatural abilities? Haven’t you wondered why
you never got sick when humans around you did?”
“Nope. I had a healthy diet deprived of McDonald’s and junk food, I
often attended Pilates classes, and I wore warm clothes in the winter.”
“I don’t mean getting sick only from a common cold, but from any
illness in general. Didn’t you find it unnatural?”
For the almost-two weeks I had spent here, I already loathed the fact
that everyone knew me as a good-for-nothing late bloomer who didn’t have
a clue about necromancy. The ones who saw me differently thought I was
about to become a dark witch and go on killing sprees because of my
Draug. Dann’s questions were becoming as unnerving as those two angles.
Moreover, I had always had a severe problem with authority, so my
irritation at him only increased with each passing moment.
“I thought I had a strong immune system, I led a healthy lifestyle, and
cyclamate is officially banned in the US. Are we done now?”
“My questions have indeed been too personal,” he said with a stony
face. “You can go.”
“Can I ask you something?”
I just couldn’t stop myself from uttering the words, even though they
were a bad idea. After I had seen how amiable he could be with his
audience, his actions from the first morning I saw him bothered me more
than before. And it wasn’t just him. Aurora and his uncle were also being
indiscreetly put-off by something in me.
“Ask away,” he said with the same expressionless face.
“Why did you laugh?”
“When did I laugh?”
 “On early Sunday morning in the main entryway, when I was with
Maksim Larsen. Why did you ridicule me while lurking in the shadows?”
He took his time thinking of a response. I could feel myself growing
more and more impatient by the second. I hadn’t asked him about fixing
segment tree implementations in a Python code, so why was he taking so
long?
“I didn’t ridicule you, Learyn,” he said my first name with a reassuring
tone, but it had indeed felt like mockery back then. “I understand why’d
you see it that way, but not everyone is laughing at you because you’re new
to this world or due to some minor incidents.”
Uh-huh. Everyone who wasn’t horrified by me was indeed laughing at
me for the stupid situations I got myself into.
“Why?” I demanded, suppressing my desire to also ask about why he’d
been creeping up on me.
He was a lecturer and a Council member, and he basically owned the
place, so he had the right to creep up on anyone. Still, neither of these
factors could make me let go of the embarrassment, irritation and
uncomfortable feeling of being invaded.
“I laughed because it was surprisingly refreshing.” His eyes drifted
somewhere else as his mouth curved in a half-smile. “Newcomers usually
don’t get so heated over… hmm, our interior designer’s abysmal level of
ignorance, as you put it so gracefully.”
“Well”, I smiled cynically, “I’m sorry for tarnishing your interior
designer’s refined taste in eerie décor and sexist slogans. Next time, hire a
marketing agency’s expertise, and you won’t stumble upon such surprises.”
His own grin slowly faded. “Duly noted. Learyn, please try not to get on
my sister’s bad side.”
Whoa! I definitely hadn’t expected that last part.
I’d had my fucking fair share of Maksim, Monika and now him telling
me not to get on a Nordstrøm’s bad side. Fine, it was their castle. Fine, I
was under their roof. But if they wanted to be worshipped despite the way
they acted, these people were born in the wrong century. And I sure as hell
wasn’t going to pretend I was okay with their behavior.
“A, not to sound like a first-grader, but Aurora started it. B, she was
trying to be a bully. C, I don’t plan on enduring someone acting like that
towards me or anyone else, regardless of their last name. And D, I get how
I’m new here, while you Nordstrøms are privileged and all that, but all of
you need to act a little less high and mighty and a little more humane.”
He stood silent for what felt like an impossibly long time, during which
I hoped he understood me correctly. But when His Excellency – the
excellent lecturer, fighter and Council member – finally opened his mouth
and spoke, things got even worse for my short fuse.
“It’d be wise to remember you’re living in the real world and forget the
things you know about the way the mundane world works for humans.
You’re not the first to make this transition late in life. The sooner you shake
off your past beliefs, the safer you’ll be; and by that I don’t mean safer only
from my sister.”
“And why would you give a shit about my safety? You don’t even know
me! My point was that you’re all acting like people here should be your
robotic royal subjects!”
“First and foremost, that’s not the proper way to talk to your lecturer.
Everyone on the Council strives towards providing safety for all Nordstrøm
residents, and that includes you.”
Was he for fucking real?!
He had been acting all creepy and shit from the moment I set foot on
this island. He even made fun of my remarks and joked about my purple
PJs. He refused to acknowledge his sister’s unreasonable and disgusting
behavior or his uncle’s weird revulsion around me. Being on the Council,
he knew how said Council barked commands on my life without explaining
what the Eitrhals even was, or without being bothered by Brühl’s
incompetence for playing mentor!
And now, despite being almost my age, he was speaking to me in a
fatherly and condescending tone about the real world and my safety?
Without even grasping the gist of the real problem! The fact that his family
owned the place didn’t mean he, his sister or their uncle had the right to get
away with it!
Oh, and on top of everything, he was nagging at me about how I should
speak to a lecturer? This wasn’t even an educational institution!
“I call a snobbish dick when I see one, whether he’s my lecturer or not.
And you know nothing about me, my life or my transition, so take the
preaching down a notch, and back off next time you’re lurking in the
shadows!”
There! I gave him a piece of my mind.
 As soon as the initial moment of ignorant bliss passed, I wanted to hit
myself for speaking.
“Dismissed!”
His raspy voice cracked in the air like a whip. I jumped in the chair,
stood up and darted for the door.
FML! I managed to get myself into trouble again!
Damn my problem with authority, my stupid overemotional side, my
freaking short fuse! And damn me for letting myself become such a mess
after my ex-boyfriend’s bullshit! I was supposed to start with a clean slate
here, yet all I had done was dragged my mental garbage with me all the way
to Europe.
I tried to get it together when I flung my bedroom door open and saw
Monika. My expression must have betrayed me, since she lifted her nose
from a book she was reading and furrowed her brows.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t make me use my Sentinel powers on you. You were so all over
the place during your nightmare, that it was a real challenge to calm you.
I’m a little scared of what I might sense now.”
“Oh, Monika, no! Please, I don’t need a babysitter trying to get me in
line each time I’m not shitting rainbows. And you have your own life to
live. Stop worrying about mine.”
“Thanks, grumpy. Is it Aurora that’s still on your mind?”
Aurora, her brother, her uncle…
“Nope, mostly some magical stuff.”
“Speaking of, you keep skipping scheduled evocation exercises. You do
know the Council made them mandatory for you, right?”
How could anyone forget? I sighed, grabbed a towel and sought escape
from chit chats under the shower.
 

Death in Demisemiquavers
My aunt hadn’t been kidding when she said Nordstrøm Island would be
different from every other place I’d been to. Good thing I had nothing good
left in my old life, otherwise I would have lost my mind in here.
As if things weren’t nuts enough already, the insanity bar jumped up
when Geira Brekke called out to me after the book club meeting on
Monday.
“Walk with me, child.”
We headed for what seemed to be the way to the Dining Hall. She didn’t
say anything for a while, but then her words surprised me more than her
request to join her for a walk.
“How is your aunt Adaline?”
“I… I didn’t know you two know each other. She’s doing okay.”
At least I guessed as much, since she hadn’t said a word after sending
me halfway across the world, whether through a phone call or some other
type of communication.
“Thank the goddess! I believed her to be lost.”
“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.
She smiled woefully.
“I hadn’t heard from her in decades, until one horrible night eight years
ago. When we learned the news of her younger brother Eivind’s
disappearance that night, we received proof all of your close relatives had
met the same fate, including Adaline.”
Icy shivers crept down my back. I knew far too well which night she
spoke of. The same night I learned I could never say Mom and Dad again,
because both of them had died.
 “My parents supposedly passed away in a plane accident,” I finally
admitted, looking up at her. “My aunt didn’t have enough time to explain
what really happened to them before she sent me here.”
“It was a summoning accident,” she corrected me. “We were able to
find only one of the spirits involved in it, and we drew a statement from
him, claiming your parents had been present, along with your aunt.”
I tried to swallow the lump nestled in my throat. “What sort of a
summoning accident?”
She paused in front of the double doors leading to the Dining Hall.
There was too much sadness in her eyes. It made me wonder if she knew
my entire family.
“An awful creature,” she uttered after a few moments of silence. “One
we should never speak of.”
And with that, she opened one of the doors, and left me standing in the
corridor, filled with more unanswered questions than ever before.
The itch to research my family’s history overtook my system, but part
of me was scared I’d only stumble on some nasty, dark secret. It was the
same part that kept whispering how I had grown into a bitter, aimless, good
for nothing being, undeserving of… well, anything really. I wasn’t good
enough for my exes or for my friends, otherwise they wouldn’t have started
avoiding me. They saw me as pathetic because people got their hearts
broken all the time, but I couldn’t get over my own heartbreak.
Stupidly, somehow I had thought a change of scenery would help.
The new people around me also saw me as pathetic, because I wasn’t
able to ease into magic, despite my last name. The ones who saw me
differently thought I was someone they needed to be afraid of. Monika and
her brother seemed to be the genuinely friendly exceptions. Naturally, I
couldn’t help myself but believe how once they spent enough time around
me, they’d start seeing what my old friends had seen – a rotten core that had
to be avoided at all cost.
During lunchtime, I weighed my options – go see dead people in an
evocation exercise, or go read about dead people in the library. My choice
was a no-brainer.
As I made my way to the library wing, my thoughts drifted to my late
parents.
I remembered them as calm, grounded, supportive people. They were
both engineers and were happy with my interests in computers. The worst
thing they ever did was put Journey’s Separate Ways on the CD player too
often, but being addicted to a stupid rock hit from the eighties wasn’t a
crime. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t picture them getting involved in
summonings, let alone spending their free time gathering with
necromancers to practice black magic.
Then again, I had killed two men during my first week here with my
inherited black magic. As much as I didn’t want to think about my parents
as dark casters, they had spawned a murderer.
I spoke my last name in the library’s Section RA1. So many volumes
popped up, soaring freely in the air around me, that I immediately gave
their spines a gentle push and decided to switch to a different technique.
“Learyn Dustrikke.” Apparently, my name wasn’t mentioned in any
records. “Okay, let’s try something else. Eivind Dustrikke?”
Dozens of books flew out from different bookcases.
I quickly gathered them on the way to Section RC1’s reading rooms.
Every volume seemed too old to be dated from this century, but my parents
had their summoning incident eight years ago. I skimmed through all books,
only to find Eivind was a common Old Norse name, and my dad wasn’t the
only Eivind Dustrikke.
Knowing my family had fed me lies my entire life, I hadn’t bothered
researching the Dustrikke line up until today. By the looks of it, I had a lot
of research to do.
When dusk settled in, my frustration had taken the best of me.
The only book I hadn’t touched had a leather hardcover, and I was dead
sure it wasn’t faux leather. Some poor animal had been skinned for its
binding. Maksim’s joke about a book made of human flesh spun through
my memories. Good thing I hadn’t picked this one from the Warded
Sections! Carefully opening it at last, I hoped the unfortunate creature had
died quickly.
There wasn’t a table of contents, but the pages held something more
useful than what I found in the pile of other volumes – family trees.
Frantically turning over page after page, I found my entire line. It took
up five whopping pages! The branches on the fifth page’s bottom,
indicating the newest family members, were two – one for Eivind Dustrikke
and one for Adaline Dustrikke. My aunt and uncle never got married, so it
made sense for the book to lack further info on her branch, while Eivind’s
branch was intertwined with Syverine Olsen.
 The list stopped there. No Leah, no Learyn, no children, nada.
I closed the book and turned my attention back to the others. Maybe
there was a spell or something to help me narrow down the search for the
night my parents had died. If there was, Monika probably knew it. When
she didn’t respond to my text message, I gathered all volumes in my hands,
and headed for our room.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait for my roommate.
Monika was sitting on her bed cross-legged, with her back against the
wall. Painful grimaces danced on her face while her body winced and
twitched with convulsions. Her eyes were fixed somewhere on the ceiling,
her mouth curved in a frown. One hand rested on her knee, palm up, slashed
right in the middle in a diagonal line. An open wound, painted in crimson.
Dropping all books on the floor, I shot myself forward.
“Monika!” I yelled, clutching her shoulders. “Monika!”
She was irresponsive.
I fiddled with a nearby box of tissues under the sound of my pulse’s
violent bashing, until I finally managed to get some paper out and press it
over the wound. My hands were shaking, similarly to her writhing body,
and I shouted her name once more, but she kept staring at the ceiling with
that same painful look.
With ragged breaths, I removed the tissue from Monika’s hand, eyeing
her wound.
“Helbrede!” I ordered with an uneasy half-shriek, half-whisper.
“Helbrede! Helbrede! Helbrede!”
“Aaah!” Monika groaned, slouching forward. She jumped, as if
snapping out of a nightmare, and shot me a scowl. “Stop!”
The incantation resonated in my mind, bounced off my cranium’s walls,
and sunk back into my brain, as I watched the injured flesh tremble and
move, closing around the wound. The skin was slowly growing back,
healthy and unharmed, dancing around the crimson that glistened under the
chandelier’s lights. My heart raced with it, trying to outrun the speed of the
healing process.
Monika ran her other hand over her palm. The wound immediately
closed before my eyes. She wiped the residual blood with the tissues, then
groaned again.
“Why the hell did you do that?”
“I… magic… what?” I replied inadequately.
 “This! Why did you heal me?”
“I… you… were bleeding.”
“I was in a blood trance!”
With a clenched jaw, she jumped off the bed, and started pacing around
the room in circles. My panic slowly made way for my common sense to
return.
“You were doing blood magic?”
“Trying to,” she corrected me before sitting down. “Sorry for snapping,
I was just getting close.”
“Getting close to what?”
“Never mind, you’ll understand in time. Why aren’t you with Patricia
Svensson working on your evocation?”
“I wasn’t in the mood for jumping from a window,” I made a reference
to her friend.
“Learyn, it’s mandatory!”
“Geez, what am I? The Council’s pre-programmed robot?”
A sudden blow of irritation hit me, erasing my relief of seeing her
unharmed and erasing the wonder of succeeding in performing magic.
Controlled magic, magic used for good, not a crazy accident.
I walked over to the scattered books, gathered them in a pile, and placed
them on my bed. Obviously, I couldn’t do anything properly even when I
tried to do the right thing. The Draug and Monika’s reaction proved it.
“What’s all this?” she asked, coming over.
“Bedtime stories,” I muttered sarcastically, already skimming through
one of the volumes.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I was close to finally falling into the trance. So, I got
angry and frustrated when you interrupted it.”
A loud sigh rolled out of me.
“I kinda freaked out when I saw you shivering with your hand slashed
like that. You didn’t need my help, and I ruined your… whatever blood
trance is supposed to be. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll practice later. What’s up with the books?”
“I’m trying to find out how my parents died. These are the books
containing my father’s name.”
Monika browsed through the titles before shaking her head. “You won’t
find the book here. Their death is chronicled in another one.”
“How do you know?”
 “Because I read about it in another book.”
I grabbed her shoulders. “How did they die? What did they summon?
Why did they summon it?”
“Girlie, chill!” Her hands shot in the air, palms facing me. “The book
didn’t say they summoned something. It only mentioned they joined an
Asian coven’s attempts to keep safeguarding Midgard from otherworldly
threats.”
“They died in Asia, protecting us from otherworldly threats?” I asked in
surprise. As far as I knew, the night they passed away, they were flying
back from a business trip in the US.
“I didn’t say they died in Asia.”
She bit her thumb, avoiding my eyes for some reason. I did everything I
could to prevent myself from pressing her, and waited for the answers,
growing more impatient.
“There’s a realm beyond our own, called Carlynder. Wanderers
discovered it during the Middle Ages. It’s a wasteland inhabited by nasty
beings, who colonize other realms. The presence of Midgardians made
them set their sight on our world. An Asian coven of sorcerers found a way
to ward off Carlynderians, and your parents joined them in their quest to
defend our world from being colonized. They died in Carlynder, not in our
realm.”
“Okay, this is getting way too Stars Wars for me.” I pushed a hand
through my hair and pouted. “Why would my parents go to another realm?”
“Isn’t it obvious? To cut the head of the snake.”
“But Geira Brekke told me they died in a summoning accident.”
Monika shrugged. “Maybe they did summon something, but it wasn’t
chronicled.”
I opened the volume containing family trees and skimmed to the last
page with Dustrikke family members. The right side held the names of
Doran Dustrikke, a man born in the Roaring Twenties, and his brother Edor,
born in the nineties of the nineteenth century. Judging by the branches
above their names, they had to be my very, very, very distant cousins. Or
something like it.
Doran and Edor were apparently still alive, because there were no death
dates across their birth ones.
“What if they know what happened?” I asked quietly, sticking my index
finger on Edor and Doran. “Is there some way to find out where they live?
My aunt mentioned I have distant relatives in Europe. Maybe they’re in
Scandinavia?”
“If they are, they definitely don’t want to be found. I’ve never seen a
Dustrikke in necromantic societies, and I’ve never heard them making an
appearance in supernatural societies in general. At least not in the past two
decades. It’s a little weird because they’re celebrated more than kings and
queens. The legacy they left behind… Oh, boy! My mother would kill me
for saying this, but Hallvard Nordstrøm and his family will never be as
great as yours, no matter how hard they try.”
“Thanks,” I muttered and got up to stack the books in a neat pile on our
desk.
But what I was really doing was hiding my face.
The dark secret I’d been dreading was now crystal clear. My ancestors
were badass, and I was simply bad. Bad at everything – from magic to
human interaction. Like clockwork, the Eitrhals painfully pressed down on
my chest.
Monika was right. There was no use of these books. I didn’t need to
discover my family’s greatness and praised achievements. What I needed to
do was focus on not staining my family’s legacy again.
And that meant it was time to stop avoiding evocation.
* * *
Regardless of my poor opinion of the three Nordstrøms, I entered the
auditorium the next morning.
When Dann walked in, our eyes met. He didn’t seem bothered anymore
by my comment from last week. His calm expression helped me ease a little
bit, alleviating my prejudice that I had gotten myself into serious trouble by
calling him a snobbish dick. On top of spewing all the other crap at him.
“Can anyone remember what I promised you last time?”
A hand flew up, two rows ahead of me.
“Yes, Miss Nilsen?”
“Ice giants,” replied a sugary voice.
Clapping and hoots of approval erupted from behind me. A group of
guys seemed just as eager as Miss Nilsen for today’s lecture.
I rolled my eyes. Leave it to His Excellency to excite an audience about
History. Too bad the nickname Snobbish Dick suited him as much as the
other one.
 “Settle down, please. All right, ice giants. Before we delve into epic
tales and glorious battles, let’s go over some backstory. Ice giants are the
primary form of life in the realm Niflheim. As some of you might know,
Niflheim, along with the other primordial realm, Muspelheim, forms the
stream of creation, also known as eitr essence, or the quintessence which
fills our souls and gives us our magical core.”
Good thing I knew at least that.
“Having its fundamental role in our creation in mind, it’s only natural
that there’s a plethora of myths and superstitions surrounding this realm.
Can anyone tell me one such alleged fact about Niflheim, which has been
proven to be nothing but a myth?”
“It’s the tenth circle of hell specially reserved for Álfar mutts like Vee?”
Aagard, that annoying asshole, made everyone turn their heads to the
hybrid elf girl, who was sitting only a few chairs away from me. Echoing
laughter erupted from the back rows. Vee’s face became a replica of that
tormented expression she had when I first saw her – after her failed attempt
to Aperture more than her wrist.
Thanks to the same guy, now she was once again suffering in silence.
“Hey, shitface!” I yelled in Aagard’s direction. “Just because her ears
are pointy and probably happen to be bigger than your dick, it doesn’t give
you the right to insult her!”
Razzing, booing and woohoo-ing mixed with the laughter, bouncing off
every hard surface in the auditorium.
“Silence!” Dann’s voice magically established order with a single word.
“Mr. Aagard, Miss Dustrikke, I’ll deal with you after the lecture is over.
Miss Selvig, I’d like for you to join them as well.”
I had no clue who was the latter one, but judging by Aagard’s furious
glare, it was probably someone from his circle of buddies.
“Despite Mr. Aagard’s inappropriate statement, he did mention one of
the most popular myths surrounding Niflheim. Scholars often mistaken it
for a hellish underworld, and erroneously pinpoint the location of the
goddess Hel’s eponymous habitat, also known as Helheim, in Niflheim.
Helheim is located in a different realm, and Niflheim is not the realm of
hell, but the one of mist and ice. Having this in mind, it’s obvious why
humans would perceive it as a hellish place. But let’s not forget Niflheim
gave life to the Hvergelmir spring, from which all rivers rose; and also to
the stream of creation in the place where its primordial rime met with
Muspelheim’s primordial fire. If you stop to think about it, really think
about it, Niflheim is the exact opposite of a wasteland ruled by icy
desolation.”
I had to admit it once again; Maksim was right about Dann’s excellent
lecturing. His Excellency made such an effortless transition into the subject,
it seemed almost as if Aagard hadn’t spewed any racist remarks and
interrupted the lecture.
When it was over and everyone left, I walked to the podium holding
Dann’s desk, followed by the two other attendees he had called. Miss Selvig
wasn’t one of Aagard’s buddies.
It was Vee.
I peeked at her in confusion as to why she was detained with us. She
shifted her eyes between Aagard and Dann wildly for a few moments.
Then, without any warning, she burst into tears. It took less than a second
for His Excellency to jump on his feet, go around his desk, and put his
hands over her shoulders. She hid her face in her palms and shook her head.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Vee, please calm down.”
Dann spoke softly and quietly, unlike the way Marcus Dahl had
reprimanded her, before he had also started comforting her physically.
A cold lump dropped in my throat. I imagined how embarrassed she
must have felt, tearing down twice in front of an audience, on top of being
bullied. I wanted to go over there and tell her I knew what it was like to feel
overemotional, and how it wasn’t her fault that people were shitty.
“Please go in the back room to compose yourself while I have a word
with our troublemakers.”
She whimpered, nodded, and went through a door behind the desk,
which I hadn’t even noticed up until today. Before I could gather my own
thoughts, Dann took a step towards us, inhaled sharply, and crossed his
arms over his chest.
“Learyn, I have taught many troublesome students through the years,
but you are a marvel of acrimonious vulgarity.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Thanks?”
“You’ve been to my lectures twice and spit more profanities than I’d
care to hear for an entire month. Defending your friends is honorable, but
your vile language and desire to disrupt the discipline will get you in
trouble.”
Cute. The guy thought we were in one of his schools.
 “Am I not already in trouble?” I asked, raising my eyebrows even
higher. “Should I try harder?”
“Your sarcasm isn’t amusing. I’ll allow you a third strike. As for you,
Heimir,” he glanced at Aagard, “your strikes have been too many. I will not
allow such behavior on this island, least of all during my own lectures. The
Council will see you tonight.”
“Whatever. Your uncle can’t–”
“Dismissed!” Dann’s raspy voice cracked like a whip, much like last
week after I had called him a snobbish dick. “Both of you!”
Heimir Aagard glared at me on our way to the corridor, then silently
walked away. I remained outside and waited for Vee to make sure the
comments about her hadn’t been disastrous for her psyche. I couldn’t close
my eyes and pretend everything was fine while Aagard and his flock of
herd-mentality-driven idiots were bullying her.
When the door finally opened a couple of minutes later and she came
through it, she nearly lost her step.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. What that dick said about you–”
“Please go!” She interrupted me, closing the door. “Please! I don’t know
what they’ll do if they see you talking to me.”
“Like hell! I’m not gonna watch some fucking racist, like Aagard or his
pals, bully you and pretend it’s okay.”
“Not me.” Her voice was so quiet, I barely made it out. “They’ll hurt
you. You’re a Dustrikke, you can’t talk to me.”
“I can do whatever I want and talk to whomever I want, Vee.”
“You must stay away from mixed breeds like me,” she whispered.
Her round, violet eyes were wide open and watery. She was on the brink
of crying again, and staring at my own reflection in her eyes, I couldn’t stop
myself from falling down memory lane.
When my friends slowly started dumping me, I looked like her. Hurting,
filled with embarrassment, and incapable of coping with my emotions.
Before I could find the right words to say, she ran off, and I decided to
head for the Dining Hall. Why did she tell me I had to stay away from
mixed breeds because of my last name? The Dark Age was over, right?
Necromancers didn’t use elves as slaves or blood bags anymore. So, why
did it sound like she was beneath me and I’d get into trouble for even
talking to her? Dann didn’t seem to think so, even if Vee or Aagard did, and
he was a Nordstrøm. After all, he had called her my friend.
 This world was just too freaky.
As if I didn’t have enough freaky stuff to think about during lunch, my
eyes landed on the Snobbish Dick.
He was sitting a few tables away from mine, next to his sister, twisting a
glass between his fingers and furrowing at something. Aurora seemed
infuriated while talking to him. If looks could kill, the way she glared at
that glass would have been disastrous. I was too far away to act nosy and
eavesdrop, but I had a feeling she was angry with me. It couldn’t be a
coincidence. She was upset exactly after I – the one she treated like a
nemesis – had stirred trouble in her brother’s lecture.
Dann wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. She lifted her hand
and pushed her fingers through his, then leaned back into his embrace. I
winced. The entwining fingers seemed way too weird for siblings who had
outgrown their childhood years.
Then again, what did I know? I had always wanted a brother or a sister,
and had been jealous of other people’s siblings, but never had one.
When I entered my session with Brühl, my day went from bad, to weird,
to un-fucking-believable.
“Begin!” Brühl barked, nodding at the book in front of me.
I closed my eyes and told myself if I could do healing magic, I could
also lift the book in the air without touching it.
But when seconds turned into minutes and minutes became half an hour
spent in fruitless attempts, I decided to try something else. A spell I had
read in another book. I hadn’t practiced it, but Maksim mentioned it was a
simple spell. He used it in the library when I arrived on the island. He
hadn’t spoken a verbal incantation, and I tried to do the same. I stared at the
book like I was trying to make it shoot itself up just with my eyes, but once
again, nothing happened.
“Svevende,” I mumbled the incantation under my nose.
“What was that?” Brühl shouted, appearing in my range of vision.
“Nothing,” I lied.
“Does this look like a casting exercise to you? Try again without using
any spells! Clear your mind and tap into your core! Did you read like I told
you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you read?”
“That some lunatic experimented on himself and his elf slaves.”
 “What did you read?”
“I just told you, some Elemental asshole made inhumane experiments.”
“I asked you what you read. What did he do?”
“He suffocated himself and others on purpose to test his magic! Is that
what I was supposed to read?”
“I told you to read everything!”
He was seriously getting on my nerves.
“Not to sound like a brat, but in case it’s not obvious, the library holds
countless volumes. Even if I didn’t have other stuff to focus on, I still
wouldn’t have been able to read everything in it so quickly!”
He started circling around the room, eyeing me with stormy scowls.
“What?” I asked after his fourth circle.
“Should I start suffocating you?”
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You can’t do that!”
“Are you afraid, Dustrikke?”
“No!”
Yeah, I was afraid! How could I not be? My parents had died in a
magical accident. I had raised an undead creature and murdered two men
without even trying. The Council thought I could summon a demonic entity.
And now my personal mentor was asking if I wanted him to suffocate me
on purpose. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be scared?
I closed my eyes, shutting them tightly, trying to let go of all these
sinister thoughts, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
“Are you scared, Dustrikke?”
“I said no!”
“Do you want me to get you diapers and hold your hand like a baby?”
“Stop it!”
“Are you going to hide in a corner for the rest of your life because you
inherited death magic from Mom and Dad instead of fairy wings?”
“Don’t talk about my parents!”
“Do you think you were born with pretty magic that makes flowers
bloom and cherry trees blossom? Do you think you’re here to learn how to
regrow forests? Do you think the Council is keeping all of you verdammte
Kinder on a secret island because you’re some precious beautiful creatures
in the eyes of the world? Open your eyes, Dustrikke! You were born with
death magic!”
I squeezed my eyes even tighter. “Stop shouting at me!”
 “Stop fooling yourself and I will! Look around, Dustrikke! Death is all
around you!”
“Stop it!” I yelled, inhaling so sharply, I felt the air around me tremble
while getting sucked in. “Stop!”
“Open your eyes!”
“I SAID STOP!”
My voice roared, rolling off my throat like a rumbling storm, piercing
and ear-shattering, pounding mercilessly over my eardrums. I was shaken
so vigorously by my emotions, it felt like my own body couldn’t contain
them any longer, so they were beginning to tear their way through it. The
shivers running all over me made my skin crawl. I was struck by countless
needles, as if the air in the room was lashing over the exposed skin on my
face and hands; blowing, hitting, whipping over me.
“STOP!”
Screaming at the top of my lungs, I felt them burst, releasing the oxygen
from my body, making me pant and clasp my chest helplessly, gasping in
sudden horror.
“Breathe, Dustrikke,” Brühl ordered evenly.
A rush of air hit my respiratory system, instantly prompting me to bend
forward. I was about to puke my guts out.
And I probably would have done it, but I started hiccupping in a frantic
way. It was like I had never done it in my entire life, and now my body was
trying to make up for nearly twenty-one years’ worth of missed hiccups.
“Easy, easy.”
The excess air slowly left my system, allowing me to breathe normally.
I opened my eyes only to be left breathless again, purely by the sight of my
surroundings.
The room was a complete mess.
A devastating tornado had viciously swept through it, ravaging it
violently, razing everything to the ground. The two desks and chairs were
smashed to pieces. The whiteboard, once hanging from the wall across me,
was shredded to useless bits, protruding from the rest of the rubble – a pile
of jagged wood and steel pieces that used to be furniture. The whites,
browns and greys were mixed with shiny translucent glass-like shards.
Glancing sideways to the other wall, I saw barren window frames.
All of the ear-shattering, pounding and rumbling noises, all the
breathlessness and lung-bursting, and the painful lashing of non-existent
winds against my skin hadn’t been figments of my imagination.
“Wh-what happened?”
“Your air element broke out.”
“I did this?” I gestured to the floor and windows, straightening up. He
nodded. I exhaled, trying to silence the thousands F bombs exploding in my
brain. “How?”
“You had an emotional outburst.”
Emotional outbursts lead to destructive magical outbursts, Maksim had
told me. That was how I transformed the swallow into a Draug, killed two
guards, and started healing Monika’s wound. I was overtaken by crazy
emotions each time.
And if Maksim knew it, an experienced Elemental practitioner like
Brühl also knew it.
“Were you inciting me on purpose with your abusive approach?”
“If you consider it abusive, you don’t know the meaning of the word.”
Dick. I knew the meaning of this word. “Nice, Brühl! Really nice! Now
the Council is going to give me hell for trashing a room on top of all the
other crap I’ve pulled so far!”
“The Council has seen worse, and don’t you ever dare sass me about my
job! My methods may be unconventional in terms of me not treating you
like a helpless toddler who needs gentle nursing, but they are efficient. That
is why you are attending these exercises – to learn about your power in a
safe and controlled space around experienced casters.”
“You call this safe and controlled? Are you out of your mind? I could
have hurt you!”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Dustrikke.”
A scoffing, laugh-like grunt escaped me. “What happens if the next time
I go out of control, I make another Draug instead of… this?”
“The alarm will alert us, and someone will destroy it.”
“Yeah, right, because last time everything went smoothly.”
He didn’t reply.
“If it’s so easy to destroy them, why is everyone so afraid of Draugar?
Half of the island thinks I’m the spawn of Evil.”
He walked over to me, smashing the ruins under his feet to smaller bits,
and caught me by the shoulder.
There was a strange look in his eyes, almost soft and parental, that I
never expected to see in someone like him. It only proved something I
already knew far too well – I was always too quick to form an opinion on
people around me based on my own past. And it wasn’t right.
“Listen, Dustrikke, I don’t know what you’ve read or heard about
necromancers so far, but back in the days there were individuals who
deserved to be labeled as dark sorcerers, to be exiled from the masses.
Greed, poor judgement, lack of common sense… the reasons for one
becoming as vicious and obscure as them are endless. They did… horrible
deeds, to put it lightly. Scheisse, they did outrageous things! Some of these
necromancers used servants to do the dirty work for them.”
“Servants? Like house spirits and elves?”
He let go of me, shaking his head.
“Trapped souls, djinns, Álfar, Landvættir and other creatures, all forced
to do their bidding. The most powerful casters gathered battalions of
Draugar, keeping the undead hidden away until they were strong enough to
march down on anyone who stood on these necromancers’ path.”
I twisted my neck to look him in the eyes.
“What do you mean by strong enough?”
“The longer a Draug exists, the stronger its bond becomes with its
master. When an undead is created from the joint forces of two or more
casters, the sorcerers need more time to solidify the bond between the
Draug and its masters. Breaking the bond between a necromancer and his or
her Draug during the early days of creation of said Draug isn’t a challenge
for sorcerers who can cast complex magic.”
“I see.”
My whisper was so quiet, I wasn’t sure if he had even heard me.
Moreover, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer to my next
question, but it burned on my tongue, fueled by unhealthy curiosity.
“What happens if the bond grows stronger?”
“The Draug becomes more than an undead corpse. It develops certain
powers through the bond, hence why back in the days people used to
perceive Draugar as beings with a mind of their own.”
“Powers, such as?” I whispered with bated breath.
“Controlling the forces of nature, traveling into dreams, sensing fear
and other emotions.”
I swallowed, hard and loud.
“Mirroring the magic of Elementals, Wanderers and Sentinels?”
“Exactly.”
 “Doesn’t that drain the necromancer’s eitr?”
“Eitr is the deadliest poisonous quintessence known in existence,
Dustrikke. It feeds on the bond with the undead.”
Despite his sinister words, a sudden ray of hope shot through me,
breaking up the dark clouds gathered over my thoughts.
“Will you teach me how to destroy Draugar?”
“Nein! Absolutely not!” He shouted, pushing my shoulder and
prompting me to head for the door. “You have no business meddling with
such advanced casting! Now go, you’ve done enough for today.”
“Okay, how about next time–”
“Do you want to turn into a monstrous Livløs, or do you want to remain
normal? Forget about any Draugar-killing magic!”
“But I always have the Eitrhals on me! I won’t turn into a Livløs with it!
And I don’t want to learn how to make flowers bloom or how to cure
decaying trees; I want to learn something useful!”
“Something useful would be learning to control your elements!”
“And then? Will you teach me after I learn to do that?”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “Ask me next year.”
“But I won’t be here next year! I want you to teach me now!”
“Go eat your dinner, Dustrikke!”
In an instant, he teleported out of the trashed room before I could press
the subject any further.
Following his order, I rushed to the Dining Hall to look for Monika.
Strangely, she was missing most of the time, but now I quickly located
her purple hair. She was sitting on a relatively empty table, with one hand
writing something in a book, and the other – holding a fork.
“Hey!” I grinned, sitting across her.
Her eyes left the book. She wasn’t writing, but using a purple marker to
highlight some paragraphs in it.
“Oh, hey. Why are you here so early?”
“My Elemental mentor let me go early. My air element broke out
today.”
“Really? Congratulations! How did it feel?”
I made a face. “Brutal. It was like my lungs burst, and I accidentally
trashed the entire room.”
Her head dropped to the side with a cheerless smile.
 “When my Sentinel powers started breaking out, I wanted to drop out of
high school.”
“Was it that bad?” I asked in shock, leaning across the table.
“Do you know how many people come into direct physical contact with
you every day, even accidentally? Each day, I counted every single time I
brushed against someone and felt their emotions. It was a month before
graduation, and I was going crazy. Mom told me to say I have an allergic
reaction that gets triggered by different fabrics, so I could have an
explanation as to why I was always screaming at people to watch where
they were going. It was either lying about allergies, or leaving my friends,
being homeschooled and taking my exams privately.”
“Oh, Monika, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how fucked up that
must have felt.”
She shrugged with a half-smile.
“Yeah, empathy sucks. On a side note, I have exciting news for you.
Our skates arrived.”
“Huh?”
“The ice skates we ordered last week, along with your clothes, and that
tech stuff.”
“The VPN router for our room? Right, I completely forgot about that!
Wait a minute. How did they arrive exactly? I thought this was a secret
island and ordinary people have no access to it.”
“There’s an underwater tunnel connecting the island to a building in
downtown Stavanger. They deliver everything we need there – stuff like
food and our online orders – and our guards bring them to the island.”
“Oooh,” I exclaimed, eyeing the dark circles under her eyes. “Monika,
if necromancers can do language spells, isn’t there something to help you
read faster? No offense, but you look exhausted.”
She rolled the marker’s cap and closed her book with a pitiful frown.
“Necromancers can’t do language spells. We have a couple of guards
who can do them, but they aren’t necromancers. Sadly, there aren’t any
spells or elixirs to help you read or learn faster. Well, there are elixirs to
keep you awake, but they don’t do anything for your focus or your brain’s
memorizing function.”
“But I saw emerald light and black smoke accompanying the magic of
the guards who brought me here. They did the language spell on me.”
 “The color specter of magic isn’t my strong suit, so I can’t really
explain how it works, but many casters can do magic that’s accompanied by
green and black colors. Ours just always manifests in green.”
Yet another weird thing. I should have just started accepting how
everything here was weird.
“Why can’t I see the black smoke when someone is teleporting here
through Aperture?”
“Because the black smoke occurs only when you’re traveling to longer
distances. Think of it like exhumes from cars. Your body is releasing
energy. The greater the distance, the more energy you waste.”
Well, at least this made some sense.
“Can everyone on the island Aperture themselves?”
She made a face. “Sadly, no. Only a handful of creatures can, and the
island houses so many types of creatures. Safe haven, remember?”
“Right, like the dark elves. What about the guards? What types of
creatures are they, if they aren’t necromancers?”
“Some of them are, but those are only a few. The others are… Well,
some are Elemental casters, but they don’t possess necromantic genes.
Others are Healers. We also have Skinwalkers, who can shapeshift into any
animal they want. And then there are a couple of telekinetic casters.”
“And alchemists, right?” I shot a wild guess. “Because you mentioned
elixirs.”
“No, alchemy is just science. There are elixirs mixed with magic, but
that’s a different thing.”
I nodded, pretending I wasn’t baffled by all this information. Suddenly,
her eyes lit up, erasing all traces of her exhaustion.
“Will you teach me how to skate after dinner? Please? I could really use
a break.”
“Sure.” I smiled happily, sensing relief and self-satisfaction for the first
time in what seemed like forever. “Let me just overdose with Norwegian
salmon first.”
* * *
As it turned out, teaching Monika how to skate wasn’t as easy as I thought
it would be.
The frozen pond we chose didn’t have any railings, unlike skating rinks
in the human world, so she had nothing to hold on to but me. Regardless of
how many times I kept telling her to keep her body’s weight on her feet, she
kept lurching forward or veering to the side. Pulling her up after each fall
was as hard as trying to teach her how to maintain her balance.
After a while, I couldn’t even get back up on my own feet.
I lied on the ice, glancing at the starry skies above me, hoping the few
other skaters on the other side of the pond wouldn’t decide to run over us. It
was beautiful. I never got to see the stars in San Francisco because of the
megapolis’ light pollution. I often saw clouds on the island, but tonight the
skies were clear, and the stars illuminated the darkness.
Monika panted, dropping beside me and rubbing her knee.
“I think I’m done for today.”
“We’ll have to get you a penguin,” I laughed out the words, trying to
catch my breath.
“What’s a penguin?”
“You know, penguins, polar bears, ice skating figure aids. Haven’t you
seen them on rinks?”
I couldn’t hear her response, because I felt a pull right in the middle of
my spine, like it came from under me. And in the blink of an eye, I was
overtaken by an overwhelming string of sensations.
Freezing waters hit me, sinking into every layer of clothing, tearing
through my skin like icy blades, reaching for my bones. They penetrated
my mouth, my nose, my lungs, leaving me breathless. Pins and needles
struck my flesh as I tried to swim my way to the top, only to discover I was
swimming under ice.
My heart rate quickened, bashing against my ribcage, joining forces
with the waters that were blocking my airways and making me convulse. I
smashed my hands, knees and skates against the icecap, trying to reach the
surface where air awaited. But I couldn’t break through.
The banging over my eardrums sped up, outrunning the speed of my
hits.
Bang, hit and bang, bang, kick and bang, until there was nothing left but
the painful pounding on my ears, lashing against the water’s pressure on the
outer side of my eardrums.
With one final swing at the ice, my muscles failed me. The beat dropped
and died down, leaving the stage, so the water could sweep in its place and
invade my lungs one final time.
The world unraveled in pitch darkness.
 * * *
A rush of air hit me. I bent over, hurling my guts out with the same
nauseating feeling I had experienced during my Elemental session. This
time I actually barfed, vomiting the water from my lungs and the contents
of my stomach – gastric juices with bits of partially processed salmon.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Monika’s voice broke through my
uneven coughs.
My heart was galloping again, hammering through my body on the
inside, while frozen blades pierced me from the outside.
“Aurora!” Monika cried out. “She’ll die again!”
Something grabbed me, but I could barely feel its weight.
Everything was so cold, benumbing and invigorating at the same time. I
could feel my body freezing, yet I couldn’t stop shaking. The fine line
between being alive and lifeless was an agonizing paradox, standing right in
the middle of two forces that collided with each other, fighting for the
ultimate control.
“Aurora, please!”
The spasmodic tremors grew stronger, throwing me from one side to the
other, and my brain barely registered a familiar voice.
“Ugh, fine. David, warm her up.”
But I couldn’t see the one she ordered to interfere, because the
sensations inside my body overpowered everything around me.
Something crawled in my frozen limbs, something deep down stirred
my insides and lit my veins on fire. My heart sped up its beating rhythm,
fighting to pump more blood into my stream, fighting to replace the one
that was boiling, fighting to keep me alive.
I screamed, giving voice to my pain, when the ruthless thrashing against
my chest and ears became unbearable, and the fire inside me reached
impossible temperatures.
Then I heard another scream, someone else’s, and it sounded different
from mine. Frightened, high-pitched, almost screeching.
I turned my head to the side, trying to catch my breath, but my vision
was blocked by a fiery wall. The flames were dancing, blazing in the
darkness, reaching for the skies.
Another grotesque scream followed.
Everything became dark again.
 * * *
I woke up in a strange room with dimmed lighting. The wooden ceiling was
different from my bedroom’s one. I struggled to sit up in someone else’s
bed, surrounded by people.
“You’re in the infirmary,” Monika answered my silent question.
Aurora was standing next to her with some guy I had never seen before.
An elder woman, dressed like a nurse in white and blue clothing, was on the
other side of the bed. Christof Brühl was on her right.
“What happened?”
“You died,” Aurora drawled, examining her perfect pink manicure.
“I-what?”
The nurse shot Aurora an unamused look, then walked away.
“You drowned,” Monika explained, “and I brought you back, but it
looked like you got hypothermia and… Well… I guess your fire element
broke out.”
“Congratulations, Dustrikke!” Brühl growled beside me. “You asked
what happens next time you lose control. You lost it, and gave Larsen here
multiple third degree burns.”
With numb limbs, I launched myself in Monika’s direction, but she
smiled. “It’s okay, they already regenerated my skin.”
“One-on-one sessions on Thursday, Dustrikke! Don’t be late!”
My mentor also left the room. Aurora gestured to the door for the
unfamiliar boy to leave. “And you too, Monika. Go.”
“But…” Monika bit her lip, looking at me.
“I said go,” Aurora repeated. “Last time I checked, you were still a
necromancer-in-learning, not a guardian.”
What the hell was a guardian? Did she mean to say guard?
Monika obeyed silently, walking away. My brain finally grasped the
meaning of everything.
I had died.
I had been dead, but all I could remember was darkness. Bleak, black,
empty darkness. A void between the world of the living and the afterlife.
Closing my eyes, I tried to recall something from it, but there was nothing
there.
My eyes opened at the sound of a closing door, and saw Aurora, who
was the only one still left in the room.
 “What the fuck did you do?” I snarled, scanning her bored expression.
“The ice under me didn’t crack; it somehow disappeared and then just
reappeared! I was trapped under the icecap, and I know you had something
to do with it!”
“Something? I had everything to do with it. David is an Elemental, and
a good one, unlike you. I told him to melt the water and refreeze it once you
were under the surface.”
“You made me drown!” I shrieked in her face.
Aurora scoffed. “Quit acting so scandalized. You’re making it sound
like I was expecting something else to happen by trapping you underwater.”
“Just because your uncle runs the place or because it’s full of
necromancers, it doesn’t give you the right to murder someone!”
“The island belongs to me, so it gives me the right to do whatever I
want. When I don’t like someone, I get rid of them. Next time I decide I
don’t like you, Monika might not be there to bring you back. In fact, it
might be weeks or even months until someone finds your decaying corpse.
By then you’d be so unrecognizable, they won’t know whose body they’ve
found. If you don’t like it, take it up with Administration. I’m sure they can
immediately ship you in a container back to America.”
My mouth fell open.
“You can be excused,” she added, waving her fingers unambiguously.
“Bitch, if you think you can scare me into curtsying to you, you’re
picking on the wrong girl!”
“Do you even know how to curtsy? It calls for elegance and refined
movements, and you simply lack both.”
“Oh, I’m so going to–”
“The only thing you’ll be doing is going to Administration’s office and
asking for a transfer to some place far away from Norwegian soil. Unless
you want to die again.”
I jumped off the bed, grunting with the grace of a wild animal, and
rushed out of the infirmary. It took me a while to find my way around the
castle and reach the central wing, but instead of carrying on to
Administration’s office on the first floor, I took the stairs and went back to
my bedroom.
Monika was there, picking at her nails and fidgeting around the room in
circles.
 “I hate her!” I shouted, slamming the door behind me. “I fucking hate
her! I’ve never wanted to hit someone so badly in my entire life!”
“Learyn, calm down.”
“Calm down? How can I calm down? I died! I was dead! She ordered
someone to kill me, and then… Oh, shit, did I really burn you? What
happened?”
“I’m fine, the nurse regenerated my tissue. I brought you back to life as
soon as we took you out of the water, but…. Well, you were soaking wet
with freezing water, and I didn’t think it through before reviving you. You
were shaking, and I thought you were dying from hypothermia, but then
you started a fire around yourself and… I was just too close to the flames.
But it’s no biggie, really. I’m fine now.”
“I’m so sorry! Fuuuck! This place is fucking insane!”
No matter how many times I repeated it, it didn’t make things any saner.
“Are you sure you haven’t done something to provoke Aurora?”
“Whose side are you on, Monika?”
“I’m just asking. I’ve known her for years. Though she can be a bit
bossy and annoying sometimes, she doesn’t really commit murder in her
spare time.”
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t even get ecstatic over knowing my second
element had broken out, because Aurora had just told me to get the hell out
of her castle – after she had murdered me.
I had died. I was dead, then brought back to life.
“Fucking insane,” I repeated, and decided to ironically drown my
irritation under the shower.
 

Echoes And Reverberation

There was an afterlife. Freya and Odin welcomed our souls in their
heavenly abodes. Our spirits also lived on, because otherwise necromancers
wouldn’t be able to evoke them. So, why had I seen nothing but pitch
darkness when I died? Where did I go? Was there a purgatory? Had my
subconsciousness traveled to some blank wasteland, a dark void, a waiting
room of some sort?
All these questions just added to the pile of reasons screaming why I
needed to start attending my scheduled evocation exercises. And so I did,
on Wednesday afternoon.
Fortunately, this time there wasn’t a body lying on the table positioned
in the middle of the small room.
I had seen Patricia Svensson, the female guard who was supposed to
lead my evocation exercises, for a millisecond during my first and only one,
when I ran away. She was a tiny woman, whose age was similar to
Monika’s mom. I couldn’t tell if she was close to a hundred, passed one-
hundred-and-fifty, or if she had just hit her two-hundredth birthday. I had
learned necromancers couldn’t suffer from illnesses like common colds,
chicken pox, the flu and other nasty things, but what about arthritis,
dementia, Parkinson’s and other diseases elderly people experienced?
Svensson approached me slowly. Although she wasn’t phlegmatic, I
couldn’t help but think how cruel it was for Freya to bless us with a long
lifespan, when it meant suffering from old age for longer, compared to
humans.
“Miss Dustrikke,” she greeted me with an acidulous smile. “I see
you’ve decided to return at last. It took you long enough. Having in mind
your actions spurred rumors with disruptive force, I am elated that you’ve
finally come to your senses.”
She claimed to be elated, but her caustic tone spoke otherwise.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Last time you came here, another woman saw you running away.
Rumors of your reaction have spread among necromancers born in non-
magical families. Now they’re afraid of evocation, and believe it’s a
dreadful practice, because apparently, a descendant of the great Dustrikke
bloodline believes so. Moreover, your deeds stirred commotion among
some older necromancers. The likes, who’ve always preached how we need
to turn our back on our own heritage, because the practice of meddling with
postmortem stages is inhumane. Now you have given them an instrument to
support their foolish claims.”
“I… what?”
She leaned in, placing her palms on the table, and stared directly into
my eyes.
“For centuries, necromancy has been blasphemed as the most atrocious
aspect of magic. Humans, sorcerers and other creatures see it as a form of
grave robbery and foul debauchery. Such old wives’ tales have influenced
even necromancers to refrain from practicing evocation. Your family’s
name has always been venerated in supernatural communities. And when a
Dustrikke openly rejects the idea of evocation, it doesn’t just raise a few
eyebrows. It creates chaos.”
FML! I had screwed up again. What was more, I had even succeeded in
dragging my family’s name into my mess. Weighted pressure instantly
settled in my chest above the Eitrhals necklace’s pendant. I clutched it to
alleviate some of the guilt, vexation and disappointment, which fiercely
stormed over me.
I used to think being Leah Dust was hard in the human world, but being
Learyn Dustrikke and living up to everyone’s expectations proved to be
close to impossible.
“Sorry,” I mumbled quietly, “I didn’t know.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Speaking of which, you must be present in the
castle’s auditorium on Friday evening at eight sharp.”
“Present for what?”
“I’ll gather a group of narrow-minded island residents, who’ve been
affected by your actions, in an attempt to talk some sense into them. I want
you to attend.”
“You’re not going to make me give speeches, right?”
“Of course not. Actions speak louder than words, Miss Dustrikke, and
your unruly actions have spoken eloquently.”
Over the next half an hour, Svensson didn’t make any hints or direct
complains about how many problems I created, but my time with her was
anything but pleasant.
I learned that every living human or supernatural being was made of
three basic fragments – a soul, a spirit and a body. Necromancers could
influence these fragments in a postmortem stage. In other words, they could
gain control over someone’s corpse, apparition or soul only after said
someone had died.
Svensson told me raising people from the dead in their full form meant
not only reanimating the corpse, but actually weaving the soul and spirit
back into the corporeal shell.
During my exercises with her, I was supposed to learn how to do it step
by step, starting with learning how to evoke a spirit. Spirits either remained
here, in our world, or they ascended onto a different plane. Then came the
next step – evoking a soul from beyond, which usually meant from Freya’s
or Odin’s abodes in Asgard. The final step was putting the soul and spirit
back into the body, while conducting magical energy from my eitr core and
using it as a thread to sew the pieces together.
It all sounded easy and only slightly disturbing, up until Svensson
showed me a pentagram in a circle with some intertwining runic symbols.
So much for Nordstrøm residents not worshipping Satan!
“This is a Spirit Trap,” she explained before I even asked. “It keeps the
summoned spirit within its bounds until you banish it. What I want from
you is to focus on the face of a deceased friend, relative or another person
you’ve known, and call their spirit into the pentagram. Think about the
deceased, rid your mind of distractions, and focus on the notion of
summoning their spirit. It shouldn’t be hard for a Class Five caster.”
I backed away in my chair.
“Ew!” A groan of disgust tore my chest. “I’m so not disturbing the few
dead people I’ve known before they died! By the way, how am I supposed
to call a spirit here, when spirits can’t get inside the castle?”
“They can, only if they’re summoned inside such pentagrams. If you
don’t wish to summon a familiar spirit, you can choose one from your
distant ancestors. Most novices find it easier to evoke a family member.
You will find extensive chronicles of the Dustrikke bloodline with portraits
and names in the library wing’s Section RA1. As for not disturbing the
dead, Miss Dustrikke, please open your ears during the group meeting I’ll
be holding on Friday. And don’t be late.”
The second she let me go, I bolted for the exit.
I had trashed rooms, murdered guards, made zombies who attacked
innocent people, burned my roommate, and splattered black stains over my
Goody Two Shoes family’s praised history. The Council had given me a
powerful amulet, because they thought I’d become a soulless freak or I’d
attempt to bring a demonic entity here. That blonde bimbo Aurora had
threatened to kill me and stash my body somewhere where it wouldn’t be
found, right after she had actually killed me.
My family had raised me in hiding from the supernatural world, and
now I finally understood why. Someone needed to invent a brand-new
word, because “insanity” didn’t begin to cover this madness!
My old friends were right. People indeed had real problems, and after
spending almost a month here, I was finally able to admit it. My aunt was
wrong to send me to Norway. This hellhole wasn’t safe for me. It wasn’t
safe for anyone!
But Adaline Dust, or the Adaline Dust I knew, had never made a rash
decision in her life. There wasn’t a single frivolous and reckless bone in her
body. She always thought everything through.
If my aunt thought there was something scarier out there, she wasn’t
delusional. Which meant only one thing – I had to pull it together and learn
how to cope with the threats here, instead of exposing myself to whatever
was lurking in the shadows outside.
The way I saw it, Aurora posed the most promising and probably most
imminent threat.
I remembered the invisible shield-like wall she had made when I tried to
attack her. That seemed like a defensive mechanism I could use if she went
homicidal again. But Aurora wasn’t a newbie, so she probably knew some
counter-technique to the shield thingy. I needed something more efficient.
A second later, the brilliant idea hit me like an impetuous tidal wave.
My family had put a suppression spell on my powers. It had been so
efficient, my magic had remained buried deep within me until the guards
lifted the spell. Biting my lips in an attempt to hide the mischievous smile
stretching my face, I walked back to my bedroom, carefully planning my
next moves.

* * *

It was almost midnight when I tiptoed to the library.

I decided to be optimistic and bite back the unpleasant notion that the
book I was looking for might be hidden in the Warded Sections.
Slowly, quietly and sneakily, I climbed the mezzanine landings on the
left. The ones up top were the Warded Sections and below them were some
books on non-magical subjects; so I decided to start from the top of Section
L3 and work my way down to L1, then move over to the nine levels on the
right. I stopped in front of every bookcase, trying to evoke a nameless book
or books by whispering various keywords under my nose.
Magic suppression… Magic suppression spell… Suppression spell…
Suppress magic… Trap magic… Bottle up magic… Repression spell…
Confine magic…
Nothing happened.
With each new passing moment, my optimistic attitude evaporated little
by little. Finally, it was replaced by such overwhelming frustration, I went
into a full-blown state of Bitch Mode: Activated.
By the time I reached the deepest corners of Section L2, I was
overtaken by the need to punch something. Not a single book had answered
my calling!
“You fucking piece of Norse shit!”
I snarled at yet another useless bookcase and tried not to kick it. I still
had lots of cases to check and not enough toes to spare by starting with the
violent acts so soon.
“Excuse me?”
The familiar voice was followed by a familiar blond head popping
behind the shelves. Dann. FML! Like I needed something else to be
irritated at!
“Not you!” I snapped with caustic tone, wishing he’d get lost.
“Do you have an issue with my library, then?” he asked perceptively.
“No… maybe,” I admitted halfway. “I’m just looking for a book and
can’t find it.”
“Did you ask your book club, coven or study group if they have it?”
“I don’t have either of those.”
 Well, I had Geira Brekke’s book club, but those people had a hard time
being in the same room with me. I sure as hell wasn’t going share plots and
schemes with them.
“You should at least join a study group. It will make practicing your
magic easier.”
“No, thanks. Even if the entire island stopped seeing me as Sauron, the
great Dark Lord of Mordor, I’d still prefer studying magic alone.”
A low, velar, chuckling sound emerged from his throat. Like clockwork,
my irritant receptors went insane, as if they were strained and burned to
white hot incandescence.
“All right, Sauron, which book are you looking for?”
Shit! Wasn’t there somebody else he could chat with? I didn’t even
know the name of the book or books on the subject! And I definitely didn’t
want to tell him I was looking for a spell to suppress his own sister’s magic.
“Never mind, it was something for leisure reading. You probably don’t
have an English edition here, and I’m sure it wasn’t translated in
Norwegian.”
“We can order it.”
Order it? Why was he being so forgiving, helpful and nice to me? If he
had to judge by what he’d seen from my bitchy self since I came to this
island, I didn’t deserve it. I had never, ever met anyone who endured my
short fuse and treated me with kindness, in spite of it.
For some reason, my Eitrhals became heavier again. Was it because I
was a disappointment to the famous Dustrikke name? Or because I was
standing across someone accomplished, who hadn’t stained his equally
famous name, unlike me?
“Learyn?” he asked, yanking me out of my thoughts. “What’s the
book’s name?”
Maybe he had heard about his precious sister’s actions and was trying to
make up for her murderous deeds. Otherwise why would he press the
subject and act so helpful when I wasn’t deserving of it?
“It’s not important, and I can probably find it online.”
“As you wish. Now come with me, please.”
I obeyed silently. He guided me back to the main mezzanine landing of
Section L2, then down the curved stairs, and paused in front of a bookcase
in L1. His index finger ran over the spine of a tiny book, lost in the
grandeur of hundreds of volumes labeled under the sign Poetry.
 Dann Nordstrøm, who gave lectures on solid facts and history, read
poetry?!
That was unexpected. Even more unexpectedly, he didn’t evoke the
book, unlike everyone else around here. He just touched the spine, like
human people did when they were browsing through a shelf. To my further
surprise, he took out the book and held it in my direction, as if waiting for
me to take it.
“The kenning might seem confusing if you’re not used to Old Norse
texts,” he said quietly, then switched directly to English. “She bade me
travel to a place where travel one cannot, to meet with fair Mengloth. I
believe that’s how it went. Hmm, no, it doesn’t have the same ring to it in
English. It’s better if you stick to the original.”
Did he recite from the book? And why did he do it in my language?
His voice was quiet, lower than usual. I detected something strangely
familiar in his accent and tone; not a déjà vu, but… different. It sounded
more like I had heard these English words spoken in the very same tone and
timbre, but not here in this library.
But it was impossible. Poetry was something I had never read before.
Besides, I hadn’t met Dann until this November, so why was I experiencing
such a weird sensation?
Maybe hearing English for the first time in a while subconsciously
made me nostalgic and clingy for the chance to experience something
familiar from my old human life.
“I don’t understand.”
“The Spell of Gróa. It’s a short seventeenth century Norse poem, or
rather, the seventeenth century revision of an old twelfth century poem. I
want you to read it.”
My good old cynicism returned with a scoff. “What, you give poetry to
all of your lecture attendees when they need to expand their vocabulary
beyond swear words?”
“When I refer reading material to someone, be it poetry or not, I don’t
do it because of their vocabulary.”
I smiled wryly. “Aww, and here I thought I was a special case because
I’m… What did you call me? A marvel of acrimonious vulgarity?”
“You are, yet unfortunately, nothing in this book will correct your
language.”
 My smile evaporated just like my optimism had vanished earlier. His
gaze swayed towards the frayed corners of the blue binding, and he pressed
the booklet to his torso, completely contradicting the concept of handing it
to me. Now I was even more confused.
“I haven’t referred the Svipdagsmál poems to anyone before you.”
His voice lacked the usual calming friendliness and occasionally
condescending tone. He looked almost… was it mournful? I couldn’t
understand his emotion, but it made me feel awkward. Like I had just
invaded the privacy of his thoughts.
“Since they’re obviously precious to you, why are you giving them to
me?”
He remained silent for a while, then finally lifted his gaze. Those bright
blue eyes weren’t mournful. They were piercing, especially when paired
with the words that followed.
“I believe you’ll relate to the hero. Svipdag is a confused, yet strong-
willed necromancer, who’s on the brink of an uneasy journey. He’s lost his
trusted parental figure and is about to make a transition from the life he’s
grown to know to a perilous one others have chosen for him. He doesn’t
really trust anyone he meets, and relies on his wits instead of betting
everything solely on magic.”
I simply stood there, breathless and immobilized by the boundless
depths of his penetrating, know-it-all stare. Was Dann talking about
Svipdag or me? He reached out and pulled my arm before I could recover
with some biting remark about how he didn’t know me.
“Just read the poem, along with the one called The Lay of Fjölsvid,” he
added, putting the booklet in my hand.
“Okay.”
It was all I could mutter, still shocked by his words. He spun around and
took a step, but then turned back to me.
“Do you remember what happened after my first lecture at the
beginning of November? The vision you had of us being among ruins? Has
it happened again?”
A gasp escaped me. I had forgotten about the vision in view of every
other sinister thing taking its toll on me. That, on top of spending half a day
in the library in fruitless search of explanations for that hallucination.
“No, it hasn’t happened again, because I’m not a freak who’s
hallucinating things.”
 He leaned sideways against the bookcase. “Learyn, a hallucination does
not make you a freak. Though, I understand why you’d see it this way,
having in mind you were raised like a human.”
“Yeah? Then how do you explain it?”
“I can’t form a theory unless I know more details.”
Facing his calm features, I crossed my arms over my chest, careful not
to damage the small booklet. “Are you interrogating me on behalf of the
Council right now?”
“The Council doesn’t know because I haven’t told them, therefore I’m
not interrogating you. I’m simply asking you to tell me what happened.”
“Why now? You refused to acknowledge it the day it happened.”
He shrugged. “You’re less hostile than you were before.”
FML! Why was he so freaking perceptive?
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Would it help if I promise not to call the nearest loony bin?”
“Ha-ha. Nothing happened. My mind played some trick on me because
I was deprived of sleep and reading creepy stuff before bed. That’s it.”
His eyes narrowed in an intimidating stare. My heart skipped a beat. I
didn’t like him this close in my personal space, looking at me like that. He
was doing a damn good job of analyzing me. I didn’t like it at all!
Keeping my mouth shut, I tried to remain mindful of my short fuse. The
last thing I needed was to explode again thanks to my most trustworthy
defensive mechanism of all – anger.
“Should you change your mind, please know you can come and talk to
me about it whenever you want to.”
Before I could recover from his unexpected response, he was already
walking away. I thought he’d keep pressing the subject, but instead, he gave
me space and an open invitation. Wow. His Excellency was full of surprises
tonight.
“Dann, wait!” I ran up to him, trying to appear as composed as possible
with atrocious words burning on my tongue. “Do you really keep a book
with a binding made of human flesh in the library’s Warded Sections?
Maksim joked about it once.”
His chest contracted with a loud sigh.
“More than one book. Human skin was used for all pages, held together
by threads of Dökkálfar hair. The contents are written in Linnorm blood.
May I ask why you’re interested in books crafted from human, elven and
draconic blood and body parts?”
I shuddered at the thought of what those books contained. “Draconic
blood? As in dragons? They exist?”
“They do. Linnorms are amphibian wingless dragons, dwelling in
Midgardian swamps and rivers. Although their population is declining, they
are more widespread than land dragons.”
“Why would someone kill a Linnorm to make ink from its blood?”
Dann’s head dropped to the side. “Why would someone kill a rhino to
make display items from its horn? Or a tiger for its skin? A pangolin for its
scales? Or a leatherback sea turtle for its carapace?”
“Because people are shit,” I replied without even thinking on the
answer.
“Not all people.”
The soft way his eyes scanned mine was eloquent. I kept my mouth
shut, knowing it was only a matter of time before he was disappointed in
me, like everyone else who got too close.
“Will you tell me why you’re asking about those books in particular?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. Call it unhealthy curiosity.”
“Oh? Not trying to live up to your Sauron image, then?”
The corners of my mouth stretched into a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not
shooting for world domination yet.”
“Pity. I was looking forward to embarking on a search for two Hobbits
who’d help me stop you.”
The visual of Dann waving a stick, dressed as Gandalf, sprang to my
mind, and I barely bit back my laughter.
“Thanks. Good to know I’ll have someone ready to fight me if I go into
Dark Witch Mode: Activated. And thanks for not blabbing to the Council
about my... moment of craziness.”
He nodded and stepped away. “Read the poems.”
Watching him disappear behind the bookcases, I wondered if he would
have put shackles on my hands instead of a book if he knew what I was
planning on doing.
Thanks to nearly being caught red-handed, I chickened out and decided
to leave my spell hunt for another day.
Monika had returned to our bedroom at some point during my midnight
crusade, and was now sleeping in her bed. As someone who’d been raised
like a necromancer and the daughter of a Council member, she probably
knew about suppression spells. I had to ask her tomorrow, though. She was
chatty, but she was always tired, so I didn’t want to ruin her sleep.
Then again, if she knew I was looking for such a powerful and
dangerous spell, maybe she would tell her mother? Would she do that? She
was nice and compassionate, but we’d known each other for less than a
month. I wasn’t sure if I could trust her with something so important.
Friends and boyfriends had betrayed me in the past for a lot less.
I took a deep breath and kneeled next to her bed.
“Monika?” I pushed her shoulder. Silence. “Hey, Monika, I have to ask
you something.”
She produced an inarticulate sound, turning the other way. “Five
more… minutes.”
“Just tell me where I can find one book.”
“Books… study… tomorrow…”
I bit my lips and exhaled. This was it. Now or never.
“Where can I find a spell to suppress magic?”
“Suppress magic,” she repeated, then went silent.
If she asked about it tomorrow, I could always tell her she’d been
dreaming and this entire conversation had never happened. Pretending was
something I had become moderately good at over the past year.
“Where in the library can I find a spell that suppresses magic?”
“No… not library,” she mumbled. “Spell too powerful…”
“What?”
“Spell… too powerful… for necromancers.”
No. Fucking. Way.
“So, necromancers can’t cast magic suppression spells?”
“No… can’t… five minutes.”
That meant my family had used someone else to cast the spell on me. It
also meant I had just lost my perfect solution to coping with Aurora.
I crawled back to my bed as quietly as possible while numerous F
bombs exploded with a sensational uproar in every inch of my brain.
* * *

Fortunately, I didn’t eat breakfast, so I didn’t have to worry about seeing

Aurora in the morning. Unfortunately, I couldn’t avoid her forever in her
own freaking castle. There was going to come a point when she’d see me.
As I headed for my one-on-one session with Brühl, I reassured myself she
wasn’t going to kill me in a crowded place. She’d said it herself – it would
be in a place where no one would see me, and most importantly, where they
wouldn’t find my corpse for weeks.
If I stayed in this room, I would be safe for now. Someone had already
replaced the windows, desks, chairs and the whiteboard after I had lashed
out last time, so hiding in here was at least cozy.
“Brühl!” I darted towards him as soon as he walked in. “I want you to
teach me something.”
His brows furrowed in a scolding manner.
“That’s why I’ve been appointed as your mentor, Dustrikke.”
“I want you to teach me how to cast a shield and how to make one that
can withstand any counter-shield magic.”
“That’s advanced defense magic. You’re not ready for it. Go sit.”
“But what if something happens to me? I want to learn how to defend
myself.”
“Open your eyes, Dustrikke! You’re on an island full of verdammte
Kinder who can’t control the death magic they were born with. Something
will happen to you, sooner or later.”
“What does that even mean? Verdammte Kinder. You’re always
repeating it.”
“Fucking children.”
“Well, one of those fucking children is trying to murder me. I want to
know how to defend myself.”
He shrugged. “You already died once. If it happens again, someone will
bring you back.”
“How can you be so freaking cool about it?”
“Need I remind you that you were born with death magic, Dustrikke,
and not fairy wings? Go sit! We have work to do on your elements, not on
your silly social problems.”
Did he just call the death threat on my life a silly social problem?
I opened my mouth to protest, but he pointed at the nearest desk. There
was no point in telling him how much I needed him to teach me about
shields, because it was his boss’ niece who had made the threats. If I
opened up about the truth, he’d probably laugh. Or worse – agree with
Aurora that she was in her right to do whatever she wanted because her
family owned the place.
 Brühl grabbed an empty chair, dragged it across me, and straddled the
back post, resting his arms on it. Oh, well, at least he was sitting on a chair
this time.
He pulled out something from his pocket, then placed it on the desk
between us. A short, wide candle.
“Since your fire element broke out, as did your air, you’ll practice with
this candle.” Before finishing the sentence, he had already lit up the wick.
“Extinguish it.”
I sucked in a deep breath of air. Brühl raised a hand.
“Without blowing on it!”
I wasn’t going to do that, but I couldn’t really blame him for thinking I
would. After all, he wasn’t some bored, shriveled professor who didn’t care
for anything but rattling off his lesson. He was first and foremost a guard.
Being suspicious was probably in the job description. That, on top of the
fact I had already tried to cheat last time.
I spread my palms over the desk, positioning them on both sides of the
candle, and focused my eyes on the trembling air above the flame. I
imagined it trembling further down, swishing sideways, becoming stronger,
blowing the flame away.
Nothing happened.
I imagined the air in the entire room being sucked in to one side, then
swishing to the other, and extinguishing the flame on its way.
Still nothing.
I imagined the windows opening to blow in an air current; a windy
breeze that would put out the fire.
Nada.
“Wanna talk shit to me and get me angry?” I asked after my third
fruitless attempt. “It worked last time.”
“You’re here to learn how to control your magic; not to experiment with
emotions.”
“Tap into my magical core, right?” I repeated the sentence he had said
over and over again during our previous sessions.
“Yes, tap into core, focus, and try not to vandalize the room again.”
I eyed the ceiling, inhaled and glanced back down.
This time, I tried something completely different. When my air element
had broken out, I’d felt like my lungs were being ripped open. As if the
tornado trashing the room had come from my own body. So, instead of
thinking about the oxygen in the room, my thoughts swerved to the one
inside me. Focusing on it – not just on my magical core, but on all of me – I
imagined it flowing out of my chest and speeding towards the candle.
A split of a second passed before a blast of air stormed out of my chest,
hitting the small candle so hard, it flew straight for Brühl’s torso.
But before it could hit him, the candle clashed with an incorporeal wall.
The melted wax splattered all over it and the blobs remained motionless,
hanging freely in the air. It was as though someone had pressed the pause
button. A moment later, that someone pressed the reverse motion button,
and everything returned neatly in its place, except for the flame. Brühl had
left that part out.
I had forgotten how to breathe.
“Dude, that was freaking fantastic!”
“Light it up using your fire element.”
“What, don’t I get praise for a job well done?”
The acidulous look etched on his face was anything but impressed.
“You’re expected to do magic, and I’m not expected to clap when you
do. Moreover, that was not a job well done. I told you to extinguish the
flame, not to dramatize with hot candle wax.”
“Hey, do you think we might be related? You’re always snapping at me
and acting way too cynical.”
“Do you think I’m enjoying these sessions? If I wanted to spend my
days teaching clueless children, I would have joined the teaching staff at a
supernatural school!”
“Said the guy spending his days guarding these clueless children.”
“What I’m guarding is a divine legacy and the survival of my kind.
Now light up the candle!”
I rolled my eyes and bit back a swear word, which was the Norwegian
equivalent of his Scheisse. Why couldn’t they appoint me someone like
Marcus Dahl? He wasn’t chatty during Aperture exercises, but he still
seemed like a better fit for a mentor.
I tried to push Brühl’s irritating behavior out of my system and get back
to the task at hand.
Following the same technique I had used earlier, I imagined the fire
seeping through every fiber in my body and shooting itself at the candle’s
wick. After a few attempts, I had to admit defeat. Even though it had been a
winning formula with the air element, the same couldn’t be said for fire.
 I spent the next few hours practicing only with the air.
With each new attempt, the candle’s trajectory became shorter and
shorter. It was no longer flying across the desk, but simply gliding over it,
as if someone was dragging it towards Brühl. He finally gave up on making
me do it again and again. It became crystal clear I wouldn’t be able to
extinguish the wick without moving the entire candle.
* * *
When I first came to the island, the weather had seemed too nice for a
November in the north. But as the days rolled by, the temperatures outside
rapidly dropped. Ironically, a similar sequence unraveled within me.
Whenever I thought of my aunt, icy disdain settled in my entire being.
There were moments when I regretted my outburst. Each time I was on
the brink of dialing her number to apologize and ask when she would come
here, I remembered Dann’s words. She had spoken with the Council and
made decisions on my behalf without bothering to inform me of said
decisions. Although I acted childish, I was well over eighteen. I had the
legal right to decide how to live my life.
On Friday night, shit hit the fan once again, and fortunately, my aunt
wasn’t there to see it.
Patricia Svensson had finally gathered her audience of non-believers in
Dann’s auditorium, and even the huge room couldn’t seat everyone. It was
literally full of people. Seriously, how could I have screwed up to such an
extent?
Pretending I was blind and deaf to everyone’s startled, scared and
scandalized expressions and whispers, I remained on my feet, glued to a
wall near the exit. Just in case the audience decided to show me the
Norwegian version of the Salem witch trials.
My gruesome train of thought quickly derailed when a white haze
materialized out of nowhere next to Svensson, who was standing on the
podium. It slowly took the form of a humanoid figure, until it became the
embodiment of the word scribbled on the whiteboard – apparition. A female
ghost. An actual ghost.
How was it even possible, when spirits couldn’t enter the castle outside
a Spirit Trap? Had the Council removed some of their special wards and
protections just for this show?
“This is the spirit of Agnes Brekke.”
 The apparition gestured to us with her translucent hand, and a weary
smile curved on her transparent face. Was she related to Geira Brekke? The
latter one had a calming presence, whereas the spirit made my skin crawl in
a ghastly way. The only ghost I had ever seen was my Gjenferdet swallow
spirit, which had ended catastrophically.
“Seeing as some of you had issues with this particular postmortem
stage,” Svensson continued, “I believe she can share some of her wisdom
with you.”
The apparition swayed sideways, then stepped towards the aisle
between the rows with tables. Only, it wasn’t stepping. It was flowing over
the ground, gliding through the air. She came to a halt at the top row on the
end of the aisle and remained there.
“The fallacious notion that evoking one’s spirit represents disturbance
of one’s afterlife is a fond delusion, an invention of humans and magic
practitioners, aimed at spreading fear of necromancy.”
I had no idea why the ghost of this woman hinted we’re not disturbing
dead people by evoking their spirits. But I was sure of one thing – seeing
this, hearing her, learning how to evoke a spirit, all of it was utterly
disturbing on its own.
Biting back the eerie feeling that there were dozens of spiders creeping
up and down my spine, I tried to steady my tremulous body.
“We rest through other means,” she added as her form swayed down the
aisle. “Our corporeal remains soil the earths. Our spirits dwell in Midgard
or transcend onto another plane, until they are called upon by those who
seek our wisdom and guidance. Only our soul rests in peace, if welcomed
through the gates of Valhalla’s noble glory or in the meadow of Folkvang’s
adorning light.”
“Thank you, Agnes.” Svensson nodded, and the apparition dispersed
into a translucent fog, quickly disappearing from sight. “Now that the
subject of disturbing the dead has been covered and dealt with, you can rid
yourselves of such foolish prejudices.”
“But, Patricia–”
“I will not hear more of this grave robbing nonsense!”
She interrupted an elderly man who had spoken from the front rows. As
if this gathering wasn’t creepy enough, Svensson gestured to me.
“Maybe Miss Dustrikke’s presence will give you peace of mind.”
 There it was again. The frostbite. It nailed me to my spot, trapping
every inch of my body under glaciers.
Don’t open your mouth. Don’t tell them to go collectively fuck
themselves. Don’t stir up another shitstorm.
“Miss Dustrikke?” Svensson approached me, and the only sounds in the
entire auditorium came from the tapping of her shoes and the rustling of her
guard’s uniform. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Was she for real? Asking me to stand up and talk, when she had
explicitly told me I wouldn’t have to?
“I believe we’ve seen enough, Patricia,” some woman’s voice flew to
my ears. “The girl is clearly against the practices of evocation. Thank you
for proving what we’ve always known. Such practices should be eradicated.
Young Miss Dustrikke’s face–”
“Don’t!” I interrupted her, barely withholding the urge to scream the
words at the top of my lungs. “Don’t speak on my behalf! Don’t use me as a
means to influence people! Don’t attribute me your beliefs! And don’t
expect me to sit through your issues and pick sides! If you treated my
family with the same expectations, they were in their right to avoid your
communities! Use your fucking heads and leave me out of it!”
I bolted for the exit under the cacophony of at least a hundred voices,
but for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I was running away from
my problems. I felt like I had just solved one, which others had tried to
throw in my face.
Unfortunately, all I really sensed was more of the same old frostbite,
gnawing, munching, eating through my heart.

* * *
On Saturday morning, the ice shattered for a little while during my group
exercise with Marcus Dahl.
Muttering the Helbrede incantation under my nose and gawking at the
twigs in front of me, I was making progress. The healing process was
happening with the speed of a dying snail, but hey, at least it was
happening.
“Vee!” Marcus’ yell yanked me out of the trance-like wide-eyed focus
on my twigs, and I glanced around.
Locating the big elephant in the room wasn’t hard.
 Vee’s side of our table was taken over by its own biosphere. Instead of a
handful of dead twigs, the entire corner was covered by the trunks of ebony
black plants. Thorns and branches spanned from them, curling upwards to
the ceiling, where they spread to all sides, forming a messy bundle. It defied
the laws of gravity. Eerily resembling an upside-down cable salad, the
creepy branches extended into leafless sprigs. Pointy, ferric-colored flowers
blossomed here and there, adding to the pile of abnormalities.
I was no florist, but these things looked like they didn’t belong on our
planet.
Looking back down at the trunks, I noticed they didn’t just emerge from
the table’s end. Chipped and uneven roots supported the trunks, wrapped
around the table’s leg, shrouding the silvery steel with their blackness.
Vee sat statuesquely on her futon, staring at Marcus with the expression
of a scared child who knew something bad was about to happen.
“Oh, don’t be mad, Mr. Dahl,” an irritatingly familiar voice came from
my left. “The mutt must be missing her homeland.”
I turned to meet Heimir Aagard’s cocky smirk. I wanted to grab all of
my branches and stick them into his face until he resembled Hellraiser’s
Pinhead.
“Silence!” The guard’s order didn’t erase that dick’s smile. “Vee,
reverse them to their original form.”
“I’m sorry,” Vee whispered, “I didn’t mean to, it just happened.”
I remembered reading about the Dökkálfar and how they came to be in
some of my books for the Magiessence book club. The first Dökkálfar were
hybrids between humans and the elves residing in Svartalfheim. They
inherited the Svartálfar elves’ physical appearances and some of their
magical abilities. Dann still hadn’t started lecturing us about Svartalfheim,
but judging by Aagard’s words, the plants Vee had created from her dead
branches grew in Svartalfheim.
Vee closed her eyes. The air around her trembled as the winding and
climbing plants shrunk down. The roots, flowers and branches retracted. In
a few short moments, all traces of the unnatural flora had vanished, leaving
nothing but a pile of ordinary dry twigs.
At the end of our exercise, I ran to Vee and nudged a piece of paper in
her hand. I wanted to tell her how her accident wasn’t a big deal and she
shouldn’t let racists like Aagard bring her down. But she had reacted badly
the last time I tried to talk to her, so a short note was a better option than a
verbal pep-talk.
Don’t worry about it. I accidentally trashed an entire room during my
Elemental one-on-one sessions. Growing a bunch of plants is better than
vandalizing the castle.
I hoped it would ease her embarrassment about being mocked and
bullied. If I was to die from Aurora’s wrath soon, I could at least do
something nice before heading straight for that black void, right?
Once I shoved the note in Vee’s hand, I hurried after Heimir. Maybe I
had a death wish. Or maybe I already had one foot in the grave, courtesy of
Aurora’s hatred for me. And maybe those were simply my excuses for
acting stupid.
“Heimir!” I growled, running around him and barring his way once we
descended the tower.
He waved off his pals, caught my elbow, and dragged me to the side. I
tried to free my hand, but his grip was too tight.
“Let me go and listen, shitface! If you keep messing with Vee or others,
you’ll be my next Draug’s target!”
He chuckled. “Do you think I’m scared of Draugar? I’ve been around
them since before you could speak. My childhood nanny was a Draug, and I
assure you, I know how to neutralize one.”
What the hell? Had his parents made him practice neutralizing magic on
the nanny? Did they make him kill her and bring her to life, so he could kill
her again? My imagination almost made me shudder, but I managed to
recover on time.
“Aww, what happened? No one wanted to deal with the little brat, so
your folks had to zombify the nanny?”
“Yeah, something like that.” He frowned, but didn’t let go. “Don’t mix
with the mutt.”
“Stop calling her a mutt! She has a name!”
He pulled me closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Yeah, and you
have a name too, Dustrikke. Whose do you care to preserve? Hers or
yours?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Heimir!” Someone shouted his name from behind me. “What’s taking
so long?”
 I studied his glower as neither of us spoke for a few seconds. He
seemed thirty-ish, which didn’t explain why he was acting like he hadn’t
grown a brain yet.
“Mark my words, Dustrikke,” he hissed the same thing he’d told me the
first time we spoke. “Don’t mix with her or other Dökkálfar.”
“Blow me!” I hissed back.
The asshole opened his mouth, closed it, and growled out an inarticulate
sound. Just as I pondered over the idea of trying to use my air element
offensively, he released my arm and walked away with the same furrowing
glare.
* * *
I went to the library in the afternoon in hopes of finding a book that would
teach me how to cast a shield against Aurora’s possible attacks.
Much to my surprise, I found a total of three volumes containing
information on magical shields. I was about to take them to my room when
I noticed there was something off with the light coming from the nine
gigantic windows.
It was a bright day outside, but there was a strange sort of softness to
the light. It wasn’t golden like always before, but rather white-ish, like it
came from LED lights instead of sunlight.
I stared at the stained glass for a while before it finally dawned on me.
Back in San Francisco, I had never seen such light come from our
windows. Not because they weren’t made of stained glass, but because San
Francisco was in coastal California. And for my twenty years on this planet,
I had never seen a snowfall in coastal California.
Quickly returning the books to their cases and exiting the library, I ran
off to one of the inner courtyards.
The grassy terrain was completely covered by a thick layer of snow. My
ankles sank in it, as if it was made of cotton. For as far as my eyes could
see, everything was white and reflective, glistening under the soft sunlight.
Millions of snowflakes flew around me, pale and twinkling, landing on the
ground, the naked trees, the barely visible benches and gazebos.
I was so stunned, I couldn’t even feel the cold temperatures.
Some people were taking a stroll in the courtyard, while others were
engaged in a snowball fight. Despite them, everything felt so calm, serene
and silent, as if we were on a virgin island, untouched by mankind.
 I lifted my palms up, facing the sky, and tilted my head back. While the
floating islands were supposed to provide some sort of cover and prevent
the snow from falling all over the place, they didn’t. The cotton blanket
wasn’t patchy. Still, I moved over to a spot where I wouldn’t be under a
floating parcel of land, and closed my eyes.
The snowflakes fell directly onto my skin, covering my nose, my
cheeks, my forehead, my parted lips and my closed eyelids. Each snowflake
stung for a fragment of a second before it melted on me, only to be replaced
by another one. Every drop of snow, every nanosecond, every stinging
pinch was so divine, it felt like each snowflake was a piece of heaven. And
heaven was slowly falling from the sky, bit by tiny bit.
“Hey, are you okay?”
A familiar voice pulled me out of my reverie. I noticed Maksim, who
was standing a few feet away.
Suddenly, I felt the cold in all its glory, as freezing chills ran through
my entire being, hitting in all the places that were both bare and covered by
clothes. I was only wearing my Converses, jeans and a thin sweater with no
coat or jacket, or even boots. Seeing him dressed for winter, I felt like we
were in his hometown of Karasjok instead of in Southwestern Norway.
“Yeah.” I flashed him a teeth-chattering smile. “I was j-just ad-admiring
t-the snow.”
“Almost naked? I take it you don’t have snow in California?”
“We d-do!” I corrected him with a frown, sensing a heatwave of
annoyance, but it wasn’t sufficient enough to warm up my body. “We j-just
don’t g-get it in San F-Francisco. And it’s n-not like I hav-ven’t seen s-
snow b-before.”
It wasn’t a lie. I had seen snow during winter vacation trips in other
parts of California. And once in New York. But I had never seen the first
snowfall up until now. My room had thick blackout curtains, probably
because Monika was one of those people who needed total darkness to fall
asleep, so I had missed the exact time when it had started snowing.
Maksim placed his hands on my shoulders. The chills became even
more freezing for a second, before I realized it was due to Aperture’s side
effects. He had teleported us in the castle’s main entryway.
“H-how ch-chivalrous!” I exclaimed with sarcasm, pulling away from
him and rubbing my hands together.
He scratched the back of his neck.
 “I didn’t mean to offend you, but you were standing motionless and
irresponsive. I thought something was off when I saw you from behind.”
“N-nothing’s off, I was j-just admiring t-the s-snow!” I snapped. Crap, I
was acting out again, when all he had done was be nice. “S-sorry about t-
that. T-thanks for ch-checking up on me, t-though.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” I replied, clenching my jaw to keep it still.
“Are you sure? I have to get to the training grounds, but if you want to,
you can hang out with us during practice.”
I shook my head.
“It’s warm there.”
I shook my head again.
“Do you want to hang out later? We can build a snowman or do a
snowball fight, or whatever it is you want to do while admiring the snow, as
long as you get properly dressed.”
I could either hang out with his friends, who probably wouldn’t want
me there, or I could get back to those books and find a way to protect
myself against Aurora. My choice was a no-brainer.
“I h-have s-some read-ding in t-the library.”
“Well, if you change your mind…”
I gave him a thumbs-up instead of producing a verbal answer, and
marched off to the library wing.
Skimming through books for the rest of the day taught me there were
two types of magical shields. Sadly, I had no idea which one I needed or
which one would be easier to learn. Even worse was the written note that
Wanderers, out of all types of creatures capable of performing Aperture,
could pierce through those shields. Or rather teleport on both sides of the
shields, which was still a way of piercing through them. In other words,
even if I succeeded in learning how to cast both types, Aurora would be
able to teleport between me and my shield.
So much for my new plan of coping with the blondie!
My roommate had been a no-show all weekend long, and only came
back in the middle of the night between Sunday and Monday, waking me up
with a deafening bang.
“What the fuuuck?” I exclaimed half-asleep, illuminating our room with
my phone.
 Monika was sitting on the floor amidst books. The coffee table was
knocked off beside her. She attempted to get up, lost balance, fell down, and
shook with high-pitched giggles, different from her usual laughter.
“Are you hammered?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. A quick glance at my
phone’s screen revealed it was past three in the morning.
“With…” She trailed off, giggled again, got up and dragged herself to
bed. “My uni buddy.”
“The hell?”
“Uni buddy. Shots. Akvavit. Mm, yeah.”
In an instant, she hit the pillow and fell asleep. I had no idea what her
words meant, but I was in no condition to think about them, so I turned the
other way and went back to sleep.
When morning came, Monika was still in the very same position.
Seeing her like this reminded me why I only drank alcohol twice a year.
Vomiting, hangovers and other nasty outcomes left aside, I had learned the
hard way that drinking didn’t solve any problem. It only made you forget
for a little while. Then it made the problem worse by dumping the full-
blown realization of it the next morning, savagely cutting through the
temporary, drunken, ignorant bliss.
I wasn’t one of those people who posted I hate Mondays memes every
Monday on social media, because I had deactivated all my accounts last
year. Still, I felt the urge to use those memes today.
Whether it was the weather or the tons of information I’d learned since
coming here, I wasn’t sure of the reason, but I felt like I’d been the one
drinking. Struggling to stay awake during my Magiessence book club
meeting, I barely noticed how the book club members, who had finally
warmed up to me, were now distancing themselves or glaring at me. It was
probably due to my very public Bitch Mode: Activated explosion last week
during Patricia Svensson’s ghostly show in the auditorium.
I also struggled to focus in Aperture in the afternoon. Marcus Dahl
organized another group exercise, but I wasn’t making any progress.
“Mind, senses, landing, Miss Dustrikke,” he reminded me the principals
of Aperture. “Banish any distractions from your mind. Keep the focus on
your somatosensory system’s sense of touch. Forget about the limitations of
any barrier in space and time. Think about where your landing will take
place. Take corporeal form into it.”
 I knew there were wards around the training grounds, preventing
someone from accidentally materializing outside. Still, all my attempts were
fruitless. With closed eyes, I centered my thoughts on going poof and
landing on a padded mat exactly three feet away from my spot.
Corporeal form. Landing. Corporeal form and landing, corporeal form
and landing.
I shrieked when a wave of cold air hit my ankle, right before something
heavier and not-so-airy hit it as well. I lost my balance and fell over
something warmer, pointier and livelier than the ground.
Another person.
“Up!” Marcus ordered and walked away.
The girl under me rolled on her shoulder with such a quick maneuver, I
fell directly on my wrist. Before I could apologize, she crawled away
backwards. Judging by the pain I felt, I had bruised something. Judging by
the girl’s reaction, she was afraid. Absolutely, unmistakably afraid. The
pure horror in her eyes replaced my fatigue and pain with burning irritation.
To hell with that apology!
“Yeah, run,” I hissed at her. “Run, because winter isn’t coming. Winter
already came, and next time I raise an undead, guess whose ass my White
Walker will be coming for!”
The girl jumped on her feet and stormed for the other end of the room,
joining the others. They proceeded to speak in whispers, with mirrored
horrified expressions. I pushed a hand through my hair and spun around,
but hard as I tried, I couldn’t focus for the rest of our exercise. As soon as I
removed one terrified person’s face from my mind, the image of a laughing
one settled, and vice versa.
Monika’s flashy purple head caught my attention at dinner, and I
immediately rushed over there.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, leaning over her shoulder.
“Tired,” she yawned, looking up. “Don’t jump on me like that.”
“Sorry. I only wanted to check up on you after… uh, last night’s buddy
shots, or whatever you said.”
“It’s cool, the nurse sobered me up.”
So, that’s how her brother had been looking fresh and chatty after a hard
night of drinking. Someone had invented a magical pill or spell, or
whatever, to cure supernatural hangovers. FML! Couldn’t my aunt have at
least told me about it during all those times I was deadbeat wasted in my
late teens?
“Why don’t you pull up a chair?” Monika asked, gesturing to her left
side. “You can squeeze in. This is Yaroslav. He’s visiting from the Zolotov
Academy in Russia with his sister Gabriella, who’s somewhere in the
Dining Hall. And on my right is Runa. And across from me is her cousin,
Silfa. Everyone, this is my roommate, Learyn Dustrikke.”
“A famed Dustrikke!” the Slavic guy exclaimed.
Everyone gawked at me in a curious, inquisitive way, like they were
searching for something. Something to make me stand out from the crowd,
because I was born with the famed Dustrikke name. Something, which I
obviously lacked.
I weighed the options and quickly made up my mind.
“Thanks, but I already saw an empty chair ahead, and I have to bury my
nose in some books, so I’ll let you eat in peace. It was nice meeting you
all.”
Apart from not wanting to be in the spotlight, I also didn’t really want to
join Monika.
Some small part of me was ready to accept the offer, but I knew she was
only being polite. She had her own social life to maintain. Just because the
Council had made me her roommate, it didn’t mean I had to glue myself to
her and act all needy. She obviously had a lot on her plate, because in the
rare times I saw her, she was either reading or sleeping. The last thing her
schedule needed was my miserable, vulgar and misanthropic ass.
Not to mention I had already gotten her into trouble with the Council,
and accidentally burned her when my fire element broke out.

* * *
On Tuesday during my Elemental session with Brühl, I did something
unlikely – I opened up about my insecurities.
“What happens if someone can’t pass those tests you mentioned? The
ones the Council does on its residents?”
He squinted at me in obvious disapproval.
“Are you giving up, Dustrikke?”
“No, I’m just asking you a simple question.”
He shrugged. “A few verdammte Kinder fail every January. You’re a
Class Five sorceress. You’re expected to pass.”
 “I told you I might not be here in January. What happens if someone
fails? Especially on the evocation test?”
“Nothing. The Council labels them as casters who haven’t mastered
specific aspects of evocation, and monitors them closely in case they stir
any trouble while residing on the island. Enough rambling. Go sit.”
We played the same game of light up-extinguish. After an hour or so, I
did extinguish the wick without moving the candle, but when it came to
working with the fire element, my fire magic was a no-show.
On the bright side, it seemed like I had finally gotten the hang of the air
element.
Which meant one thing – I was ready to face Aurora and send her ass
flying straight through a window. Shield or no shield, if the bitch tried to do
Avada Kedavra on me, I had something to fight back with.
Armed with self-confidence, I decided to take a walk in one of the
courtyards and enjoy the snow later that evening. Dressed in warm clothes,
buttoned up to my nose and wearing proper boots, I roamed around
leisurely, formed tiny snowballs, played with them by myself, and took a
breather from all the craziness.
Making an accidental Draug, thrashing rooms, unintentionally harming
the island’s residents, and being murdered simply came with the territory.
Good thing I had a sick sense of humor, otherwise I had no clue how I
would have survived in this hellhole.
* * *

My conversation with Brühl hadn’t been as private as I thought, because it

came back to bite me in the ass on Saturday afternoon, when someone
knocked on my bedroom’s door. Someone who was most definitely not
looking for Monika – her twin brother.
“Hi?” I asked in confusion.
He grinned with that boyish smile, which didn’t quite suit his gigantic
frame. “You got a minute?”
“I’m going over some spells.”
“Which ones?”
“Just one – Forfall.”
“Ah, the good old rotting curse.”
“Curse? Marcus Dahl just introduced it this morning! He said it’s the
opposite of the healing spell Helbrede! How can he show curses to
inexperienced necromancers while trying to pass them as…” I paused to
imitate his tone. “Acts of balance.”
“Yeah, that’s what he’s been instructed to say, so he’d make newcomers
feel more welcome, and they wouldn’t attack someone. Hence showing you
the healing spell prior to the rotting curse.”
“This place is fucked up,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
“Anyway, a little birdie told me you need some help with evocation.”
I took a step back and shot him a suspicious look.
“Does the little birdie have purple feathers?”
He chuckled. “It wasn’t Monika. My mom’s on the Council,
remember?”
I took another step back.
“Let me guess. Svensson wasn’t happy when I unintentionally caused
trouble – again, so she decided to rat me out to the Council and tell them
my summoning is a big fail?”
“Well, yeah, the Council wasn’t happy about that, but she wasn’t the
one who ratted you out. Your Elemental mentor told them you were asking
what would happen if you fail an evocation test.”
Was there a single person capable of keeping their mouth shut?
Maksim placed a hand on his chest and leaned down in a bowing
gesture. “I’m at your service.”
“What the fuck?”
“And here I thought you could go five minutes without swearing. May I
come in?”
“Oh, hell no, Maksim, please! I don’t want you to waste your time
tutoring me!”
“I’d be happy to, really. I’m free for a few hours, then I have a forty-
minute self-defense group session, and then I’m free again.”
“Thanks for the offer, but no.”
“Well, I can either spend those hours waiting at your doorstep until you
change your mind, or I can spend them being helpful.”
The guy was yet again showing me he was unbelievably persistent. He
was a martial artist, though, so being persistent was probably a mandatory
requirement. But his niceness seriously wore me down. And his sister’s
kindness. If I was going to learn how to let people in again, I’d have to start
with the Larsen twins.
I sighed and made way for him to get inside.
 “The threshold is enchanted, so only you and Monika can enter. You
either have to draw blood and perform an unlocking spell, which I’m sure
you haven’t practiced, or you have to say the words Come In, otherwise I
can’t.”
Riiight, blood magic! The one meant to replace keys and locks here, at
least according to Raisa at Administration.
“Okay, come in.”
Maksim crossed the threshold, and, to my pleasant surprise, took off his
shoes in our tiny corridor. He pulled the only chair in our room and sat on
it, glancing from Monika’s messy bed covers to my bed, which was taken
up by books. I quickly pushed them aside in an attempt to declutter.
“Is my sister rubbing off on you?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone. By the way, thanks for talking to
Axel. I don’t know what you’ve told him, but he finally stopped yapping at
my heels like a horny dog.”
“Axel can be a horny dog all the time, but once you get to know him,
he’s a funny guy. He became one of my first friends when we moved from
Karasjok to Stavanger. Karasjok is a nasty place, I’m tellin’ ya!”
Ugh! The mere thought of being near that piece of slimy shit called
Axel was agonizing, so I veered the conversation in a different direction.
“Monika mentioned her magic broke out in high school, and yours
broke out before hers. How does this play out for casters not raised as
humans? They just quit high school and go to one of those academies for
necromancers?”
“Kind of. There used to be a few schools through the centuries, but they
got destroyed. Ramfrid Sørensen’s Institute for Necromancers in Sweden
was the last one in Scandinavia. It closed three years ago. The Zolotov
Academy for Necromancers in Russia is our last specialized institution,
although there’s another place someone like us can go to. It’s an all-sorcery-
is-equal type of school in Florida, called Howard’s College for The Gifted.”
“That’s it? Aren’t there other magical schools?”
“Well, there are many in Midgard and other realms, but they refuse to
accept necromancers. You know, death magic is black magic, and that type
of crap. You’d think they’ll drop the prejudices and accept something as
rare as our kind. We’re like unicorns compared to other sorcerers.”
“Meaning?”
His eyes woefully narrowed in my direction.
 “We’re a dying breed, despite our long lifespans.”
“How, when we can live for two hundred years? I mean, mortal human
families raise two children on average, when they don’t even get a century
on this planet. Why don’t necromancers just make more babies?”
“We can reproduce for most of our lives, even after we become
centenarians, but not all of us survive that long. Many children are hybrids
with mixed genes. Sometimes their organisms can’t adapt to genetic
diversity, so they die prematurely. Think of it like the issues human children
have with organ failures. Sometimes they die as kids, other times it happens
after they’ve reached adulthood.”
Fate sure had a screwed up sense of humor if the ones capable of
reanimating someone were dying prematurely.
“Then there are Ailings, who can be born even in pureblood families.”
“What’s an Ailing?”
“A necromancer with recessive genes. They have very little magical
power and an average human lifespan. Aia, Linnea and Minora married
human men, so Ailings are bound to happen even in families like yours.”
I faked a smile when irritation spun through my system. Families like
yours. Family, my ass! My aunt still hadn’t called me, let alone followed me
here like she promised to. Then again, what else should I have expected
from someone who had lied to me for almost twenty-one years?
“Can we please change the subject? Have you visited any of these
supernatural schools?”
He burst into laughter. “I wish! They won’t let our kind near their
territory. I’ve only been to Howard’s College and Zolotov. I visited both,
when I thought about enrolling.”
“Both?” I asked, suddenly overtaken by the crazy idea of transferring to
such a school and getting a magical diploma. “What’s it like there?”
All traces of Maksim’s cheerfulness perished.
“The ones who run Howard’s College take pride in it being the largest
magical school in all of Midgard. I went there for a week in January when
their second semester was starting. Oh, man, it was a nightmare! Some
sorcerers kept the floods and hurricanes away from school grounds, but
these forces wreaked havoc everywhere else in Florida. According to the
Americans, meddling in nature’s forces would result in global climate
changes, so we weren’t allowed to do anything.”
“Bullshit!”
 “To top it off, necromancers were forbidden from bringing back those
people who died from a natural disaster.”
The trip down memory lane made him miserable. The sadness in his
eyes intertwined with something sullen which looked a lot like guilt.
“Max…” I started quietly, wishing for a Sentinel’s powers, so I could
ease his emotions and comfort him. He’d been so kind, always helpful and
sincere, despite my bitchiness. “I’m sure there was nothing you could have
done to save those lives or prevent other damages caused by floods and
hurricanes.”
He shook his head with a frown.
“I could have, we all could have, but they didn’t allow it. The
necromantic academy in Russia is the exact opposite. Slavic authorities not
only allow, but actually encourage us to save lives; and that’s why the
goddess Freya created us. I stayed in Russia for Zolotov’s entire second
semester. If I didn’t miss having my sister around so much, I probably
would have transferred for good.”
“Can’t Monika go there?”
“She can. Dann even proposed to write her a transfer letter, so she
wouldn’t have to deal with Slavic preliminary exams.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you Dann’s an excellent lecturer and he taught in two schools.
Remember?”
“Duh.” How could I forget the praise for His Excellency’s excellent
teaching? “What does that have to do with transfer letters?”
“He was a Zoology teacher in the Swedish Institute–”
“Whoa, wait! Zoology? With magical creatures? But he’s doing History
of the Nine Realms lectures.”
“Yeah, after the school closed, he started giving History of the Nine
Realms lectures here, since Zoology clashed with Geira Brekke’s big
Magiessence book club, and all that… Anyway, Monika attended the
Swedish Institute for a year, but because it closed down, she couldn’t use
her old credits from that institution to validate her magical potential with
the Slavs. They couldn’t take her without forcing her to go through
preliminary exams. By the time I went to the Zolotov Academy for a
semester, Dann had already scored a Zoology position with them. Being
part of Zolotov’s faculty, he offered to write Monika a transfer letter, so she
wouldn’t need to take exams or start with first-year students.”
 “Oh! Okay, I get it. So, Zolotov’s cool?”
He grimaced with a half-excuse of a smile.
“More than cool. Zolotov has always been the most prestigious school
for necromancers. It’s the exact opposite of Howard’s College. Dann even
convinced the Council to apply some Slavic principals here. For example,
those group exercises you have with guards? The healing spells cast on
branches used to be practiced on living flesh up until the summer.”
I gasped in horror.
“Yeah, the Council embraced quite a lot of changes. It’s been good for
novices like you, who’ve never been up close and personal with
necromancy prior to coming here.”
For the first time, I felt gratitude towards my aunt for keeping the truth
hidden from me. “Wow. Okay, the Russians are great and you can’t leave
your twin behind. But why hasn’t Monika transferred?”
He shrugged, and the sadness in his eyes intensified. The guy really
wore his heart on his sleeve. It bothered me that I had always been so
reserved to his amiable approach.
“Monika’s too big of a patriot to turn her back on her roots. She wants
to join one of the Scandinavian governments in a few years, so she’s
simultaneously juggling her necromantic powers and lectures in a mundane
university in Oslo. The last thing she needs is to transfer to a foreign
country. It took us an entire year of begging Mom to allow her to enroll in a
mundane university while she’s still having problems moving up from a
Class Two caster.”
I remained silent, fixing my eyes on the floor.
Maksim’s magic had not only broken out before Monika’s, but he was
more powerful than his sister. She had to live in his shadow.
In the meantime, the Council expected her to deal with me, which she
did without complaining about how difficult I was to put up with. She also
didn’t see me as a complete fuck-up. What was more, she was super
friendly all the time. And I hadn’t bothered to at least ask her about hobbies
or interests, or the reason why she was always exhausted, or about her plans
for the future…
I was hurt and angry because my friends in San Francisco had dumped
me, but here I was, being an awful friend to my own roommate.
“What do you want to do when you grow up?” I asked Maksim, trying
to atone for my guilt.
 He shrugged. “Sentinels with my fighting arsenal make some of the best
guardians in any realm, as well as supernatural law enforcement agents. I’ll
probably become a guardian. My parents think it’s the smartest choice.”
There it was again – guardian. The word Aurora had said to Monika
when I woke up in the infirmary. I had completely forgotten about it.
“What’s a guardian? Do you mean the island’s guards?”
“No. Guardian, as in… Hey, we’re here for your evocation! Have you
been putting it off on purpose?”
I pursed my lips and made a face.
“Busted. Part of me really wanted to put it off, though I do like hanging
out with you. Your head isn’t stuck up your ass.”
He grinned. “Thanks, but let’s work on your summoning. We’ll have
time for chats later.”
Maksim showed me a black and white picture of some young dude on
his phone. Judging by the colors and the image’s low quality, it wasn’t
taken in this century.
“Say hello to my cousin Diuri. Correction, you’ll say hello in a bit.
First, you need to draw a Spirit Trap. Do you know how to make it?”
I quickly drew the symbols on an empty sheet of paper on the back of
the nearest notebook.
“Perfect pentagram,” he noted with a smile.
A month ago, I would have been bothered by someone congratulating
me on my perfect Satanism-associated drawing. But now I beamed from the
praise, wishing Maksim could have been my Elemental instructor instead of
the Hans Gruber act-alike. Though, honestly, Brühl would have been an
excellent Gruber in Die Hard.
“Learyn?” I glanced up. Maksim handed me his smartphone. “Focus,
please? Put my phone inside the Spirit Trap and imagine cousin Diuri’s
face.”
“I’m looking at his face,” I muttered, doing as instructed. “What do I
need to imagine?”
“Think about it this way. You’re in an empty field or in an empty house,
or in whatever place where you’re all alone.”
I sucked in a deep breath, closed my eyes and thought of the snow-
covered courtyard. Serene, quiet, devoid of all human or necromantic
presence.
“Now imagine being surrounded by hundreds of ghosts.”
 I immediately opened my eyes.
“The fuck, Maksim?!”
His hands shot up. “Sorry. Imagine you’re alone in an empty place, but
there are many apparitions around you. They aren’t paying attention to you;
they’re just roaming around and minding their business like they can’t see
you.”
Swearing under my nose, I did as told. The courtyard in my mind filled
with numerous translucent apparitions, all looking like the one Patricia
Svensson had summoned.
“Do you see them?”
“Yeah. Now what?”
“Picture my cousin Diuri among them, then ask him to come to you
through your eitr essence. Think of your eitr as a… I don’t know, a winch?
Lasso? Fishing rod? It can be anything you want, as long as it helps you
draw him out from the crowd.”
I opened one eye and skeptically looked up at Maksim again.
“Just trust me, okay?”
I had a hard time trusting people in general, especially males, but I tried
to picture emerald eitr threads shooting from me and fishing out Maksim’s
cousin. As I expected, nothing happened.
“He’s feeling shy today,” I noted after a few moments. “Got any other
dead relatives for me?”
He grabbed the phone, unlocked it, fiddled with something for a while,
then put it back inside the pentagram. His cousin was staring at me from the
screensaver.
“Keep your eyes open this time. Concentrate on his face. Diuri walked
both me and Monika through evocation. He’s even chattier than she is, and
you know she’s a morning person. So, trust me, he will come.”
I kept trying to summon cousin Diuri, but he kept playing hard to get.
During yet another one of my attempts, Maksim’s phone buzzed, swapping
the photo with an alarm notification.
“Timeout.” He puffed, as if he had been the one trying to practice
magic. “My training session with the self-defense group starts soon.”
“Have fun, and thanks for wasting your time with me.”
“You’re not getting off that easily. Come on, get dressed. You can watch
during practice, and we’ll get back to evocation afterwards.”
“Uh-uh. No, thank you.”
 He stood up and pulled me off the bed. “It’ll be a good distraction for
you. I’ll wait outside while you get dressed.”
I groaned, putting on my boots and long jacket. He was right about the
distraction, but the childish part of me which still couldn’t open up to
people, let alone make friends, was bitching and moaning about it. On the
other hand, our stroll en route to the training grounds was totally worth it.
Fresh air and pristine winter landscapes were exactly what I needed.
As soon as we walked inside the training grounds, I saw a bunch of
guards standing near the door.
The entire group turned their heads to us. There was a younger man in
their circle. Dann. Oh, crap! Out of all types of training sessions, did I have
to impose on this one and distract Maksim when he had practice with a
Council member? When the Council had already put up with so much of
my shit?
“Hey, um, I really don’t wanna impose, so I’ll be heading back,” I
muttered quietly. “Thanks for everything.”
Maksim’s eyebrows shot up.
“You’re not imposing. No one’s even here.”
I came to a halt, shifting my eyes between him and the group of men,
who had returned to their conversation.
“Are you telling me you can’t see them?”
“Of course I can see them, but my training session isn’t with Dann. I
told you, I’m having practice with a self-defense group.”
Right. He had. I ran up, trying to match his wide stride, and followed
him to a corner, still feeling uneasy.
“So, what do you do exactly?”
He didn’t get a chance to reply because the door across us opened and,
to my uttermost disgust, I heard Axel’s nasty voice.
“First Liv and now her? No way, dude! Why are you always the one
getting the chicks?”
The sleazeball wasn’t talking to a group of guys who followed him
through the door, but directly to Maksim.
“Maybe it’s because I don’t act like a horny monkey whenever I see a
girl, and because I’m always on time, unlike you. By the way, I’m still with
Liv.”
Axel gawked at me, dramatically widening his eyes.
“Did I hear that right? You’re still on the market, Dustrikke?”
 I winced with a nauseous feeling rising in my guts.
“On the market? Do I look like a fucking camel to you?” Axel’s group
booed and laughed. My revulsion became unbearable. “I’m serious,
Maksim, put a leash on him and keep your promises, otherwise I’ll keep
mine!”
“Man, you’re killing me!” I heard Maksim groan at the sleazeball as I
stormed past his group and bolted for the door.
Evocation be damned!
I wasn’t going to sit there and subject my nerves to Axel’s repulsive
behavior for forty minutes! Even if it meant losing my chances of practicing
with Monika’s brother later and failing on my next exercise with Svensson -
again. The hell with that! I actually preferred failing next to spending
another second around Axel.
“Learyn!”
Turning back, I saw Dann running towards me through the snow.
I opened my mouth, but the world around me spun, erasing whatever
answer I meant to give him.

We were standing in this very same courtyard, only it wasn’t winter

anymore. I could tell there were no traces of snowflakes, even though
everything was too washed out, like it didn’t belong to this world.
Because all I could see was Dann.
And what I saw made the blood in my veins curdle with self-disdain. I
loathed myself for doing this to him.
His eyes were wide open and still, as though every single nerve ending
in his body was petrified. His forehead, usually smooth and calm, was now
creased with furrows of shock. His lips were slightly parted, curled down,
no breath escaping from them. His chest was completely tranquil, as if the
oxygen had left his lungs and their invigorating function had failed him.
If he wasn’t standing up, I would have thought he was dead, because
every inch in his body hung silent and lifeless.
The only description in my mind was a single word – broken.

In the blink of an eye the snow reappeared.

The fuck? Another hallucination? Seriously? After I had managed to
forget about the previous one? My irritation meter sprung up as Dann came
to stop a few footsteps away with a worried crease between his eyebrows.
 “Christof’s last report stated you were asking him what would happen if
you failed your evocation test in January.”
“Well, Christof Brühl needs to shut his fucking pie hole!” I snarled,
equally irritated by my new hallucination and my mentor’s blabbing mouth.
“And I might not be here in January!”
“Maybe so, but Max has always been a patient and prolific instructor.
He can help you with evocation if you need some tutoring.”
How had he made such conclusions? Was it obvious that someone
needed to babysit me? And why was it always Monika or her brother?
Because you don’t have any friends, a quiet voice inside my head noted
wisely, because you’re best at pushing people away instead of keeping
them. I wanted to shove that voice right up Axel’s ass.
“I can get it right on my own, sooner or later.”
He took a step closer and shook his head with a sigh.
“You’re constantly refusing help, as if it’s the worst thing in the world.”
Because I’m not worth someone’s help, the voice spoke again. I reached
for the Eitrhals hanging on my neck, pulled the chain, and dangled the
pendant out of my collar.
“I accepted this sort of help, didn’t I?”
Dann’s face stretched into a half-smile. “Yes, but only after you rebelled
against it.”
“I guess it should have been my second strike.”
“Come again?”
“After I yelled at Heimir Aagard during your lecture, you said you’ll
allow me a third strike for profanities, but that was my third strike.
Swearing in front of the Council should have been my second one.”
Something resembling a chuckle escaped him.
“All right. If it will make you feel any better… Please accept my sincere
apology for overlooking your marvelous feat of fluently using profane
language in front of the entire Council. You truly went down with a bang,
and you deserve bonus points for it.”
His sarcasm should have been irritating, but I couldn’t hide my smile.
That last part sounded exactly like something I would say.
“Thanks. You said apology, but it was a touching compliment.”
Another chuckling sound followed. A few weeks ago my irritant
receptors would have gone insane, but now I grasped the truth. Dann wasn’t
lying when he said he wasn’t ridiculing me. He really found my cynical
humor refreshing and funny.
“How are you settling in your new home?”
The change of subject caught me off guard. I bit my lip, thinking about
my real home, which was nothing more than a house built upon lies. An
entire lifetime’s worth of them.
“Just because it’s your home, it doesn’t make it mine.”
His glance drifted away, scanning the courtyard.
“Home is Lofoten, not Nordstrøm Island.”
“What’s Lofoten?” I asked in confusion. “I thought the Nordstrøms
lived here.”
“Only a handful of us do. Lofoten is an archipelago of Norwegian
islands nestled in the Arctic Circle.”
“Whoa! Seriously?”
His eyes landed back on mine, almost glazed and dreamy.
“Hard to imagine someone calling the Arctic Circle their home, isn’t it?
Due to the Gulf Stream, we get four seasons and notably mild winters,
albeit being near the North Pole. Unkindly enough, most people see Lofoten
as nothing more than a bleak group of dramatic rocks. Depressing scenery,
freezing temperatures, too few sand strips and too many rainstorms. I assure
you, it’s quite the opposite.”
“Yeah, the same narrow-minded people think San Francisco is a windy
hellhole, abundant on constant haze and lacking on flat roads.”
“Which brings us exactly to my point. Simply because you can’t
imagine calling Nordstrøm Island a home at first, it doesn’t mean it can’t
become one.”
Right. Creepy shit happened here all the time. I’d have to be insane to
perceive this ominous place as my home.
“You should follow your own advice before giving it to others.”
“Impossible. The Lofoten Archipelago is unparalleled, whether
compared to this picturesque island or some other place.”
His smile was now stretched from ear to ear. For the very first time, I
noticed he had dimples carved in both cheeks. Strangely enough, he looked
more like the twenty-six-year-old chatty guy Maksim had introduced him
as, than the intimidating authority figure I was easily willing to provoke.
“Nice sales pitch. Bonus points for the dreamy heart eyes.”
 His hands dug in the coat’s pockets, making his tall, slender frame
appear slightly broader and lurched forward.
“You find me dreamy?”
“What? No, not like that…” I winced at the familiar repulsion in my
system. Apparently a change of scenery couldn’t fix my post-ex-boyfriend
issues with guys. “I meant dreamy, as in… Ugh… What’s the word?”
“Ruminant? Abstracted? Rapt?”
I sighed with relief. “Exactly.”
“Lost in daydreams? Miles away?”
“All of the above.”
“Fallen into a reverie? Absorbed by fanciful musing?”
I couldn’t bite back a chuckle, no longer worried about the fiasco of
misinterpretation and what it could have led to.
“Did you eat a fucking dictionary for lunch or something?”
His grin widened. “Three hundred pages of it. Delicious.”
“FML!” I exclaimed through a burst of laughter. “Seriously, please
stop!”
“If my jokes are so horrible, why are you laughing?”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “No idea. Maybe because your sense of
humor is like one of those things that are so bad, they’re good?”
“And yours is sardonic enough for the both of us. Still, I got your mind
off the awkwardness, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but there wouldn’t have been any awkwardness if you hadn’t
made weird associations to begin with.”
He nodded without dropping the grin. I shifted my weight from one foot
to the other, pondering over my hallucination from earlier. His amused
smile was the exact opposite of the broken, lifeless expression I’d seen in
my vision. It had felt so real – his pain, my guilt, all of it.
“Dann, have we met before November?”
His eyebrows shot up.
“I would have remembered meeting your relentlessly opinionated and
unforgivingly cynical attitude, while you would have remembered my
horrible sense of humor. May I ask why you think we could have met
before November?”
I shrugged, avoiding the intrusiveness of his curious stare.
“Don’t tell me you suddenly like talking to me so much, it feels as if
you’ve known me your whole life. It would mean I’ve been drawing
wrongful conclusions about your mordant side all this time.”
“Ha-ha. I was actually going to ask about past lives. Is there something
like reincarnation for necromancers?”
“No, there isn’t.” He seemed serious. Sincere. Apparently, it had indeed
been just another unexplainable hallucination. “Our goddess Freya of the
Vanir has already gifted us with an enviably long lifespan. Most
supernatural creatures have less than a century on Midgard, whereas
humans perish prematurely. It would be quite unfair and egoistical of us if
we could reincarnate, don’t you think?”
“Well, I used to think magic didn’t exist either, only to discover I’m
supposedly a Class Five necromancer.”
“You are a Class Five necromancer.”
The damn Eitrhals tripled in weight. My eyes traveled to the snow-
covered ground. Why did everyone think I could live up to a great family
name, when all I did was screw up?
Dann moved closer, prompting me to lift my head. I expected to see a
pitiful frown, but instead found a soft smile.
“No one said you can master your powers overnight. Sometimes the
simplest of spells will take longer, even though forms of advanced casting
may come easier. And then there will be times when you won’t be able to
recreate magic you’ve already succeeded at before. Nevertheless, neither of
these factors undermines your magical abilities. Take it from another Class
Five caster.”
I fiddled with my Eitrhals’ chain in an attempt to alleviate some of its
pendant’s weight.
“How long did it take for you to master your powers?”
With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, forcing it to ruffle in every
direction. “I apologize for the improper use of words. Mastering your
powers is practically impossible, because we keep learning new spells and
new ways to use our magic throughout our entire life. Thus, the answer to
your question would be… I’m still learning.”
“But you’ve mastered evocation?”
“Technically. However, I’ve never tried creating Draugar, therefore it’s
possible for me to fail at it. More than once. The same goes for all aspects
of necromancy. Do you understand now?”
“Mm-hmm. Is that why you came after me? To talk about evocation?
Scold me over the new troubles I caused?”
 He grimaced, almost baring his upper jaw. “Patricia shouldn’t have put
you in the middle of such an intrinsic issue, least of all burden you with the
task of taking a side. Frankly, I regret not being there.”
“Why? Did she use your auditorium for manipulative purposes behind
your back?”
“No, the lecture hall is free for every guard and staff member to use
however they wish. I’m simply sorry I wasn’t there to see you rub it in
everyone’s faces.”
My mouth fell open. “The fuck?”
He laughed, shrugging off my brutal bewilderment.
“You’re twenty, correct?”
I nodded, biting back another swear.
“A twenty-year-old girl, who just learned of the supernatural world’s
existence, was put in the middle of a centuries-old quarrel between wise and
experienced casters. And she handled them fairly, relentlessly, and with a
bold attitude no one else would have shown, had they been in her place. I
believe congratulations are in order, not a scolding.”
I took a step back, unable to contain the loud gasp that escaped me. Was
he implying I had actually done something… properly?
“Silence? You’re usually straightforward in speaking your mind.”
“Yeah… I know, it’s just… Umm…”
“Not what you expected from the snobbish dick?”
Guilt vexed through my system. Once again, I had been too quick to
form wrongful opinions, based on my past.
“Sorry about that. You’re not a snobbish dick.”
“Thank you. But you are correct, I wanted to talk to you about
evocation. Many necromancers find it problematic at first, especially if
they’ve been raised like humans. It might be hard for you to admit it, but
everyone needs a little bit of tutoring or assistance with something, and you
don’t have to keep–”
He couldn’t finish because a gigantic snowball flew from the side and
hit him right in the jaw.
Seeing him get struck in the middle of his sentence, with the collision
sending slushes of snow all over his face, hair and collar, made me burst
into uncontrollable laughter.
All of a sudden, I forgot about Axel, evocation, Maksim’s cousin Diuri,
the voice in my head and basically every tiny shred of irritation which had
been coursing through my system this afternoon. Then I forgot about the
shit that had happened since the beginning of November. I even forgot the
past with all of its disappointments.
Every nasty thing, hanging over me like a faithful shadow for almost a
year, just vanished.
I simply laughed, for the first time in so long, that I couldn’t recall the
last time I’d heard myself burst into sincere, absolutely uncontrollable, jaw-
breaking laughter. I hadn’t felt like this in what seemed like an eon. Not
only amused, but free and careless.
Dann stood motionless for a few moments, looking in the direction the
snowball had come from, and his resting bitchface only kept me laughing.
His expression slowly eased before he shoveled the snow out of his collar. I
bit my lips and pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to cease my laughter,
but I couldn’t.
It was only after I followed his eyes that I stopped laughing – and
stopped breathing altogether.
Aurora was standing there, one hand on her waist, the other one holding
a snowball on stomach level. The snow contrasted heavily against her black
clothes, but she wasn’t trying to hide the ball in her hand. I saw a red-haired
girl next to her and a boy on her other side – the one Monika had introduced
as Yaroslav in the Dining Hall earlier this week.
“Feeling chatty, I see.” Aurora leered with a sinister smile, throwing the
ball an inch up and catching it back in her palm. “Why don’t you and the
Swallow join us?”
Swallow? I wanted to kick her for that nickname! Or at least shove a
hefty amount of snow down her back.
“Actually…” Dann drawled out while bending down and grabbing a
handful of snow. “Learyn was just telling me she needs to go to the library.
But I, however, am more than willing to make you apologize for that
snowball.”
“Bring it!” Aurora gestured to her brother with her free hand.
I hurried to cross the courtyard, peeking over my shoulder at each step
to make sure the bitch wasn’t going to “accidentally” hit me. She seemed
genuinely engaged in her game with Dann and the other two.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew Aurora had suggested for me to join them only
so she could find some other way to hurt me. But the way Dann had lied to
her, so casually and creepily fast, made me wonder if the Council knew
Aurora had killed me just for the kicks of doing so. Otherwise why would
the nicest, most forgiving and talkative lecturer want to get rid of me and
accept to get into a snowball fight with the others?
The Council knew the truth. And if I went missing, someone would
notice and would come looking for me before I rotted away. But most of all,
it also meant if I fought back and harmed their precious blonde bimbo, they
would know she had deserved it.
Things were starting to look up. Now all I had to do was focus on my
magic.
 

The Nøkken’s Song

Apparently, there was no such thing as Thanksgiving in Norway.
But I was raised in the US with American customs and traditions, and
while I had immediately embraced the name Learyn Dustrikke, I couldn’t
eradicate the Leah Dust rooted deep within my mind.
So, I called my aunt on Thursday morning, the final Thursday of
November. All I got was her voicemail. She wasn’t in the habit of sleeping
in late, and I had no explanation as to why her phone was turned off.
The same thing happened after my session with Brühl. Then I called her
again in the evening after my book club meeting. Still no answer.
Based on me being horrible to her the last time we’d spoken, things
between us were left unresolved. She was in her full right to be angry with
me. However, I didn’t expect her to be angry enough to purposely switch
off her phone. For a while, I pondered over going to Administration and
requesting a guard to Aperture me to San Francisco, so I could talk to her in
person.
It was a bad idea, since she obviously wanted space and distance. When
my uncle Thomas died, she kinda shut into herself. I figured she must have
been going through a similar phase these past weeks. After all, something
had indeed died – our old life.
I went about the rest of my afternoon without trying her number again.
And I didn’t see Monika all day long, until she woke me in the middle
of the night, jumping on my bed.
“Get up, get up, get uuup!” she sang, rocking on all fours over me.
I groaned and tried to push her away, but her excitement was
unyielding.
 “Get uuup!”
“Nooo,” I whined, burying my head under the pillow.
“Liv and Max are throwing a party!”
I produced an inarticulate grunt.
“Up! Now! Come ooon!”
Turning over with another grunt, I rose to a sitting position. She finally
stopped jumping. “Why are you waking me up? Who the fuck is Liv?”
I had heard the name somewhere, but I was in no condition to start
digging in my brain.
“My brother’s on-again, off-again girlfriend; they’re back together, and
they’re throwing a party tonight! I just got home, but everyone is there.
Come on, we need to go now!”
“Whaaa–” I yawned. “What time is it?”
“One in the morning. Come ooon, you have to meet her! Her parties are
to-die-for!”
“Tomorrow,” I muttered and pulled the covers over my head. Monika
uncovered me, grabbed the blankets, threw them on her bed, and yanked me
up on my feet. “Ugh, fine, I’ll get dressed and meet her, but then I’m going
straight to bed!”
Magic was already too much. I couldn’t handle wild parties at this
point. Yawning and putting on the first pair of jeans I saw, I immediately
lost all sleepiness when our door burst into bright emerald flames.
I turned towards the unexpected blaze of light, just in time to see Aurora
strutting in with another girl. The red-haired one I had seen on the weekend
with Aurora and that guy from Russia – Yaroslav.
“Didn’t they teach you how to knock in middle school?”
My nagging at the two intruders came out in growls while I tried to hide
my half-naked body with my hands. I didn’t have time to put on a top, only
that pair of jeans, and now I wished for a Victoria’s Secret bra instead of the
plain black one I was wearing.
“Oh, please!” Aurora’s minion laughed, trusting forward her double Ds
as she placed her hands on her lower waist. “It’s not like you’re hiding
something worth seeing.”
“The boob comment, Gabriella? Really?” Much to my surprise, Aurora
almost scolded her friend. “You know she’s a Dustrikke. You have to shoot
special insults at her.”
 “Whatever, it’s not like it wasn’t true,” Gabriella scoffed, tossing her
flaming red locks to the side. Oh, how I wished that hair dye would seep
into her brain and make it rot!
“Monika, it’s late November,” Aurora declared, taking a step forward.
Had Gabriella’s hair dye turned Aurora’s brain into mush?
“Thanks for stating the obvious, blondie,” I replied on Monika’s behalf.
“If you’re done cosplaying the calendar we all have on our phones, would
you be so kind as to leave our room?”
“Every room in the castle is my room, you tiny munchkin, and I wasn’t
talking to you! Monika, it’s late November. You know I can’t ask Max or
Ragnar, so that leaves you.”
I scanned Monika’s face. She didn’t look as puzzled or irritated as I felt,
so Aurora’s words definitely meant something to her. A few seconds later,
my roommate finally opened her mouth, and what came out of it only
confused me further.
“We were just heading to a party; the Nøkk can wait till tomorrow.”
“Unless you can convince your brother to swap places with you, I’m all
out of options. You know the Council doesn’t feel happy when a Larsen
denies aid to a Nordstrøm in need.”
“You know plenty of other Larsens!”
Aurora glanced around the room. “The only Larsen I see is you.”
“What the fuck is going on?” I nearly shouted, frantically looking from
Aurora to Monika and back to Aurora again.
Blondie didn’t budge an inch. Monika sighed and shook her head.
“Okay, we’ll do it tonight, but only if Learyn comes with us. She’s never
seen a Nøkken before.”
Aurora made a disgusted face.
“Not going to happen!”
“Either she goes, or I stay,” Monika pressed, ceremoniously sitting on
her bed. “Take your pick, Aurora, I have aaall night long.”
Aurora just kept staring at my roommate, so I took my chance.
“What are these Nøkken things?”
Gabriella burst into mocking laughter, as if I had asked the stupidest
question in the history of mankind.
“These Nøkk things,” Monika corrected me. “Nøkk is the plural form of
Nøkken.”
I was so not in the mood for a grammar lesson right now.
 “Fine, what are these Nøkk things?”
“They are water spirits with beauty beyond comparison to anything in
this realm. Although many have written poems and songs about them, you
have to see them with your own eyes to understand. They were the
inspiration behind Hans Christian Andersen’s Danish tale of The Little
Mermaid. The Norwegian Sea is full of them. A small part of their
population goes near Forsand every year in late November; and well, it’s
late November now. Please, you have to come!”
Why did it seem like Aurora was trying to force Monika into going with
her to see these Nøkk, if they were awesome enough to inspire the popular
Danish fairytale?
“Where’s the catch?” I decided to ask straightforwardly.
“For the love of Freya!” Aurora exclaimed. “If I have to wait all night
long for you to explain two and two to this Martian, I’m better off listening
to Ragnar’s complaints, Monika!”
In that moment my hate for the bitch settled even deeper. Had I chipped
her manicure or something? She treated me like I was on her radar from the
very beginning, and I didn’t even know why! All I knew was, my growing
rage towards her made me want to start acting violent all over again.
“Long story short, these creatures aren’t too fond of necromancers, so
only a few of us can see them. We, the Larsens, are among these few. You
have to come, trust me!”
Monika insisted I needed to see some invisible water spirits because
they were super pretty? I was about to decline because I didn't want to
spend my time with Aurora. Besides, my aunt had told me not to leave the
island under any circumstances.
But then Monika opened her mouth again.
“Did I mention there’s a fjord? And the northern lights are visible
tonight.”
“Screw precautions, I’m totally in!”
The mention of a fjord immediately convinced me, in combination with
the famed northern lights. I hadn’t seen them even once since I came to the
land of fjords and northern lights!
“If you fuck this up for me, I’ll transport you to Jotunheim!” Aurora
bared her teeth at me. “Your five-foot-nothing ass will feel right at home
with those Jötnar giants.”
 Grinding my teeth, I growled like a caged animal. Right then and there I
wished I could swap every single magical fiber in my body for the sole skill
of making looks kill. I loathed her!
I loathed her for her elegance and height, for the way the light caught
her shiny sunkissed hair, and for the fact she looked like no man would ever
cheat on her. Then I loathed her some more for the ability to make me feel
so tiny and incompetent, hitting on my insecurities so hard, I couldn’t even
think of a witty remark. And most of all, I loathed her for making me lose
my shit like crazy!
I grabbed that top, put it on, and got fully dressed. For the past two days
the temperature had been nice. Most of the snow had melted down to a few
tiny piles scattered here and there in the courtyards, but I had no idea what
the weather would be like on the fjord.
Monika dressed up, curled her arm around my elbow and squeezed me
in a strong grip. Aurora and Gabriella joined hands and walked over to us.
Aurora caught Monika’s free hand, and the telltale cold whiff of Aperture
spun around us.
Lightweight and dizzy sensations overtook my body. Monika eased her
hold on me, but didn’t let go of my elbow, and I opened my eyes.
Then I started blinking vigorously. Not because I was trying to clear my
vision. My eyes were in perfect condition. The reason was the sight in front
of us. It seemed so unreal, that it had to be an optical illusion.
We were standing in a deep valley, surrounded by mountainous cliffs
from three sides. Narrow, uneven and partially covered by snow, their
summits reached up, adorned by pale snowcaps. The pointy pinnacles and
curves gleamed, almost as though they were trying to reflect the scene
above them, but the glistening snow couldn’t capture the beautiful skies
above us.
The night was clear, the air was crisp. I didn’t dare to breathe in out of
fear of ruining the heavenly dance of greens, teals and hints of purples,
scattered all over the sky. They moved slowly, intertwining here and there,
curling from one side to the other, revealing hundreds of twinkling stars.
And the stars weren’t fighting for the chance to outshine the Aurora
Borealis, but were simply adding to its glory.
My gaze swayed sideways, then slowly down, over to the rocky edge
that stood a few feet away, protruding above the waters. The Norwegian Sea
stretched for miles ahead. In the vast nocturnal horizon the sky dancers
caressed the ocean as it bathed in the brightness of their colorful lights.
“Sweet mother of Chris Hemsworth!” I exclaimed loudly.
I had only heard about the northern lights, but I had never been to a
country where they appeared. I used to think the ones pictured on the web
were heavenly, but after seeing them in person with my own eyes, I was
deadly positive the northern lights were otherworldly.
They adorned the skies, but couldn’t quite light up my surroundings on
ground level. Even though the night was bright, I wished I could have seen
the fjord during the day.
“Shush!” Aurora hissed. “They’ll hear you!”
I hadn’t seen them up until now, probably because I was too stunned by
the greater picture, but I finally spotted the reason why we came here.
To my right, the fjord curved in a jagged cliff. What hid behind it, took
my breath away once again.
I couldn’t count them. Their looks alone overpowered my common
sense and erased all grammar, lexis and knowledge of math.
Fully naked, they bathed in the freezing waters near the edge. Not a
single piece of cloth covered their graceful upper bodies. I was absolutely
heterosexual, but right then and there I couldn’t stop gazing at the naked
female figures. They were the most refined, exquisite and sumptuous
creations on this planet.
Every inch of pale skin gleamed under the Aurora Borealis. After a few
breathless seconds, I realized their naked skin didn’t have a silvery glow,
like I had initially thought. It was actually iridescent. The lights refracted on
it, recreating a luminous luster, which changed colors and hues with each
movement these goddesses made.
Some of them played in the water, others leisurely rested their elbows
on the rocky shores, and some even brushed their elegant fingers through
their sleek, waist-long black hairs.
And then there were the ones who sang.
As if their beauty wasn’t mesmerizing on its own, their sweet, resonant
voices swept away what was left of my clear thoughts, and I felt
spellbound. If there was indeed such a thing as an angel choir, it had to be
the unison of their dreamy voices. They sang about the boundless azure, the
vast world beneath the water’s ripples, the wonders of their home.
 I couldn’t take my eyes off them for what seemed like an entire eternity,
up until a loud splashing sound tore me out of my trance.
More were joining, swimming towards the cliff, diving underwater, then
emerging above like dolphins. Only, they weren’t dolphins. They had the
same bewitching looks as the others, with the addition of something else
which splashed across the water – a long, slender tail that glittered like a
pearl.
“Mermaids!” I whispered, totally awestruck and completely indifferent
to the fjord and the northern lights.
“They’re not mermaids, you foolish American girl!”
Even Aurora’s hissed reprimand couldn’t overshadow my excitement. I
broke free from Monika’s hand, and rushed over to the serrated edge for a
closer look at the stunning creatures.
“They are the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen!”
“You can still see them? From there?”
Monika’s voice made me turn my back on the water.
“Of course. They’re just over that cliff. Can we get closer?”
“Liar!” Gabriella ran to the edge, pausing a few feet away from me. “I
don’t see anything, so how can you see them? Honestly, I am so done with
everyone thinking you’re special! Learyn-this, Learyn-that! All I hear about
is Learyn Dustrikke! Just because your name–”
“GET BACK!”
Just as Monika’s scream echoed over the rocky terrain, my jeans clung
to my skin, as if they were soaking wet.
Looking down, expecting to see waves crashing into the edge, I saw a
pale hand with exquisitely long fingers clutching my ankle. Tiny water
droplets made the skin gleam with various blues, teals and purples against
the dark grey rocks. My jaw dropped. The Nøkken, whose hand was
holding my leg, was like a mirage. Such beauty didn’t exist in our world. It
just couldn’t.
“Marked by Amyria.”
Her voice made me think of a slice of warm butter melting under maple
syrup.
I heard Monika call out my name, but it was a muffled sort of sound,
like it wasn’t real. Everything simply faded next to this creature.
“Marked by Amyria.” She beckoned with her other hand to the waves,
now reflecting her shining skin. Even her reflection alone was enchanting.
“Come find the beauty of the blue.”
“Okay,” I agreed, smiling at the beautiful Nøkken.
I had no clue what Marked by Amyria meant or why she said it to me,
but I wanted to see the fascinating underwater world from the song. Sleep,
magic, Liv’s party and everything else had fled my mind.
She had gill-like grooves on both sides of her swan neck. They were
curly, like the ends of an antique drapery, and fluttered in the cold
November air, as if the Nøkken was breathing underwater instead of above
the surface. I bent forward, reaching for her, wondering if those gills
disappeared in her natural habitat. Fairytale creatures existed. But what if
fairytales had it wrong? What if these beautiful creatures actually used their
gills for breathing in our world instead of in theirs?
Something pliable, yet strong, circled my waist and yanked me back.
At the same time, the gentle hand around my ankle strengthened its
grip. I fell on the rocks, stuck between two pulling forces. Monika was
trying to drag me away from the edge, while the Nøkken was trying to drag
me over it.
Only problem was, it wasn’t a Nøkken anymore.
A gruesome thing had taken its place, erasing all traces of the
captivating beauty floating there a second ago.
Her elegant skin had turned into ferric steel, which hung onto me like a
fist made of iron. The silvery nails, once so fragile, now appeared sharp and
coarsely jagged, as if they had broken after violently trying to dig into the
solid rocks under me. The long fingers were now membranous, and
extended to a scaly arm attached to the body of a dreadful creature.
A pair of pitch-black hollows stared at me, mirroring the greatest depths
of the oceans. Blood-red stains surrounded her eyes, contrasting against the
ferric flesh. What I initially thought were gills, now appeared as sharpened
blades protruding from the horrifying creature’s neck.
“Marked by Amyria.”
Her voice no longer sounded sweet and charming. It was simply a
gurgling sound, escaping through a set of jaws filled with thin, excrescent
pinnacles.
The creature’s hand tightened its grip, and a stinging sensation painfully
pierced my ankle. It burned like nothing I had experienced before, making
me feverish, even though the temperature around us was close to freezing.
 Gasping for a breath of cold, fresh air, I let myself get dragged away
from the edge.
Monika shouted words over my head. I couldn’t make out any of them.
All I could do was stare ahead, where something even more terrifying than
that creature played out before my eyes.
Gabriella, who had also run off to the edge earlier, was disappearing in a
haze of splattering water, monstrous faces and flashes of crimson drops,
flying in every direction. Slowly, I understood why she was waving her
hands among the creatures, convulsively twisting the visible upper part of
her body, and screaming at the top of her lungs. She was being mauled, torn
and ripped to pieces by needle-like teeth and claws.
Her high-pitched, agonized screams intertwined with low, gurgling
sounds, produced by the Nøkk.
I was never one to feint from the sight of blood, but as I watched hers
dripping from the holes, ruptures and wounds the Nøkk opened in her, my
heart rate slowed down.
The world went into slow motion.
“She’s dying,” my own voice sounded distant and surreal.
I had never seen a person die before.
When I had witnessed that swallow drawing its final breaths, I hadn’t
even understood it was dead. And when I had seen the guards I murdered,
they had already died before my eyes landed on them. Now, I was watching
Gabriella die a horrible, monstrously graphic death in slo-mo, and seeing a
person’s demise for the first time in my life made me realize something.
Death was inevitable.
It was always part of us, like a perverted sort of a guardian angel,
constantly following our shadow, waiting for the perfect moment to show
itself and take us away. All of us, not just me and my magical ancestors. It
was meant for all, regardless of how many decades or centuries we had. It
didn’t matter if we would die of old age and natural causes, or if we would
die prematurely, torn apart by savagery. It didn’t matter if it happened in our
bedrooms, at a hospital, or among friends and foes.
Death didn’t ask where we were, how old we had gotten, how long the
gods had meant for us to live. Death didn’t care if we were ordinary humans
or centenarian necromancers. And there was nothing unusual about it, even
when it was violently inflicted by supernatural forces.
Because death just happened. Simple as that.
 “She can still be saved!” Aurora’s yell flew past my ears with a wave of
determination, a whiff of strange optimism. “Monika, I want you to calm
them down, then we can get to her.”
“I can’t!” Monika squealed, still dragging my body. The hopelessness in
those words heavily clashed with Aurora’s voice. “They’re too many!
Learyn is the one who can control the ocean.”
Something in my being came to life, snapping me out of my lethargic
cadence. “Me?”
“Yes!” Aurora appeared in my peripheral vision and grabbed me by the
elbow. “Do it now! Pull the waters away from the shore, so I can see her,
and we can save her!”
“I… don’t know how to do that kind of magic.”
“You’re an Elemental, for fuck’s sake! Do it now!”
“Aurora, she still hasn’t learned how!” Monika cried out. “We’ll never
succeed, the ley lines–”
“Gabriella’s dying!”
“Aurora, please, it’s against protocol!”
“She’s already dead,” I whispered, still not lifting my eyes from the
edge, where the winds carried a deafening turmoil of scratches and gurgles
over the crashing waves’ rumble. The shore was wet, the grey rocks soaked
with blood and water, and Gabriella had fully disappeared, leaving only a
sea of merciless Nøkk in sight. “She’s dead.”
Aurora was quick to scold me. “We’re necromancers, you moronic
Dustrikke!”
“No, Aurora, no… there are intersecting ley lines. I need to follow
protocol. She’s already… We need to go, NOW!” Desperation was
something that didn’t quite suit Monika. I had seen her become anxious,
break down and get all fidgety, but I never expected to see her like this.
“No… no, even the guards won’t be able to fix it, please–”
“Oh, for the love of the Vanir! Move your incompetent ass, Monika!”
Aurora was yet again sweet as always.
“We’re all going to die, aren’t we?” I asked, trying hard to bite back the
panic I felt now after hearing and seeing despair in my roommate. We were
two-and-a-half necromancers against a horde of vicious Nøkk.
“No one’s dying, bitch, now step aside! I know a spell to hold them at
bay, but I need to be able to see them. Monika, take my arm, and keep out
of my way!”
 She obeyed, clasping fingers around Aurora’s arm. Monika’s chest rose
and fell so swiftly, it looked almost as if she was about to start
hyperventilating any second.
Aurora raised her hands, extending them towards the sea. She shifted
her weight between both legs, drew in one deep breath, then started
chanting something. Judging by the few words I heard over the rumbling of
crashing waves and the guttural gurgling of those crazy Nøkk, it was Old
Norse.
Whatever she was doing, it didn’t seem to bother the creatures. More of
them approached the shore. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought
they were cutting off our way to the water, guarding the oceans.
Unfortunately, I knew better. Their actions weren’t defensive – they actually
wanted to drag us into the depths.
As I stood close to Aurora, not daring to take my eyes off the monsters,
my freaky nightmare took a turn for the worse.
One by one, the Nøkk made their way onto the shore, dragging their
claws over the rocks, adding graveling noises to the cacophony. Their tails,
once pearly and mesmerizing, disappeared to make way for sets of steel-
colored legs, allowing them to step on solid ground.
I was stuck in a horror movie, and it wasn’t the fun Tim Burton kind of
horror.
My heart skipped a beat, then two, and three. Despite the burning
sensation in my lower leg, my body felt frozen and petrified.
Monika shrieked. I slowly turned, only to see her stumbling, falling on
the ground and crawling backwards. Her back hit a larger rock, which
prompted her to produce another high-pitched scream.
“Get back here!” Aurora yelled a few steps away from me. “I can’t see
them!”
Her entire body was overtaken by convulsions, trembling at an uneven
pace. The spasms alone were scary, but what was even more horrifying, was
the bare skin on her hands, neck and face.
A dozen wounds opened and closed on their own, all over her flesh, one
second at a time. Crimsons and rich burgundy reds appeared on the edges of
each opening to reveal something more disturbing than the Nøkk. Her pink
flesh, that should have showed underneath each wound, wasn’t flesh at all.
Every cut, slit and ripped piece of skin streamed gleams of bright emerald
light, flashing for a mere second before the wound closed over the light.
 “Monika,” I whispered with unease, scanning Aurora’s unnatural skin.
“Something’s wrong.”
But Monika didn’t reply. One glance at her helped me understand why.
The Nøkk weren’t coming only from the water. A brand-new horde had
emerged and surrounded us from each side, trying to break through an
invisible wall. It kept pushing back every creature that came close to it. One
by one, they took turns, scratching at the incorporeal shield, pawing at it,
swinging their claws again and again. Monika shook her head like a crazy
person, changing the directions of her wide-eyed stare rapidly. Everything
about her screamed a haze of purple shock.
“Monika, come back!” Aurora shouted again.
She wasn’t kidding earlier. Now I saw how the spell could work only if
she was able to see them. With every new attempt to break through the
shield, the force pulling the Nøkk away from it slowly lost its power, until it
finally stopped working. Hell-bent on reaching us, the creatures formed a
tight circle, clawing over the invisible dome, no longer obstructed by the
spell that was supposed to drag them away.
I ran off to Aurora with a plan in mind.
A muffled scream died in my throat, and my plan vanished. Her wounds
were no longer closing. Her entire face was covered by blazing emeralds. It
was as if someone had slashed her open so many times, so chaotically and
so deeply, the blade had pierced her core and her emerald magic was
streaming from it.
Her magic! Her eitr core!
“Aurora, I think… You’re… Are you turning into a Livløs?”
“Don’t be absurd!” she retorted, breathing unevenly. “I can control the
spell; I just need to be able to see the Nøkk!”
One of her arms dived down and blindly groped through the air, as
though she was trying to grab me. I slowly realized she still hadn’t taken
her eyes off the sea, despite the fact that in her eyes, there was nothing but
an empty shore ahead.
Dodging her hand, I hurried over to Monika and kneeled down. I
grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to steady her. Irresponsive, she kept
throwing her head in every direction.
The burning in my ankle had spread to my knee. I hadn’t noticed when
my veins had stopped pumping blazing agony up my body, because my pain
and fear had blended into an overwhelming haze. A moment later, it
enveloped my entire limb, instead of just hurting in the places where Ariel’s
bloodthirsty twin had scratched me.
Tremulous and sweaty, every fiber of my being burned to a point of
incandescence.
“Monika, look at me!” I shouted, but she wasn’t listening. “Can you kill
one of them? I can maybe turn it into a Draug, and then–”
“Don’t you dare kill a Nøkken!” Aurora cut me off.
“Monika, I’m begging you, snap out of it!”
“They are peaceful creatures! I forbid you from killing them!”
Peaceful? Was she fucking kidding?
Irritation spun through me so brutally, it numbed down my pain. I
quickly got back up and limped over to Aurora. Her strained blue-eyed
grimace was fixed somewhere above my head. The moment I grabbed her
wrists, her convulsions took over my body as well, threatening to throw me
off balance.
“Aurora, look! Do you see them now? Do they look fucking peaceful to
you? Your spell isn’t doing jack shit anymore! You might be turning into a
Livløs! Monika is in shock! Get us out of here!”
Instead of falling into a shock similar to my roommate, Aurora clenched
her jaw. She threw glowers with such ravaging determination, it almost
made me step away from her. The pale blue of her eyes was now replaced
by vivid green, burning as vigorously as the emerald carved in her skin.
My heartbeat sped up to an impossible rhythm.
I wasn’t sure which was more terrifying – whatever Aurora was
transforming into, or the rabid monsters trying to reach us. I had no clue if
she was becoming a Livløs or some other atrocious being, but becoming a
Livløs was irreversible, which meant one thing – necromancers or not, we
couldn’t save Aurora if she kept going like this. On the other hand, if she
transformed into an immortal, soulless creature, no one would be able to
save us from the Nøkk.
Still keeping one hand on her wrist, I reached for my neck with the
other, pulled the Eitrhals over my head, then shoved it under her nose.
“Take my necklace and put it on!” I screamed over the Nøkk’s gurgling
cries and my own pulse’s throbbing. Both sounds bashed on my eardrums
mercilessly, while the pain in my leg kept creeping up.
She didn’t even look at me.
“Aurora!”
 Still no answer.
“AURORA!”
A voice in the wilderness.
“You’ll turn into a Livløs, and then we’ll all die!”
“I don’t want your ugly jewelry or whatever it is you’re holding!”
“Aurora, if I die out here, I’ll return as a fucking apparition and haunt
your ass till the rest of time! If you thought I was a nuisance before, wait
until you see me as Casper!”
She kept glaring at the horrors above my head, not bothering to give me
an answer, let alone take the Eitrhals.
Fuck it! I yanked her by the wrist and stuck her hand through the chain,
just as she fought back and pushed me aside.
Tripping on the rocky ground, I was overtaken by a new rush of blazing
fire. The agony reached my torn leg’s base. It felt like someone had
replaced my hipbone with a heated metal rod, and said someone was
twisting it inside my body, burning me from the inside out. The pain grew
more unbearable by the second. I couldn’t even rely on my adrenaline to
fight it anymore. All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears.
When the flames reached my waist, I couldn’t contain myself any
longer, and so I screamed, giving voice to the fervent agony. Pitch darkness
settled under my eyelids.
I was dying, and this time no one was around to save me.
Aurora had finally gotten her wish.
 

A Change Of Heart
I woke up to muted light coming from a nightstand, but I wasn’t in my
room. This one had extremely high ceilings with some strange wooden
arches I couldn’t quite make out. My vision couldn’t focus that far, but at
least it gave me confirmation I wasn’t near any Nøkk, which was all I could
have hoped for.
When I tried to turn my head to the side, I nearly lost consciousness.
Blinking slowly and applying the good old Pilates breathing techniques,
I managed to gain control of my body. My eyes made out a human
silhouette sitting nearby. The nightstand lamp’s light reflected off his
golden hair, but the rest was a black blur.
I closed my eyes, inhaled, then opened them again. One by one, all
smudges and shadows scattered, revealing what was probably the last
person I expected to see.
Dann Nordstrøm.
“Hey, troublemaker.”
He spoke with a grim tone, perfectly matching the look on his face. I
tried to sit up, but my limbs had other plans. Heavy and leaden, they refused
to obey.
“Be careful. Your body’s been in a vegetative state for eighteen hours.
You were scratched by a Nøkken, and her paralytic poison hasn’t fully left
your system.”
“If you…” My voice came out surprisingly wheezy. I breathed in and
swallowed. “If you’ve come here to… personally scold me… for
endangering your precious sister’s life… You should know it wasn’t my
idea… to go spying on… Ariel and her fucking kin.”
 His mouth curved to the side in a woeful smile.
“You’re on a deathbed and still making jokes. No, I’ve come here to
thank you for saving my sister’s life. Frankly, I can’t imagine if she had
died and we couldn’t…” He paused and inhaled deeply. “I wouldn’t be able
to live with myself if I lost her.”
My familiar sibling jealousy returned, but a moment later Aurora’s
friend rushed into my mind.
“Dann… the other girl–”
“Is lost,” he interrupted me before I could explain.
He didn’t say dead. He said lost. I remembered the inscription in the
stone. En mann er ikke død med mindre hans sjel går tapt. A man is not
dead unless his soul is lost.
“Forsand is built over an area with intersecting ley lines. By the time we
reached the site, her spirit had left Midgard along with her soul. We
couldn’t do much for her, except restore her body to one piece and send it
home to her parents.”
I tried to imagine Gabriella being actually soulless, not just acting like a
soulless drama queen. Then I heard Aurora’s voice.
Do it now! Pull the waters away from the shore, and we can save her!
You’re an Elemental, for fuck’s sake! Do it now!
“Aurora… she said we could save her,” I mumbled, guiltily looking at
my fingers. “She told me… as an Elemental, I could–”
“You couldn’t have done anything.”
His gratitude over me saving Aurora’s life obviously blinded him to a
point where he thought I was innocent. For some reason, realizing this only
made me feel guiltier.
“It was my fault,” I muttered under my nose. “Gabriella… She wouldn’t
have been there if I hadn’t… It was like… I was mesmerized. Spellbound…
I walked to the edge. She followed me.”
“Learyn, necromancers can’t be mesmerized. Our magical core thrives
on the most poisonous substance known in all Nine Realms. Eitr prevents
us from being mesmerized by Nøkk, dragons and other creatures; and I
assure you, your soul has plenty of eitr. Nøkken beauty can be mesmerizing
to us, but in other ways. I believe you were simply taken aback because you
hadn’t seen a Nøkken before.”
“No… I was drawn to them. Like, enough to… enough to go near the
edge. Why?”
 His head dropped to the side. “Unhealthy curiosity, remember?”
I bit my lip, remembering my infamous unhealthy curiosity about the
Warded Sections’ books. Knowing what this curiosity led to now, I was
glad my access to those library sections was cut off by magical barriers.
“Nobody blames you for what happened at Forsand, and you shouldn’t
punish yourself for it.”
He reached out and caught my hand.
My limbs felt numb, almost jelly-like, but the sympathetic gesture
evoked a wave of soft warmth. It started from my fingertips, moved over to
my wrist and kept spreading through my body. It was a pleasant sensation.
The kindness of his caress caught me so off guard, I forgot about the rest.
So, when the door on my right opened with a startling sound, bringing
back my full awareness, I nearly jumped. Aurora marched in with a fierce
stride, but came to a halt when her gaze landed on her brother’s hand.
“We were just talking about you,” he said, pulling away.
“I want to speak to one Dustrikke,” she emphasized my last name
through gritted teeth, “alone!”
Dann stood up promptly. In the blink of an eye he was already gone,
Aperturing out of the room without uttering a single word.
Wow! First, she had hit him in the face with a snowball for talking to
me. Now, she almost growled at him with a nagging tone. The first time, he
had basically sent me away, and now, he had literally vanished. Blondie
hated me, so it made sense she didn’t like me getting friendly with her
brother, but I had no idea why he indulged her like that.
Sighing and looking around, I finally took in my surroundings.
Sets of grey curtains graced the wall across me, probably hiding
windows. The room held no more than a dozen single beds, with wooden
nightstands nestled in between. Strange. They seemed impractically
insufficient when the island had so many residents. I wondered if the doors
on my right side led to nurses’ offices and storage rooms, or to more patient
rooms.
Slowly reaching for the nightstand with a shaky hand, I managed to
clasp my fingers around a tall glass. Fortunately, someone had already
poured water from a nearby jug. As I carefully sipped from the glass, trying
not to spill its contents, my eyes settled on a metal pole. There, a translucent
bag, filled with some pinkish liquid, was feeding a hose, which was
attached to a cannula protruding from my vein.
 Once again, I tried to sit up. Once again, my body failed me.
“Lie down,” Aurora ordered. “You won’t recover from the poison until
tomorrow.”
“Don’t say it like it’s my fault!” I snapped back hoarsely as a whirlwind
of irritation spurred through my very core. I didn’t have control over my
limbs, but my mouth was in a somewhat good enough condition to shower
her with the profanities she deserved. “If it wasn’t for you–”
“If it wasn’t for me, all three of us would be on the bottom of the ocean
right now. But if it wasn’t for your Eitrhals, I wouldn’t have been able to
prevent our deaths.”
“Don’t you mean my ugly jewelry? By the way, that was a great thank-
you speech! And where’s Monika?”
“Fine. I’m sorry for not accepting the necklace sooner. Point is, we’re
all alive. My wounds were sealed, Monika didn’t get a single scratch, and
you’ll be back on your feet soon.”
But point was, not all of us were alive. A girl was dead.
“Here,” she muttered, thrust her hand in her pocket, took out the
Eitrhals, and put it on the nightstand.
“Geez, Aurora, don’t beat yourself over your unbearable amount of
guilt!” I nagged sarcastically, but she was already walking away.
Why did she hate me so much, that she couldn’t act normal after we
literally shared a near-death experience? Saving someone’s life surely had
to count for something. At least it always did in movies. Yet, she hadn’t
even thanked me.
A step away from the door, Aurora turned and snarled with a bestial
grimace. “Stay away from Dann!”
There was something eerie in her tone, a sinister note that sounded
almost like she’d just made a deadly threat on my life, although she hadn’t.
And the way she spoke her brother’s name... It was possessive, like she had
spoken of an item instead of another being.
I recalled the fury in her eyes when she’d seen his hand over mine.
Then I recalled how she spoke my name, emphasizing the word, and how
he stormed off, as though he’d been reprimanded for something. Finally, I
remembered seeing them with entwined fingers, while embracing and being
weirdly physical in the middle of the Dining Hall one day.
“He’s had his fun with you; it’s time to throw you away with the rest of
his insipid playthings!”
 Wow. She definitely sounded possessive.
“Is this some sort of a creepy Game of Thrones incest thing you two
have going on?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Ew! He’s my brother, idiot!”
“My point exactly,” I nodded towards her disgusted expression before
she walked away.
As if it wasn’t enough how this place was getting freakier by the
second, now it seemed like I had a brand-new problem on my hands.
Aurora had outspokenly hated me from day one for unknown reasons. But
if she thought I was fooling around with her brother, she probably intended
on being a bigger bitch than ever.

* * *

I signed out of the infirmary on Sunday morning.

Once I pulled out my charger and switched my phone back to life, I
dialed Monika’s number. She didn’t pick up, so I tried my aunt a couple of
times to no avail. Her phone was either turned off or she was outside
network coverage, and all I got was her voicemail. Again.
It was the first day of December, a month since I’d last seen her, but it
was also the first time I actually wanted to speak to her. Scratch that, I
needed to speak to her. Not because of some American tradition, but
because she was my family. So much had happened in a month. Back in
November, I had been a total bitch to her. The memories made my residue
anger tone down, my guilt turn more severe, and the need to hear her voice
– grow that much stronger.
They also made me wonder if Nordstrøm Island was supposed to
protect me from the Nøkk. But that thought quickly fled my mind. After all,
Monika had said the Norwegian Sea was full of Nøkk. If I was supposed to
be running from them, there’d be no point for my aunt to send me on an
island nestled in their abodes.
My roommate turned up long after dark, prompting me to lift my nose
from books filled with spells. In view of my brush with death by monsters, I
couldn’t think about sleep.
“Learyn, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, chewing her lower lip.
Fortunately, just as Aurora had pointed out yesterday, Monika didn’t
have a scratch.
“Sorry about what?
 “Everything. I never meant for someone to die or for you to get hurt.”
Swallowing loudly, I was overtaken by guilt again.
It hadn’t been my idea to sneak out. Moreover, as Dann had mentioned,
what happened wasn’t really my fault. Still, I couldn’t forget how Aurora
thought I could have helped save her friend.
“Learyn, the Nøkk are peaceful, and if I knew they’d go bloodthirsty on
us, I never would have–”
“Please stop. I don’t blame you for asking me to come, but I really don’t
wanna bust my head asking myself why some peaceful magical creatures
wanted us dead. I prefer spending my time learning ways to use my magic,
so I can be more useful next time.”
“But I never should have taken you with us in the first place! It’s against
protocol. I should have known better. My mother was right not to trust me.”
Protocol? Her mother?
“What do you mean against protocol? Am I not allowed to leave the
island? I know there are protections and wards, but not leaving would be
ridiculous. What am I, stuck here until Christmas?” I frowned at the idea of
having to spend the most family-friendly holiday locked up in this place. “I
can’t bear the thought of playing Secret Santa with Aurora without giving
her something other than a box full of fresh Nøkken shit.”
She shook her locks of purple hair. “No, you were never supposed to
leave. Not until your aunt came here, anyway.”
“Do I look like an underage witch to you?”
She scratched her knee, avoiding my eyes.
“Well, um… You’re a Class Five necromancer. They couldn’t let you go
out in the world without at least some basic training because… Umm,
people get hurt.”
People like Aurora’s friend. Like the boy who tried to drag me away
from my swallow. Like the island’s guards.
I was once again involved in an accident because of which the Council's
asses were going to be lit on fire. How long was Aurora’s uncle going to put
up with my crap before he kicked me out?
“What does protocol mean?”
She broke into tears.
I jumped on my feet and hugged her, guiding her to sit on her bed. A
cold lump settled in my throat while she shook and trembled, hiding her
face from me.
 “Monika, what is it?”
“I-I’m…” She pushed me away. The lump grew even colder. Maybe
Monika was one of those people who hated physical comfort when they
were upset, and my attempts to make it better had made it worse for her. “I-
I’m… I’m…”
“Okay, you don’t have to say it if you don’t want to,” I tried to reassure
her, even though my uneasy voice probably didn’t do the trick.
“No, I’m a-a Sentinel, like-like my brother. W-we…We… Oh, I’m
sorry, I’m s-so sorry, it sh-shouldn’t have h-happened, any of it… It… all…
my… f-fault.”
Her sobs drowned out the rest of her words, and she became
inconsolable.
With yet another unsuccessful attempt to hug her, I gave up and let her
cry it out, watching with a sinking heart. Aurora didn’t look guilty over
what had happened with her friend. My guilt wasn’t overwhelming enough
to prevent me from reading. So, that left Monika, who was obviously
carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
After what seemed like forever, her trembling convulsions eased to a
point where she was able to lift her head. Her face was glistening, her
clothes were dripping wet. Some hair strands were also soaked, and it took
me all I had not to try hugging her again.
I wished I could swap my Elemental powers with her Sentinel ones
because she was a heartbreaking sight. Monika had been there for me from
the very beginning, never backing away. Despite my attitude, despite the
troubles I caused, and despite the reasons why half of the island saw me as
a laughing-stock while the rest thought I’d become a monster.
“Wanna talk about something else?” I broke the awkward silence. “How
about your mundane studies in Oslo? Maksim said something about you
wanting to join the government.”
Her nails dug into her hips. “No, I want to tell you the truth. About the
guardians and everything.”
Guardians. Aurora had used that word. And Maksim had said it, but
hadn’t explained what it meant, because we had moved on to practicing my
evocation.
“What truth, Monika?”
Her shoulders slouched forward. For a second, her watery eyes
appeared on the verge of another breakdown.
 “My brother and I… We come from a line of Sentinel guardians since
before they moved from Denmark. My mother is in politics, but the rest are
guardians working for citadels, law enforcement organizations and… and
places similar to this one.”
“Okay,” I said quietly.
“My mother tried to force me to follow tradition. That’s how you
became my roommate.”
“Hallvard Nordstrøm told Administration to put me in your room, not
your mother. And what does that have to do with me? What’s a guardian?”
“They wanted me to become part of your team.”
She rested her elbows on her knees and dropped her head in her hands.
“Monika, I don’t understand any of this.”
“You’re a Dustrikke. Some guardians serve as protectors of people like
you. Like… like magical bodyguards. I didn’t tell you because I never
wanted to become a guardian to begin with. I knew if I persuaded my
mother, they would have appointed you someone else later, when your aunt
came here.”
“Why would I need protection from something?” I asked one of the
questions bothering me since the night my aunt shipped me off to Norway.
She straightened up, glancing in my direction.
“Because you’re a direct descendant of Linnea Dustrikke.”
“Why would I need protection?” I repeated.
“There… there are forces in Midgard and beyond it, and for them we,
necromancers, and our eitr, are just pawns in a larger game.”
“So, guardians protect eitr?”
She slowly rubbed her thighs, avoiding my eyes and staring straight
ahead. “Eitr, and many other things.”
Instinctively, I drew back from her.
“So, the Council made you put up with me because they groomed you
to be my magical bodyguard?”
“They won’t make me a guardian after I caused the death of a Zolotov
student and broke protocol, knowing full well about the anti-Aperture
wards. But I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen. I just wanted you to
see what it was like to be outside. And only because Aurora was with us. I
can’t Aperture anywhere off the island or get back on it with magic, only
guards can overpower the anti-Aperture wards. Aurora knows how to do it,
because she’s Hallvard’s niece.”
 I exhaled, suddenly aware I had forgotten to breathe for a while.
This was why my aunt said I’d be safer here. It wasn’t only because of
wards, protections and guards. It wasn’t only because I’d be able to develop
my dangerous magical skill set and learn how to control it away from
humans.
It was also because they would appoint me my personal security detail.
Not one, but an entire team of guardians, as Monika had disclosed.
“How long have you known about this?”
“Since the day you came here. Remember when my phone buzzed, and
I had to leave you? It was a text from my Mom. The Council called me in
and told me why they’ve made you my roommate. I tried to fight it, but
after the whole island saw your Draug, my mother was explicit of your need
for someone to watch over you, even if that someone wasn’t an official
guardian.”
I didn’t reply.
The Council didn’t see me as a problematic Dustrikke who would need
to live up to her great ancestors’ name. They saw me as their precious
fucking gem. One who had to wear an Eitrhals, needed a set of eyes to spy
on her, and had to put up with someone as relentless as Brühl.
“You’re missing most of the time,” I noted quietly. “How did they
expect you to watch over me?”
“By quitting my mundane studies in Oslo, which I didn’t do. My mother
didn’t trust I can do both. She was right.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth earlier?” I asked with bated breath.
A tear rolled down her face.
“I wanted to, but my mother said they don’t want to cause panic
because you were safe inside the castle. And they wouldn’t have made me
an official guardian before I completed my magical training, so… I figured
I had enough time to change my mother’s mind, and… Well, this way, there
wouldn’t have been a secret anymore.”
But she was wrong.
Changing her mother’s decision wouldn’t have put the end to a secret. It
simply meant she would have buried said secret and pretended it never
happened.
Cold, blunt numbness settled deep within me.
“Learyn, please believe me. I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
 Neither one of us did, but in the end, our intentions didn’t matter. At
least not to Gabriella and her family.
“I still don’t understand one thing. You pulled me from the edge when
that Nøkken grabbed me. If you knew souls can get lost in Forsand, why
didn’t you also pull Gabriella before the Nøkk reached her?”
“It was extraction protocol. Nordstrøm and Dustrikke come first, in
order of whoever is in greater danger. I didn’t… I didn’t think about
anything else, and tried to drag you to Aurora, so she could get us back
here.”
“Extraction protocol,” I repeated quietly.
Part of me wanted to hear a different answer. Maybe something like I’d
been hurt and Monika saw it, which was why she rushed to get me first.
Maybe how she was worried for her roommate. Friend, even?
But instead, I heard extraction protocol.
It was all I had been to her, just an assignment forced down on her by
the Council. Hallvard’s gang thought she’d be able to help me with my
transition on top of secretly acting like a guardian. I was just a Dustrikke to
them and just a Dustrikke to her. She wasn’t being friendly to me because
of me, but because of my last name.
Here I was, believing I had clicked with someone and finally managed
to start letting people in, when all I had been believing was yet another
string of lies.
The revelation should have hurt. Maybe deep down it really did. My
capacity for feeling pain was so fucking full, all I felt was the burning need
to punch something.
“I’m sending that Christmas box full of shit under your tree!”
Before she could reply, I stormed out of the room, slamming the door
behind me as hard as I could. I didn’t give a damn if I broke it. I didn’t give
a damn if Monika had something else to tell me. I didn’t give a damn if I
woke up the entire freaking castle. I didn’t even give a damn where my feet
were taking me. All I knew was that I had to get away.
But how could I?
Coming to Norway, hoping the change of scenery would give me a
change of mind, becoming a necromancer-in-learning, accepting my true
identity… It was all for nothing. A month ago, relocating to Europe had
seemed right, yet here I was, countless miles away, and I still had
nightmares, trust issues, an extremely short fuse, and a lack of people who
classified as friends.
Moving from one corridor to another, my anger slowly gave way to a
weird sort of need to lock myself in the comfort of my old room in San
Francisco. I couldn’t do that, so I opted for the next best thing. I pulled out
my phone and dialed my aunt’s number, desperate to hear her familiar voice
and pretend for a second I wasn’t here.
Voicemail.
“Aunty, you were right to keep me away. I’m sorry for acting out the
way I did. You wanted me to have a safe life away from all this, and I
should have listened to you instead of blamed you. You made the right
choice. I didn’t realize it back then, but I do now. I miss you. Call me back
when you get this.” I was about to hang up, then remembered something
else. “Thank you for keeping me safe and alive all these years, and…” I
didn’t want to worry her, so I just added, “And I really am sorry. Please call
me back when you can.”
Hanging up with a heavy sigh, I glanced around. What now?
I had a roommate who had only been pretending to be my friend from
day one. I had the death of a girl on my conscience. I had Aurora who
obviously hated me more than ever. I had a creepy Nøkken song stuck in
my head. And I had the line Marked by Amyria picking at my brain. Who
was Amyria, and what did those creatures mean by it?
“Dustrikke!”
An unknown man in a black guard’s uniform approached.
“Ugh, what?” I groaned. “Is this corridor forbidden or something?”
“What are you doing roaming around so late? Are you trying to run off
again?”
“Of course not, I like being alive.” I wasn’t lying, but my next statement
was indeed a lie – one taken straight from Dann Nordstrøm’s playbook. “I
was heading to the library, decided to take a different route, ended up lost.
Got any pointers for me?”
He studied me head to toe.
“I’ll lead you there.”
“Geez, thanks, looks like I have a brand-new security detail. How
fancy! Are you gonna put men in front of my bedroom door to keep my
midnight snacking in check?”
 “Do not joke about this! We take the safety of everyone seriously,
especially now, when a visitor from the Zolotov Academy was lost while
under our protection.”
FML! Did he have to remind me?
“Look, buddy, if you think I don’t feel guilty, you’re wrong! It wasn’t
my idea to sneak out, so trust me when I tell you, I prefer staying inside the
castle, surrounded by wards and protections, next to risking my life again.
Or the lives of others!”
“I can’t let you wander the halls in good faith of your word. The
library’s this way.”
I gave up on arguing and let him lead the way until we reached two
familiar doors. He didn’t leave before making sure I opened them and
slipped inside the library. Who the hell had given him such stupid orders?
Did the Council really think I was going to cause more trouble? Were
Monika and Aurora also being watched and bossed around? I highly
doubted it. One of them was the daughter of Hallvard’s Right Hand. The
other one practically owned the place.
The way I saw it, there were two options – either go back to my room
and face Monika, or stay in the library and try to find something about this
Amyria person. Too overwhelmed by both, I picked a third option – go for a
walk and clear my head. I did live inside a freaking castle, after all. There
were tons of places I could go to.
And so, I slowly opened the doors, checked to see if the coast was clear,
snuck out and kept going.
Swapping one corridor for another, my direction was aimless until I
heard approaching footsteps and ran off, searching for a place to hide. It
looked like I was trying to bolt before, but if I was caught in the act twice in
one night, I’d definitely get myself in deep waters.
There was a single door on my left, so I decided to hide in whatever
room was behind it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a room behind it, but a
narrow, curved staircase, which sent me flying dozens of stony steps down.
When I finally managed to get a grip and overrule inertia, my body ached
so much, only the fear of getting caught prevented me from squealing in
pain.
Rubbing the painful spots, I turned my phone’s flashlight app on, then
slowly kept going down until the end of the stairs. A metal door barred my
way. Opening it resulted in a nasty creaking sound, ringing disturbingly in
my ears. I grimaced, praying nobody had heard it.
The door led to a small, torch-lit gallery with arched ceiling. Numerous
other doors stood on both sides, while the wall across me ended with a
curve. Turning off the flashlight app and crossing the gallery, I faced a long
tunnel stretching far beyond that curve. There were more doors, too many
doors, and my brain hamster finally spun on its wheel. I was probably
somewhere in the basements.
Or rather, the dungeons.
Icy shivers ran down the back of my neck, making all the sore places
grow numb.
Maksim had said the dungeons were used for storage and Húsvættir
sleeping grounds. Recalling the first and only time I had seen a house spirit,
I preferred not to see an entire horde of them. Then again, next to the Nøkk,
house spirits actually didn’t look so bad. But just as I was about to turn
back, a quiet melody broke through the silence and rendered me motionless.
Someone was playing piano in the castle’s dungeons.
Still angry at Monika, I was afraid of bumping into guards, and I didn’t
see Húsvættir as the scariest creatures in the universe anymore. All of these
factors joined forces, prompting me to follow the sound. House spirits had
short hands and eight crooked fingers, or at least the one I’d seen did. Yet,
the music sounded so exquisite and gentle, my infamous unhealthy curiosity
got the best of me.
I paused in front of a door and listened closely. It was definitely coming
from behind it, and so I put my hand on the handle. Sneaking up on
someone wasn’t polite, but I was too curious and unwilling to go back, so I
pulled the door.
There wasn’t anything behind it, just some dark space the size of a
small pantry, with more doors on both opposite ends, and a tiny barred
window across me. Obstructed by clouds, pale moonlight barely lit up the
emptiness around me. Combined with the fact that this was probably once a
cell, my surroundings only made me regret the decision to seek a hiding
spot behind that first door upstairs.
I closed my eyes and listened. The music bounced off the stony walls
and resonated across every single inch of empty space. Drawing a short
breath, I opted for the right.
 What awaited there was a two-by-two-feet cell. Countless strings of
chains hung from its ceiling like a beaded curtain. Varying in thickness and
size, they were strung along in a chaotic zigzag-like sequence, forcing me
to imagine the horrible things they had been used for. And all the bloody
wounds they had carved into naked flesh before someone had stored them
here.
Frostbite licked my spine. I spun around and ran straight for the other
door.
What awaited there wasn’t a dungeon cell. Numerous boxes and uneven
bumps, hidden under white covers, were spread all over the place. They
gave off a ghastly impression that someone had died here, and their family
had covered his or her furniture with white bed sheets. On the bright side,
as appalling as this storage room was, no chains and shackles graced it.
Slowly making my way around the boxes and covered items, I did my
best not to brush against whatever was hiding under the white sheets.
Reaching the far end, I grabbed the handle of yet another door.
It led me to a huge room, lit by two ancient candelabras, with a single
piece of furniture between them – a gigantic grand piano with an open top
lid. It revealed metallic and wooden mechanisms, standing out against the
instrument’s ebony exterior. The piano player wasn’t a house spirit.
It was Dann Nordstrøm.
A sullen look was etched on his face. With eyes closed and mouth
curved down in a frown, his eyebrows were furrowed, carving deep creases
on his forehead.
Aurora’s words invaded my mind. I could see why she thought there
was something between us. I could see all the reasons now.
He was tall and slender, slightly muscular. Blond. Blue-eyed. And only
twenty-six. When he smiled, a set of cute dimples dug into his cheeks. I
couldn’t deny he was handsome, but there was more to him. He was patient
and polite, his mind was sharp and perceptive, and he read poetry, which
led me to believe he was one of those romantic types. On top of it all, he
played the piano. Yeah, it definitely made sense for Dann to have an entire
legion of insipid playthings.
Fortunately for his sister, I wasn’t interested in becoming one.
I couldn’t see his hands because they were hidden by the instrument’s
body, but I could tell he was a skillful pianist. The melody sounded deep,
accompanied by delicate high notes from time to time. The flow was
seamless, like he wasn’t lifting his fingers from the keys at all; but I had
never played piano, so I didn’t know what was going on in front of him.
The music was too captivating. I forgot the creepy cells and storage
rooms. Apparently, I had even forgotten how to breathe, and realized it only
when the melody ceased.
Fuck! He had seen me. Amidst the sudden silence, the sound of my
swallowing pounded on my eardrums.
His expression quickly changed from startled to surprised, then to full-
blown stony. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t pick out a single emotion in him. I
closed the door behind me and leaned on it. No matter how much I stared,
his exterior was impenetrable.
“It was beautiful,” I admitted after a while. “Did you write it?”
“Just an improvisation on Queen of Rain by Roxette. The original is
better.”
“The Swedish chick who got famous with Listen To Your Heart?”
“Duo act, not a chick,” he corrected me with an edifying voice, which
became cynical. “I won’t lock you in a tower for that statement, solely
because you were raised in America and the album was released long
before you were born.”
“Cute. And which dinosaur produced it?” I snapped back, always
unable to bite my tongue when I needed to.
His silence made me wonder if I had struck where I shouldn’t have.
Maybe I had overstepped some music-related boundary on top of insulting
him a few weeks ago. When all he’d done was act kind and forgiving,
despite me being my typical bitchy self.
“I see.” He spoke before I could find a way to apologize, this time
lacking cynicism, but his voice was as numb as his face. “You’re the only
one who can use a joke to lighten things up.”
“Said the guy playing piano in the darkness of the castle’s dungeons.”
“Ironical, yes. The darkness and the dungeons don’t bother me. I like
the peace and quiet down here.”
Perfect! It hadn’t even crossed my stupid mind to apologize for ruining
his peace and quiet by bursting in here.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“Apology accepted.”
“I thought the dungeons were used for storage and Húsvættir sleeping
grounds. Don’t they get woken by the piano? I heard it in many rooms
before I found this one.”
“Húsvættir are nocturnal creatures, therefore they don’t sleep at this
hour. Besides, they might not resemble the humans you’re used to seeing,
but appearances can be deceptive. They like music just as much as every
other person.”
“And music is meant to ease their enslavement?”
“We don’t endorse slavery. Housekeeping is in the nature of the
Húsvættir; and they receive various forms of payment, both monetary and
magical. I simply meant that they like it when I play.”
I remained silent.
There was still so much of this world I couldn’t understand, including
the whole deal with house spirits. When I puked after my first missed
evocation exercise, a house spirit manifested itself in broad daylight to
clean my mess. It definitely hadn’t seemed fond of doing so, despite Dann
and Maksim claiming the Húsvættir liked tending to a household.
For a little while, I had forgotten why I decided to take a midnight tour.
The beautiful melody he played and his modesty about it, along with our
talk about the house spirits, had taken my mind off the real issues.
But in the midst of the silence it all came back to me.
“Was the Council really going to keep my guardian situation a secret
from me? Don’t bother lying, because Monika already confessed.”
He eyed the piano’s keys with the same impenetrable exterior.
“I’m not surprised she told you. Monika is convinced everything that
happened to the four of you is completely her fault. The way I see it, it was
the result of a series of poor choices each of you made. Nevertheless, no
one can blame you for not being able to predict the Nøkk’s attack.”
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes, we would have kept it a secret until you were ready to take your
place in the world outside. It’s best for you to focus on your training rather
than worry about what lies beyond the castle walls.”
“So, I can’t have a say in how I should live my own life?”
He fixed his eyes on mine, still as expressionless as the stone wall
behind him. Weird. He’d seem so friendly and approachable when I woke
up in the infirmary. This switch from amiable to cold bothered me. I
preferred him being sincere, even if he was delusional because I’d saved his
sister’s life.
“Well?” I pressed with growing irritation.
 “I also have a guardian, I actually have an entire team of guardians; and
as such, I can tell you it’s not something you should be rebelling against.”
“You’re a fucking Council member, Dann; I’m just an insignificant
island resident! I don’t need someone to watch my every move!”
“You’re not insignificant. Every single soul on this island is equally
significant and deserving of every protection we can provide, regardless of
their last name.”
“That’s not my point!”
“I know what your point is. If you still feel the same way after you’ve
completed your training, you can take up the guardian issue with the
Council. Until then, we won’t try to force someone into taking Monika’s
place. We took a vote and came to a conclusion that for the time being, the
most practical decision would be to let you worry only about learning how
to control your abilities.”
Maybe it was because he wasn’t a shriveled, coldhearted, ancient
asshole like the rest of the Council members. Maybe it was because it
seemed like they had learned their lesson with the guardian fiasco. Or
maybe it was because he was friendly and cared for everyone, even when
they acted out. Unsure of the exact reason, somehow I trusted him.
“What’s the deal with the Council, anyway? From what I’ve heard,
Johanna Larsen is in politics. What about the rest? Why does your uncle
need them?”
He stared at me for a few heartbeats, without even blinking. I had never
met anyone who had perfected the poker face to such extent.
“In the early twentieth century, a Nordstrøm gathered eight other
powerful necromancers, forming what they called a Council of Nine. All
Council members were allowed to monitor his affairs closely as a means to
find proof Nordstrøms had changed.”
“Changed how?” I demanded, overtaken by curiosity.
“Stopped killing, taking blood slaves, stealing souls, lusting to bring
Midgard and realms beyond it to their knees. Frankly, the Council has
always been nothing more than an overpraised formality. If we wanted to
sow terror, a handful of casters wouldn’t stop us.”
“Wooow! And here we joked about me going into Sauron mode. So,
your ancestors are the reason for Dark Ages in the supernatural
communities? And that’s why magical schools don’t allow necromancers?
And video games portray them as the villains?”
 He nodded a couple of times, then his gaze dropped. The stony face
never changed.
“But people trust you now,” I said after a while. “This island is a safe
haven for different types of creatures. And my aunt didn’t send me to some
other place in search for safety. She sent me here.”
“Yes, because the island is the most heavily warded place in Midgard.
Not everyone trusts us, though. That’s where the Council comes in. They
are all Class Five necromancers with cleaner reputations than ours. If they
trust us, the world out there is more likely to trust us. Hallvard keeps them
as a means to verify we won’t return to our ancestors’ savagery.”
“Like secretly raising an army of Draugar and stolen souls on those
floating islands?”
“Something like that.” He looked up from the piano’s keys. “You can go
there if you want to, but first you need to learn how to travel through a
portal. The first few times might be hard.”
I crossed my ankles, fully leaning against the door. “Do you assume
everything might be hard for me because I wasn’t raised like you?”
“Not everything, just some aspects. And it’s completely natural to find
them difficult. While we’re on the subject, did you get a chance to read the
Svipdagsmál poems?”
The mention of those two poems made me more uneasy than his
expressionless mask. Of course I had read them, and of course I had
regarded them as a piece of off-putting fiction. The plot was centered on the
hero’s quest to find his love, which was the last thing I wanted to think
about.
“Yeah. Both. Let’s go back to the Council thing. Why are you on it?
What does your uncle gain out of you being there, instead of another Class
Five necromancer who isn’t a Nordstrøm?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Hallvard wants me to take over after
he steps down.”
“Why?”
He drew in a deep breath. Just as I thought I’d see the friendly Dann
resurface, he simply twisted his neck back, eyeing the ceiling.
“Because the Institute for Necromancers in Sweden closed down and I
blew my chances of teaching at the Zolotov Academy in Russia. Are you
asking me out of your infamous unhealthy curiosity, or are you trying to
avoid the subject of the Svipdagsmál poems?”
 Something about his cold, wintry tone made me feel even worse. Losing
two teaching positions – as unbelievable as it seemed for such an awesome
lecturer – was obviously a painful topic for him.
Nice work, Learyn, I told myself. The guy kept being friendly for weeks,
and all you did was strike where you shouldn’t. No wonder you don’t have
any friends.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“What did you think of the poems?”
Dann was one of the few good lecturers I had encountered in my life.
Screw that! He topped the list of the best lecturers I had encountered. After
everything I’d been through lately, I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I
tried to pick my words carefully.
“Umm… I can agree about Svipdag’s journey being difficult.
Everything you said about him was true.”
His hands dropped to the sides and his eyes bore into mine.
“You didn’t relate to Svipdag?”
“Maybe it’s because he lived in medieval times? And things were
different back then?”
“Some things are timeless.”
I didn’t reply.
He kept looking at me with that same expression. Flat and devoid of
emotion. It was like staring at a thick wall and trying to guess what the fuck
was happening behind it.
Silence. Nothing other than silence.
As if the stairs weren’t painful and the dungeons creepy enough already,
his reaction made my ending up here even more awkward. Why was he
playing the piano here, when he had an entire castle with many peaceful
and quiet rooms? And why did I have to get lost exactly in the dungeons?
Just because nowadays they weren’t used for incarceration, it didn’t mean
they were cozy.
Most of all, Dann’s cold silence made this entire situation almost
unbearable.
Despite his previous friendliness, he still had the ability to seem way
too intimidating for someone who was only twenty-six. Maybe it was the
icy color of his eyes. Or maybe it was his last name. It sure as hell wasn’t
his lecturing position, let alone his position on the Council, because my
problem with authority knew no bounds.
 “Can I ask you something?” I muttered after an eternity.
A smile broke through his expressionless mask, carving that set of
dimples in his cheeks, and he suddenly became less intimidating.
“What truant thoughts run through thy head?”
He spoke the question in English. This time I didn’t get any of the
strange sensations from the night he had recited poetry.
I readjusted my body against the door, trying to formulate my question.
After examining the floor as if it held answers, I decided to be a grown-up
and search for them myself.
“Why are you always nice and forgiving to me? I’ve caused troubles for
the Council, disrupted your discipline, vandalized a room, attacked guards
with death magic, transformed the island’s fauna into undead creatures,
insulted you personally, and done other stupid shit.”
“Do any of the aforementioned pose a reason for me not to be nice and
forgiving?”
Yeah, I replied in my mind, judging by the response every other person
eventually had to my screw-ups.
“Is it because I’m a Dustrikke?” I spilled the words before even
contemplating on them. My fingers instinctively clutched the Eitrhals to
ease the weight it suddenly pressed onto my chest.
He glanced at the piano’s keys again. “Tragic, isn’t it? How a single
word can possess enough power to become such a burden.”
Taken aback by his perspicacious conclusion, I remained silent.
Was I really so transparent? Or did he understand because bearing the
Nordstrøm name was a burden for him thanks to his ancestors? I wasn’t
sure how to ask either question.
“It’s not because you’re a Dustrikke. I don’t treat anyone differently
because of their last name.”
“You believe everyone deserves a second chance, huh?”
“No, actually. I believe everyone deserves a plethora of chances because
there are many layers to every person. Unfortunately, more than one of
those layers is disappointing, hence why everyone should have more than
one additional chance to redeem themselves.”
“Isn’t that just a formula for more disappointment?”
His life wisdom had its advantages and was a redeeming quality on its
own, but I couldn’t accept it. When I gave new chances to people, it always
meant giving them new opportunities to disappoint me again.
 And when he opened his mouth, I didn’t get the answer I expected.
“Learyn, why are you wandering the sublevels at night?”
What the hell? Did everyone suddenly have a problem with me being
out of bed in the middle of the night? Was Dann, who had stated everyone
deserved many chances literally a minute ago, also worried I’d screw up
again?
“I didn’t mean to roam the dungeons. Got lost, followed the music,
ended up here.”
That was the truth. The I-needed-to-get-away-from-people’s-bullshit
truth was a different subject.
“Everyone is still on edge after the accident, and it’s a bad time to be
taking walks in the moonlight. You should get back to your room.”
Whoa! Why was he acting so strange and trying to get rid of me? He
didn’t mind being chatty about books and stuff a minute ago. Using my
shock’s silence, he spoke again.
“Go through the door behind me. It leads to a tunnel. Take the
passageway branching on the left. You’ll see a staircase. Climb the top
without taking any side routes on any of its landings. There’s a vertical flap
door at the end of the stairs, which will lead you to the central wing’s inner
entryway, near the main gates. I take it you can find your way to your room
from there?”
I nodded, staring at him in bewilderment.
Seriously, what had just happened? Based on my personal experience,
he was friendly with everyone, even when they provoked him. Since my
friend Monika was a lying piece of shit, everyone here was afraid of me,
and my mentor was an abusive ass, I had no one else to talk to apart from
Dann. And I actually liked talking to him. Jokes set aside, he was a calm
and reasonable grown-up.
Ironically enough, he obviously wanted me gone.
“Oookay. Sorry once again for ruining your privacy, and thanks for the
tips. I’ll get out of your hair.”
Before I could take more than a few steps, the dungeons disappeared.
I was standing in the middle of a thick, lush forest, screaming at Maksim
Larsen at the top of my lungs.
And I had never meant to say any of the words I was blurting out, but it
was already too late. I was so fucking aggravated, that I just couldn’t keep
my mouth shut.
“Dann was the first one who came to see me in the infirmary when my
blood was infected with Nøkken poison! Remember that? It was your
sister’s great idea to take me to a bunch of Nøkk in the first place, and she
didn’t even bother coming in to check if I was alive!”
Maksim had lost his grammar and lexis, but I sure as hell hadn’t. My
voice raged like the anger pulsating through my veins.
“Dann has always treated me like a normal person! Dann has always
cared for me, not for my last name! He was the only one who was there for
me because he wanted to, not because he was obliged to by the Council or
by the rest of this absurd necromantic hierarchy! Now tell me again how
he’s worse than the rest of your fucking friends!”
I blinked. Maksim, the forest, my anger – everything vanished. All I could
see was the castle’s dungeon and that damn expressionless mask painted on
Dann’s face again.
“What’s the matter?” His raspy voice was flat, even, like the look he
gave me. “You just came to a halt.”
“Nothing,” I muttered with confusion as to why my craziness had taken
over again, serving me another episode of what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-me.
This time, however, my hallucination, or whatever it was, kind of made
sense. I was hurt by Monika’s betrayal. Part of me thought Maksim had
known about the guardian thing from the beginning, which automatically
made him a liar. Trust issues occupied every cell in my body. My brain
basically screamed at me how the only person I could put my trust in was
Dann, because he hadn’t abused it yet.
But none of it explained why I was hallucinating. Or why these things
were happening only when I was around him. Not just around him, but
alone with him. And the library hadn’t given me any answers.
He had offered to talk about these weird visions once, but the last thing
I wanted was to admit I was a freak. So, I took another step, ready to walk
away. Then something else sprang to my mind.
“What does Marked by Amyria mean?”
“I don’t know.”
When he spoke, his eyes tore through me like jagged icicles. It didn’t
sound like a lie, but his wintry, reserved behavior was definitely hiding
something.
 “The Nøkk kept repeating it.”
“Yes, Aurora and Monika already mentioned that.”
“Aren’t you curious what it means?”
“I am, but I couldn’t find answers.”
“What if you searched in the wrong places?”
“Good night, Learyn.”
I nodded silently, biting back my urge to keep asking.
After following his directions, I ended up exactly where he said I
would. What he had failed to explain, however, was how the other side of
the vertical flap door, facing the roomy entryway, was a gigantic portrait of
some medieval dude.
It was a secret passageway! I had literally walked out of a secret
passageway!
The momentary excitement rushing through my system managed to
restore some of my previous awe of the castle, despite its hostile dungeons.
 

To Dwell On A Note
December brought more snow, plunging the world outside in serene
stillness.
The situation indoors was similar – cold and quiet – or at least it was in
my room. Although wall-mounted radiators kept temperatures inside the
castle pleasantly warm, chilly shivers kept running through me whenever I
saw something belonging to Monika. Which was basically all the time
because we shared a room.
I wasn’t speaking with her, despite her few attempts to apologize.
Apologies couldn’t erase the past and fix it. This time I wasn’t acting
childish and overemotional. I was simply being reserved and unwilling to
talk to the person who’d been lying and pretending ever since day one. And
instead of pondering over her hurtful betrayal, I chose to lock it away and
act like a grown-up, which meant keeping my attention strictly on magic
during the day. While at night, all I did was toss and turn.
Sleep was basically nonexistent. I felt like someone had squeezed me
like a dirty rag and wiped the floor with me.
I managed to stay awake during our book club’s monotonous discussion
on twentieth century Dökkálfar trials, Marcus Dahl’s disappointment of the
fact I couldn’t do anything about Aperture, then Svensson’s irritation over
the lack of an apparition in the pentagram I had drawn for our evocation
exercise. I was focusing with both guards and with Geira Brekke, but
despite my best attempts, I kept hearing gurgling noises and female shrieks
all day long.
“Try, Miss Dustrikke!”
 Svensson was getting impatient with me. My progress bar was still set
at zero.
“I’m beginning to think you’re not trying on purpose.”
She tapped her foot against the table’s leg. We were sitting opposite
each other, with my Spirit Trap between us.
“Maybe you’re right,” I admitted quietly. “Because maybe suppressing
my necromantic power is the best choice. This way nothing bad can come
from using my magic.”
“On the contrary. You must learn how to control it, otherwise you will
lose control, and nothing bad will become something disastrous. Or have
you forgotten what happened to my colleagues?”
“How could I forget?” I snapped, kicked back my chair and got up.
“How could I ever forget I unintentionally murdered two people? Just
because Marcus Dahl brought them back, it doesn’t make light of the fact
my magic was lethal. Now you’re asking me to bother the dead with the
same lethal magic. Why shouldn’t they get to finally rest in peace, away
from this fucked up world? Why shouldn’t monstrosities end with death?”
“Sit down, Miss Dustrikke, and focus on the task at hand. Spewing
profanities and rebelling against your own nature–”
“Screw this!”
Unable to stand it anymore, I stormed out.
Fortunately, at least Axel had had the decency to leave me alone.
Unfortunately, even the Dining Hall’s clamor couldn’t drown the sounds,
which still echoed in my ears as I headed back to bed later that night. I
spent it like the night before – fiddling with my bed covers, rearranging my
pillow and trying to remind myself I was nowhere near Forsand.
A moment of clarity hit me on Tuesday morning, courtesy of the shock I
experienced when Dann gave us sheets with a questionnaire. At first, I
anxiously shifted in my chair, associating it with my university quizzes.
Then I realized it was one of his methods of making sure the audience
grasped his words.
Once the initial shock left my system, the demons that haunted me took
over. The Nøkk’s guttural gurgling resurfaced, accompanied by the
screaming – an uneven, out-of-tune shrieking sequence of Monika and
Gabriella’s joint voices.
I scribbled answers about the ice giants’ battles in Niflheim, wrote the
names of numerous glacial lakes and the icy citadels covered by mist. I also
listed links between Midgard and the other Nine Realms.
Then came the last question.
I read it exactly three times. Something was off. It wasn’t like the rest.
This was more like those thesis questions they used in university or in
preliminary exams to make you boost your brain’s activity and come up
with an answer that would separate you from the flock of candidates.
Apart from the ones you have listed above, which supernatural species
do you think would be most likely to possess the ability to travel between
realms?
Apart from the ones listed above? I had most definitely not missed
anything above. Was it a trick question? Or was it just supposed to make us
rethink our answers and check if we weren’t forgetting something? Kind of
like the helpful question Dann had asked me when I forgot to describe the
Bifröst’s appearance in November?
Or was the question supposed to make us creatively propose our own
theory on the abilities of some supernatural species?
Another gurgle.
The only creatures I had read about in depth were the dark elves in
Midgard, the ones in Svartalfheim and the light elves in Alfheim. Neither of
them could travel through realms using their own magic.
Another scream.
The only creatures I had come across outside the castle, face to face,
were the Nøkk.
Marked by Amyria.
Claws, hitting dark cliffs. Claws, scraping over rocks. Claws, curling
around my ankle. Claws, carving holes into my skin. Claws, seeping poison
into my veins.
“Learyn!”
I jumped in my chair, suddenly aware I wasn’t in Forsand. Dann was
standing nearby, with a hand spread out in the empty air. I quickly handed
him my sheet, then looked around, hoping I hadn’t done something during
my trance-like state to make me seem like a freak. Again.
“Sorry. I was thinking about the final answer and got carried away.”
So far, no one around me showed signs I had acted out of the ordinary.
“I’d like a word with you after the lecture, please,” Dann said, and I
nodded, scanning an empty spot on the wall across from me.
 All the insane things I had seen on this island weren’t scary anymore.
The world out there was filled with real reasons for fear, worry and pain.
Unlike the horrible accidents which had happened here, some things simply
couldn’t be reversed even by necromancers – such as the death of Aurora’s
friend.
Gurgle. Scraping. Marked by Amyria.
Who was Amyria? Was she worth dying for? And was she the reason
my aunt relocated me from San Francisco to halfway across the world?
“This will be all for today. Thank you, everyone.”
Slowly approaching the platform with Dann’s desk and waiting for his
audience to exit, I wondered if my aunt knew more about Amyria than
Dann did. I’d have to ask her tomorrow. Regardless of how hurt and angry
she was with me, she was going to call me tomorrow.
Dann eyed me like he was waiting for me to say something, when it
should have been the other way around. After a few moments, which
stretched to eternity and back, he decided to speak.
“What happened earlier? I called your name three times before you
heard me.”
Shifting my weight from one leg to the other, I hesitated. My throat
tightened as soon as I realized it was expected of me to open up about the
truth.
“Like I said, I got carried away thinking about the final answer.”
He shuffled the stacks of paper on his desk and took out my sheet. After
a quick examination, he sighed and put it away. I already knew I hadn’t
answered the last question.
“You were thinking about the Nøkk, weren’t you?”
I stared at him in disbelief. How had he guessed? There was no way he
could have known what was going through my head. Unless…
“Are Nøkk among the species that can travel between realms?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
They weren’t? “Then how did you guess?”
“Judging by what I heard from Aurora and Monika’s explanations, it’s
only natural for you to be deeply affected by the experience you had. If you
want to talk to someone–”
“I don’t!” I interrupted him as soon as he delivered a suspicious
suggestion, sounding like I needed to seek help and open up to someone.
 “You can talk to me,” he said slowly, evenly, as if I hadn’t interrupted
him at all.
“I don’t need to talk about it.”
“I never said you have the need to,” he corrected me calmly, “I said if
you want to.”
Unsure of how to respond to his kind gesture, I remained silent.
He stared at me for what felt like forever. It made me really
uncomfortable, because he saw through my bullshit. I didn’t want people to
know just how shaken I really was, although as a Council member he had
the right to know exactly what had happened. Then again, he already knew.
“Please believe me when I say I don’t want to interrogate you on behalf
of the Council. I’m only offering you to talk to someone who has an idea of
what you might be going through.”
He had an idea? How could he have an idea? He hadn’t seen a girl get
brutally torn to death.
I couldn’t talk about it. The problem wasn’t that he was a Council
member. I had already seen enough of his personality, so I trusted him. The
problem was, I couldn’t bear the thought of being exposed like that.
Especially to him.
I knew he wanted to help, and if I opened up to him, he probably could
help.
He cared about everyone equally. I had seen him spar with those guards,
and heard him say how he wants to provide security and safety for everyone
on the island. Twice. He’d also read me like an open book. More than twice.
If there was a single person in this supernatural hellhole who was
genuinely kind, perceptive and capable of understanding my cynicism and
issues, it was him. After everything that had happened, his presence alone
evoked a sense of safety, and his personality was the only thing that made
this insane island seem warm and welcoming.
But I just couldn’t talk about it.
“Can I please go?” I pressed after a while, because he was still waiting
for my answer without breaking eye contact.
Those piercing icy blues stared at me almost as if they were trying to
penetrate my thoughts. With each passing second, I grew more anxious and
hesitant on whether I should take him up on that offer.
“Yes, you can go,” he finally uttered.
I ran for the door like my life depended on it.
 Instead of going to lunch, I hid in my bathroom, drowning the tension in
my muscles. Hot water and lack of sleep made me even drowsier than I
already was, and I suddenly found myself experiencing relief at the thought
of my upcoming Elemental session. Unlike Dann or Geira Brekke, Christof
Brühl wasn’t the type to get all sentimental. He wasn’t going to force me
into a heart to heart conversation. His irritating personality was a blessing
today.
As soon as I walked into the room we used, he delved exactly into the
subject he was supposed to avoid.
“I heard what happened during your escapades. In detail.”
Dropping on a chair with a loud groan and the grace of a mammoth, I
glared at my mentor’s resting scowl. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We will talk about it.”
“Why? Does this look like a shrink’s office to you?” I snapped, leaning
forward. “Last time I checked, you were here to teach me about magic, not
to give me improvised therapy sessions.”
Instead of shooting me a glower, his grimace eased into a soft look.
“When you come face to face with fear, Dustrikke, you don’t hide in a
corner and wait to be rescued. But there’s a problem with your reaction to
fear, because you still think like a human being would. You didn’t use
magic when you were threatened with imminent death.”
“On the contrary,” I corrected him with acidulous irritation. “I used the
Eitrhals.”
“You didn’t use your magic. You should be relying on your gifts, yet
you turned to external resources that happened to be on the sidelines. You
are a necromancer, a damn powerful necromancer, and you must learn how
to think and react like one.”
“Fine, give me the stupid candle.”
Instead of pulling out a candle, he pushed his hands in his uniform’s
pockets, then took a step back. Before my brain could analyze his actions,
my access to Brühl was cut off by a wall of fire.
Actual fire.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, trying to locate Brühl.
The blazing reds, yellows and oranges were too dense, obstructing
everything happening behind them, like a fiery blackout curtain.
“Brühl, what are you doing?”
Silence.
 I slid off the chair and stepped back in an attempt to steady myself, get a
better look of the flames’ width, and possibly extinguish them. Glancing
from left to right, I took in the vivid colors, which kept dancing and
intertwining, no matter how many times I attempted to use the air element.
Dazzling and unyielding, they simply kept burning.
“Extinguish it,” I told myself out loud, trying to make my eitr core
listen.
Extending both arms towards the flames, hands on level with my hips, I
turned my palms to the fiery curtain. I imagined the air element flowing
from my core, running through my fingers, and charging itself at the fire.
The flames twisted in the same rhythmic dance. My air element didn’t
affect them.
Think.
Fire. Fire doesn’t get extinguished with air. It dies down when there isn’t
enough oxygen in the air to maintain it.
I licked my lips and drew in a slow breath, sucking in the air, sucking it
deep into my lungs, sucking it away from the room. The fire didn’t
succumb to my magic.
Think.
Fire. Fire is a separate element. It isn’t dependent on the air element
and oxygen. Maybe it can exist without them.
Think.
Fire. Fight fire with fire.
The wall on my right, which held the door, burst into flames, drawing
all my focus to the sudden blaze of light. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t
real. It was just magic.
My rabid heart repeatedly hit my ribcage, trying to run away from the
flaming barriers. The beating of my pulse clouded my hearing, disrupted
my breathing. Escape. It wanted to escape.
The wall on my left lit up, obstructing every single window from sight.
Three sides. I was standing in a deep, long valley, surrounded from
three sides, and the road directly ahead was a boundless ocean filled with
bloodthirsty Nøkk.
I took a step back. There was no escape. Another step back, and my
body got hit by a fervent wave. It wasn’t warm. It was scorching. Turning, I
came face to face with the same torrid flames which now surrounded me
from all other sides.
 A gurgle. A scraping sound of iron nails being dragged across a rocky
shore. A scream.
I ran, fleeing from the blaze behind me.
The one up front moved closer.
No! This isn’t happening. None of it is real. It’s only magic, just
Elemental magic, and I can fight Elemental magic.
I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to get my thoughts in order, and
immediately regretted it. The loud thumping hits, bashing against my
eardrums, and the frantic jabbing of my heart only grew more deafening
and violent. I curled my hands in fists, pressing them to my torso. Every
breath I took came hard and uneven.
Another wave grazed my spine, this time followed by three others,
coming from each side.
My breathing became even more troubled. I squeezed my eyes so
vigorously, refusing to look at the burning flames, it hurt. It was a sharp sort
of pain, similar to the one crawling over the places where my skin was
exposed to the flames.
I’m not on fire. This is only magic. It doesn’t burn me. It can’t.
My nostrils filled with heated air, burning on the inside the same way
my skin was burning from the outside. I opened my mouth, gasping for a
sip of oxygen, and a scorching drought crept across my tongue, dragging
itself down my throat.
My mouth hurt, like it was dry and chapped and someone had just
forcefully made me stretch it, ripping wounds under dead skin cells.
I ached for fresh air, gagging, chocking, only sucking in more heat.
A whimper escaped my throat, and the movement of my vocal cords
added to the pain. But I couldn’t shut up. The exposed flesh on my hands
and face was set ablaze. Another cry rose in me. It felt like someone was
pouring acid over my skin, eating through the flesh and baring the bones
underneath.
I couldn’t contain myself any longer.
I gave voice to all of it, and with that, I gave into the incinerating fever
that broke out in every inch of my being.

* * *
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a white ceiling. Next
came Brühl’s blurry face. It was the second time I woke up to his grumpy
frown after losing consciousness while being surrounded by fire.
“Wh-what happened?” I asked, trying to push myself up.
My limbs were as heavy as when I woke up with Nøkken poison in my
veins, but this time I was able to command them. Lifting my hands for a
closer examination, I didn’t notice any burn marks.
“Why did you do that?”
“To simulate a similar situation to the one you experienced when being
trapped from all four sides.”
I felt like a tractor had run over me. Maybe that was why I couldn’t get
angry. Or because I knew I should have expected something like this. After
all, he had proposed to suffocate me on purpose once before.
“Why didn’t you use your fire element, Dustrikke?”
“I tried.”
“You didn’t.”
He was right.
“I was about to, right before you set the second wall on fire.”
“Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”
Because I was talking to myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me to stop, Dustrikke?”
I didn’t reply.
“Why didn’t you ask me for help when the pain became intense enough
for you to start screaming?”
I looked away, fixing my gaze on the nearest desk’s metal legs.
“Answer, Dustrikke!”
Slowly, I forced myself to look him directly in the eyes. His aggravated
expression should have enraged me, but my body was too exhausted.
Instead of feeling a familiar rush of anger flow through me, all I felt was
fatigue.
“You wouldn’t have stopped.”
He pulled me on my feet so fast, my head spun, and I swayed to the
side. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to steady me by clasping his hands on
my shoulders, but the weight of his arms nearly knocked me off balance.
“Do you see my point now?” he asked, leaning forward.
You don’t hide in a corner and wait to be rescued.
Maybe, just maybe, I would have asked for help or even begged him to
stop if I knew there was someone else in the room beside him. But there
wasn’t anyone else I could turn to. There was no one there to save me. And
there was no point in fighting his abusive methods, since the Council
clearly approved of them.
“That’s enough for today, Dustrikke.”
He grunted my name instead of saying it in a soothing way. That
statement should have been soothing. It should have been delivered with
something other than a condescending tone, and it should have brought
relief. But it didn’t.
My weary legs miraculously carried me to my bedroom.
* * *

The storm above me perfectly mirrored the relentless ocean.

Its waves raged violently, rapidly, mercilessly. I could feel them jam
against the cliffs, making the rocks beneath me quiver. Stepping backwards,
I stumbled just when the rocks began crumbling with a grotesque roar.
Chunks fell off, hitting the ocean, inciting its rave.
Looking around for help, I realized Monika and Aurora had
disappeared, vanishing without a trace.
And that wasn’t the worst part.
Hard as I tried, I couldn’t step away from the edge. The more I
stumbled backwards, the closer the waterfront came, spitting splashes of
icy, frothy seawater all over me.
A deafening string of gurgling sounds came from under my feet, where
the waves furiously thrashed against the uneven boulders.
No!
I screamed over the roaring nature, but my mouth didn’t produce a
single sound. Why couldn’t I speak?
A hand with elongated membranous fingers, coarsely jagged
fingernails, and shiny, ferric skin emerged behind the nearest gore to grab
the wet rock.
I nervously went through every spell I had read, desperately searching
for one to repel a Nøkken, even though I was deadly positive only Aurora
could cast something powerful enough to keep it at bay.
And Aurora wasn’t here. I was all alone.
“Calm down.”
A familiar husky voice rose against the rumble, outshouting the storm’s
tremors. Dann. He was here? I looked around with anticipation, trying to
locate him, but I didn’t see any hint of another person’s presence. Where
was he?
Dann!
The yell died in my throat before it was even born. I couldn’t see him,
but I had heard him. The guards were probably also here. And guardians.
And other people who could find Monika and Aurora, then bring all of us
back to safety.
Dann!
More silence. Why couldn’t I see him?
Turning back to the sea, I felt like screaming again. The Nøkken had
brought more of its kind. Hundreds of monstrous hands reached from the
thrashing waves, stretching their claws towards me. Those very same claws
had torn through flesh and bone, as if they were made from sharpened steel.
“Learyn, calm down,” the voice spoke again.
DANN!
Another silent scream.
DANN! DAAAAANN!
I frantically ran around the rocks from one boulder to another,
screaming his name at the top of my lungs, but there was no one there to
hear me.
DAAAAANN!
They had murdered Gabriella.
SOMEBODY!
Monika and Aurora had probably met the same fate.
ANYONE! PLEASE!
Now the Nøkk had only one thing left to focus on. Me.
I fled from the cliff, hoping for the safety of solid land, twisting my
neck backwards to make sure I was putting distance between myself and the
bloodthirsty monsters. My own pulse’s pounding intertwined with the sky’s
thunderous strikes, and I couldn’t tell apart my fear from nature’s fury
anymore.
A heartbeat later, I collided with something big.
It got hold of me, and I shrieked, trying to fight it off. My ability to
speak returned in full force. Now my voice pierced my poor eardrums,
which had already been abused by the lashing of my pulse.
“Steady yourself, you’re having a nightmare!”
A familiar voice gave the order, loud and clear.
 “Dann!” I panted, suddenly realizing the thing holding me wasn’t a
monster. “I can’t find Monika and Aurora! Help them! You have to bring
them back before they’re lost like Gabriella!”
“Just close your eyes and breathe in.”
“No!” I broke free from him, searching for the rescue party, for the
presence of guards, for a sign they had brought the girls back before it was
too late.
“Hey, look at me!” He grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to
face him. “Calm down.”
“Where are they?”
“Everyone is safe, back on the island.”
A small wave of reassurance hit me, and a second later I desperately
hurled myself at him, breaking free from his grasp and throwing my arms
around his torso.
“Then get me out of here too, please get me out now! The tide keeps
rising, the Nøkk will–”
“There are no Nøkk,” he interrupted me just as I felt his arms wrapping
around me like a protective shield.
I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, eager to sense the familiar
breezy whiff of air which accompanied Aperture. Every cell in my body
trembled with anticipation for the moment when we’d be away from this
dreadful place.
“You’re dreaming. All of this is simply a nightmare.”
“I… what?”
“Everything is happening only in your head. Breathe in. There are no
Nøkk and you’re safe.”
Instead of feeling him teleport us, I only felt his arms tightening around
my body, and my brain finally caught up with his words. I listened and
inhaled. The wild pumping in my ears wasn’t the thing silencing the
crashing waves, because there were no crashing waves to be silenced. The
ocean had lulled its ruthless bashing, and I couldn’t hear anything apart
from my own heavy breathing.
“Dann…” I trailed off on a sigh.
“Shh, just breathe.”
No storm. No Nøkk. Monika and Aurora were safe. I was safe.
Slowly, my tension alleviated, and my muscles relaxed. His grip
loosened, my heart rate slowed down. I opened my eyes, taking a step back,
only to discover the clouds above his head had cleared, leaving room for
calm, light blue skies, mirroring the ones in his stare.
His hand caught my face, almost cupping my cheek, and prevented me
from looking away. Focused on his eyes, I felt at ease, free of the anxiety
that had taken over me earlier. My breathing normalized. I no longer feared
the freezing chills benumbing my body in the places where my drenched
clothes clung to my skin.
Moments ago, I had longed for the coolness of Aperture’s side effects,
but now I welcomed the soft warmth of his palm and the comforting
reassurance of his gesture.
It was so weird. I had seen him fight with a dozen grown up, combat-
trained men, but his fingers were as light as feathers when they traced my
cheekbone, dropped to my jawline and slid under my chin. The blue
refractions in his eyes grew darker in the shadows of his eyelashes as he
slowly lowered his face and, much to my surprise, his lips pressed to mine.
It was a gentle kiss, and left a strange sensation, like he had taken the most
velvety substance in the world and lightly brushed it against my mouth.
I wasn’t even sure it classified as a kiss.
The touch of his lips was too ethereal, but somehow I could feel their
warmth seeping into every fiber of my being. Pressing his other hand to the
curve of my spine, he drew me closer. His lips moved against mine just as
tenderly as before, and this time I was sure we were really kissing.
I had resented the idea of kissing someone again, but the way his lips
touched mine seemed nothing like my ex-boyfriend’s.
Dann’s kisses felt tender. Soothing. Full of promises of safety, full of
reassurance he wasn’t my ex. And I wasn’t repulsed by this intimacy. On
the contrary. I wanted more of the soothing warmth, so I tiptoed to
overcome our height difference, and put my hands around his neck, trying
to pull him down and keep kissing him.
Some strands of hair softly tickled my fingertips when he lowered his
head and drew away, hiding his face in the hollow of my neck, while his
arms wreathed around me. I was overtaken by a need to oppose his
embrace, turn to the side, and kiss him again.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” his velar whisper echoed in my ear.
His lips placed a kiss on my cheek and remained there for what
paradoxically lasted an eternity and a split of a second at the same time.
 I was so stunned, that I couldn’t care less for what had happened on the
shores of Forsand. I couldn’t think about any of the horrors Brühl had put
me through these past weeks. I couldn’t even think about my uncertain
future. All I could focus on was how he made me feel.
His closeness felt so warm, so gentle, so safe and soothing. I wished I
could stay in the warmth and safety of this exact moment, away from
everything else.
“It’s time for you to wake up.”
And just like that, I was sitting in my bed in the midst of the darkness,
with nothing but Monika’s quiet breathing to fill the silence.
What the fuck had just happened?
A quick glance at my phone’s screen told me it was almost two in the
morning. Rubbing my eyes violently on my way to the window, I couldn’t
shake off a nasty sensation, which whispered I was insane. How could I
have had a romantic dream with Dann? How could I? Why did I? Pushing
the blackout curtains away, I opened the window, inhaled the crisp, cool air,
and stared at the glowing sky, illuminated by the colorful northern lights.
Aurora Borealis.
Aurora.
She had told me to stay away from Dann. She thought I was fooling
around with her brother, and it was about time for him to throw me away
with the rest of his insipid playthings. Of course! That had to be the reason.
My subconsciousness had somehow spun those words and twisted them
into something unrealistic.
Maybe it was because he was there when I woke up after the Nøkken’s
poison had made me faint. His unexpected presence was still stuck in my
mind on some sub-level. And his kindness. His kindness had been one of
the few genuine things in this place. I was affected by Monika’s betrayal, I
was haunted by the Nøkk, and Brühl had just pushed my limits to a whole
new level. My mind had decided to cling to the only truly good person who
still hadn’t hurt or disappointed me.
No, it was more than that. I had seen him fighting with the guards and
heard his explanations about how he wanted everyone here to be safe and
secure. I wasn’t clinging only to his kindheartedness, but also to the sense
of safety he evoked.
But still, why would I dream that?
 I bit my lips. All Nordstrøm family members were Wanderers. One of
Freya’s gifts to them was the ability to Wander into other people’s dreams.
Was he in my dream for real, kissing me for real?
That was fucking absurd! He was Dann Nordstrøm!
I was sure there was a line of girls piling in front of him. With that
often-messy blond hair, piercing blue eyes and a set of dimples carved in
both cheeks, he definitely had a bunch of supermodels’ phone numbers.
And he seemed to be excellent at everything – martial arts, teaching, music,
being modest, grasping my sarcasm and cynicism, dealing with my anger,
Heimir’s racist outbursts… FML! The guy played the piano and read
poetry! His Excellency definitely could have had a different girl for every
night of the week if he wanted to. It made no sense for him to spend his
nights visiting my dreams.
My subconsciousness was in some serious need of a reality check.
Trying to shake it off, I dressed quietly and headed for the library. I
didn’t stumble on any guards along the way, and it only raised my hopes.
Sadly, my wishful thinking got the reality check my subconsciousness
needed, because I spoke the word Amyria in front of every single book case,
and got no results. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Again, and again. I
obviously had to wait for my aunt’s call to ask her.
The break of dawn was starting to fill the library with a soft pinkish
glow, coming from the nine humongous windows. I returned to my room,
looking for my phone.
“Good morning,” Monika greeted me from her bed.
Irritated and frustrated, courtesy of my failure in the library and my
delusional dream, I couldn’t keep pretending things were going to get better
with time.
“I’m switching rooms, Monika.”
“What? No, please!”
“I can’t do this anymore. I’ll ask Administration for a new room today.”
“Learyn, please don’t. I’m so sorry for everything!”
“Don’t you get it?” I spun around to face her. “I can’t stand being in the
same room as you anymore! No amount of I’m-sorrys is going to fix what
happened! The Nøkk, that girl’s death, the Council’s lies, all of your lies!
Nothing can fix any of it!”
She seemed on the verge of replying, but when her mouth opened and
closed without producing a sound, I turned the other way to grab my phone.
 “I’ll leave.”
Her words were no more than a whisper.
“Don’t be absurd, Monika, it’s your room.”
“It’s our room,” she mumbled, “and I have to leave for my mundane
studies anyway. I’ll come back tomorrow morning to grab some stuff and
probably won’t be back for a week or two, so you don’t have to worry about
seeing me all the time.”
Sighing with annoyance, I paused at the door.
“If you think I’ll forgive and forget overnight, don’t count on it. I told
you, nothing can fix this.”
What I really wanted to say was that I’d had it with people’s bullshit to
such an extent, nothing could fix me, but that would have meant believing
in her lies had been my fault instead of hers.
Happy twenty-first birthday, Learyn, I thought to myself. You’ve got a
hundred and eighty more, but you’ve already managed to turn your life into
a complete fucking mess.
 

Lacrimosa Arcana
The call I expected never came. Clutching my phone and glancing at its
screen, I checked for the hundredth time. My signal bars were full, I had
paid my phone bill online, the sound and vibrations were on. There was no
reason why the phone hadn’t buzzed to life even once.
What was more, when I dialed my aunt’s number, finally tired of
waiting for her, all I got was her voicemail. Again.
My impatience grew thinner with each passing hour, and at noon I ran
to Administration’s office, asking Raisa Kuoppala for a way to get off the
island.
“Miss Dustrikke, you need permission from the Council.”
The first time I’d seen this woman, she’d taken my blood without
asking me for permission. Now she was telling me I needed permission
from His Excellency and the eight ancient mummies?
“What am I, a prisoner? Are they gonna lock their precious Dustrikke in
a tower?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Dustrikke, but I’ve been instructed to inform the
Council if you attempt to leave Nordstrøm Island, and you cannot leave
without their explicit permission.”
She scribbled on a piece of paper, then took out something short, thin
and pointy – a dagger of some sort – and used it to slice her index finger.
My eyes widened as she pressed her bleeding finger to the paper, which
disappeared into a cloud of black smoke, broken up by emerald green
sparks. Did she always use these creepy blood messages? Wasn’t it just
easier to pick up a phone?
 Before I could say something, another eruption of black smoke spun
between us, and the sheet of paper reappeared.
“The Council can see you tonight.”
“When?”
“At nine.”
“Can’t they see me sooner?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Fine,” I clenched my jaw and rushed for the door, before remembering
something. “I don’t know how to get to the Council’s meeting room or
whatever that room on the ninth floor is. Can you maybe give me
directions? Please?”
She smiled. “I’ll write them down for you.”
“Thanks. I also want to request a new room, preferably without a
roommate.”
I kept telling myself all sorts of stories throughout the rest of the day,
guessing why my aunt hadn’t called me yet.
She had fallen down the stairs in our house, broken a hipbone or twisted
a spinal cord, was hospitalized, and couldn’t get to her phone. She was on
vacation on some sunny resort, her phone had accidentally gotten wet, and
she still hadn’t bought a new one. She was vacationing on a wintery resort,
and had lost her phone in the snow. She was still in San Francisco, and
someone had stolen the phone.
But with each scenario, one particular thought kept returning again and
again. She would have reached out today. Regardless of how badly I had
reacted to her revelations and how hurtful my attitude had been to her, she
would have called me.
Finally, when evening came, I shot myself up the stairs, taking a few at
once, and breathlessly barged into the Council’s meeting room.
“Good evening, Miss Dustrikke,” Hallvard greeted, scanning something
high above my head, avoiding eye contact. Typical.
“I… leave… now…”
Everyone remained silent until I regained my breath. Once my lungs
functioned properly, my eyes landed on Dann. His expressionless mask was
on, as impenetrable as before. I was suddenly overtaken by mortifying
embarrassment as I remembered my stupid dream with that kiss.
Reality check, I told myself, peeling my eyes off him and glancing at his
uncle.
 “I want to leave the island. Please get someone to Aperture me to San
Francisco right now.”
“Does this have something to do with the events which took place near
Forsand?” Hallvard asked, still not looking at me.
“What? No, I want to…”
The mention of Forsand immediately drew out the shrieking from the
back of my mind. Along with the scraping and the gurgling, the memories
pushed my anxiety to a whole new level. Messing with my brain and
common sense, they screwed up my priorities.
“What does Marked by Amyria mean? The Nøkk attacked that girl only
after one of them called me that and tried to drag me in the water.”
Silence.
Dann had said he didn’t know. But instead of repeating his words, his
uncle kept staring at the empty space above my head. Was his silence an
indicator that he withheld answers on purpose?
“I’m sorry about it, I really am. If I could have done something to
prevent it from happening, I would have. The guilt and nightmares are
eating me every single day. And the fact the Nøkk attacked only after they
told me I was marked by this Amyria person, makes it even worse. Please
tell me. Not knowing what it means makes it seem like that girl died for
nothing!”
More silence. I glanced at Hallvard’s left side, looking at Dann, but his
eyes were set on his uncle, who was still refusing to speak.
“Please!” I begged once again, taking a step forward.
It seemed to do the trick, because even though Hallvard didn’t make eye
contact with me, he spoke. “Nøkken nonsense. Fables of dangerous
creatures you should not concern yourself with.”
“They tried to murder us over fables?” I asked, refusing to believe there
wasn’t more to it.
“End of discussion, Miss Dustrikke.”
“Fine!” I spat out the word, taking another step towards the long
wooden table and the people sitting behind it. “I want to leave for San
Francisco. Now.”
“You are interdicted from leaving the island.”
“What?” I asked, moving closer.
The guy was still refusing to look at me.
“You are forbidden from leaving this island until further notice.”
 “Until further notice? Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”
“Please mind your language.”
My irritation meter was so freaking high up, I was about to combust any
moment. Language was the last thing I gave a rat’s ass about.
“Oh, okay, I’m sorry. Let’s take this entire conversation from the top.
Hi, my name is Learyn Dustrikke and I have a problem with authority.
Don’t make me dig my way through a wall until I reach a narrow
ventilation shaft.”
I had spent my entire life a few miles away from Alcatraz. As any true
born-and-bred San Franciscan, I knew how the escape from the most secure
federal prison that ever existed was carried out. Not that I wanted to carve a
hole in the castle’s walls with a spoon, crawl through a ventilation shaft,
then swim my way out to Stavanger. Especially because I was sure the
walls here weren’t made of Alcatraz’s crumbling concrete. But desperate
times called for desperate measures, right?
The whole room had grown silent. Just as I thought at least one Council
member would have a change of heart, Dann spoke.
“The ventilation shafts won’t lead you to an escape route.”
If His Excellency thought he was being helpful, I sincerely hoped I
never had to rely on him for something as intrinsic as breaking out of
captivity.
“And what if I need to go shopping?” I decided to play the female card.
“You’ll force me to shop for clothes online, and go through my underwear
delivery to make sure I’m not using bra pads to smuggle something new
that will endanger lives?”
As soon as I finished the sentence, I imagined Hallvard Nordstrøm’s
shriveled face in my underwear drawer. My body contracted with shudders
of disgust. Did I have to open my big mouth? Now there was no fucking
way I could ever un-see that mental picture.
Since no one bothered to answer my biting remarks, I decided to take a
different course of action and speak the truth.
“Will someone at least tell me why I’m not allowed to leave? If this was
Aurora or Monika, they wouldn’t have to beg for a free pass, regardless of
the incident with the Nøkk. Look, all I want is to go visit my aunt for a day
or two; not to get myself or anyone in trouble. I promise.”
“We cannot let you on the loose. Our decision is final.”
 “Let me on the loose? Considering how deadly the Nøkken accident
was, I’m not going to run off to sunbathe on a Norwegian beach! Please, let
me leave for a day. I’ll go straight to San Francisco and then come back
here. I haven’t been able to reach my aunt over the phone these past few
days, and I need to see her. Please! I’m worried. Even if she’s just lost her
phone and gotten a new number, she knows mine by heart. She would have
called me today. It’s my twenty-first birthday.”
No one seemed to give a damn about the vexation in my voice.
Apparently, I had to explain how close I’d been with the only living relative
I still had. Or at least I had been close with her, up until she revealed my
entire life had been a lie.
As I was about to start pleading like I had never done before, Dann
spoke again. “Learyn, your aunt is lost.”
“What do you mean by lost?”
“Adaline Dustrikke is dead,” Monika’s mom took over.
“I normally appreciate dark humor, but this is so not the time for it. Let
me go see her. Please! You can even appoint guards to accompany me for
the trip if you want to.”
“This isn’t a joke,” Hallvard joined in on the crazy wagon.
“Oh, come ooon!” I groaned. “If you’re going to give me hell for
everything I’ve pulled so far, at least don’t use my aunt when doing it!”
“We are serious, Miss Dustrikke.”
He definitely appeared to be serious. Then again, when you were a two-
hundred-year-old mummy, there were few expressions you could produce
without pulling a facial muscle.
Johanna Larsen took over before I came up with another remark. “We
had suspicions when we lost touch with her in November, approximately
three weeks after your arrival.”
“Well, you lost touch with her eight years ago, and she wasn’t dead then
either!”
“What happened back then was a deliberate effort on your family’s end
to keep hiding you by making everyone believe your branch of the
Dustrikke bloodline had ceased to exist. This time, Adaline was honest with
me.”
“Yeah, right! What makes you think she’s not hiding again?”
“She was indeed hiding in November, but not from us. We
communicated with her every day.”
 “Hiding from what?” I asked Johanna Larsen the same old million-
dollar question.
“We have a reason to believe it could be the same thing that took the
lives of your other relatives.”
“What other relatives?”
“Doran and Edor Dustrikke, your third cousins, four times removed
from your father’s side of the family.”
I’d seen those names on a family tree. One of them was born in the late
nineteenth century, while the other was born in the Roaring Twenties.
“I traced my family tree in the library, and they were alive just a… a…”
A few weeks ago, I concluded silently. Before the Council lost touch with
my aunt. “But that means my aunt and I are… We’re…”
“Precisely,” Monika’s mother noted, interrupting my stutter. “You are
the last remaining descendant of the Dustrikke bloodline.”
“Descendants! Plural.”
“Adaline Dustrikke is lost.”
I threw my hands in the air, vexing with frustration.
“Stop saying that! Just because she hasn’t Skyped you or sent you blood
messages, or whatever, it doesn’t mean she’s dead!”
But Mrs. Larsen was relentless in her crazy theory.
“Miss Dustrikke, we have proof you are the last one bearing the
Dustrikke name. I personally sought audience with our goddess Freya of the
Vanir. She confirmed the souls of Doran and Edor Dustrikke to be within
her plains in Asgard.”
“What killed them?”
“They sacrificed themselves, thus preventing the loss of more lives.”
“What the hell does that even mean, apart from suicide?”
“There has been an otherworldly shadow cast upon Midgard since time
immemorial, Miss Dustrikke. You need not concern yourself with it. You
are perfectly safe within the bounds of this island.”
“And my aunt? Why couldn’t she come to Norway when she sent me
here? Couldn’t you offer her protection? What about now? Can’t you offer
her protection now?”
“Adaline Dustrikke is no longer in this realm. The goddess confirmed it
herself.”
The fuck? My aunt wasn’t in Midgard? She wasn’t on this planet?
“Well, can you bring her back to Midgard?”
 “Please try to understand your aunt is dead, Miss Dustrikke. Whilst her
soul and spirit are lost to us, we assure you, her corporeal remains rest in
safety.”
Soul and spirit are lost… Corporeal remains…
My eyes landed on Dann’s sullen gaze and the silent, but unmistakable
confirmation it held.
I stumbled backwards, distancing myself from the nine Council
members. Her corporeal remains meant her… her… I choked on the word
corpse even as I thought about it. Her soul and spirit were lost to
necromancers. A man is not dead unless his soul is lost. And hers was. To
them, and to our maker.
My heart dropped in my stomach. A stinging, cold sensation took over
the empty hole where my most vital organ was supposed to be. Frostbite.
First it settled into my ribcage, then it spread across the rest of my body.
I felt dizzy, and instinctively closed my eyes.
When I opened them, my legs bent and I fell, hitting something hard
and uneven. Stairs. I was sitting in the middle of a staircase.
I screamed.
I screamed for each time I had wanted to punch something or someone,
but had kept holding back. I screamed for the incandescence of my wrath,
for the blazing agony of my heartache, for the burning acid of my
disappointment, for the flaming reds of my embarrassment, for the fervent
aching of the lies.
All of these fucking lies. The ones I told myself, the ones I told
everyone else, and the ones which came from the people I had allowed to
get close to me.
And then I kept screaming.
I didn’t know when every cell in my being had stopped screaming from
rage and started screaming from pain. I didn’t even know when my way to
the corridor on the bottom of the staircase was cut off by a line of blazing
flames. I didn’t know where I was, how I had teleported, or where Aperture
had taken me. I didn’t know how much time had passed.
At some point, my body felt sore. My vocal cords were ripped out of
my throat. The air was sucked out of my lungs. I crawled to the nearest
wall, pressed my temple against the cold stone, and pulled out my phone.
Now I knew the reason why it hadn’t buzzed to life. Because the one
who was supposed to ring, was dead.
 My fingers dialed her number.
“Hello, you’ve reached Addie. I can’t pick up right now.”
The beep sound followed. I didn’t know what to say. All I wanted was
to hear her voice, so I disconnected, then redialed.
“Hello, you’ve reached Addie. I can’t pick up right now.”
My thumb touched the red circle after the beep and redialed again.
“Hello, you’ve reached Addie. I can’t pick up right now.”
I kept doing the same thing over and over until the operator tuned in,
replacing my aunt’s pre-recorded message, and announced the voicemail’s
inbox was full.
Disconnecting one final time, I put the phone in my pocket. It was as
useless as my magic.
I was supposed to be a necromancer. Necromancers could live for two
hundred years and bring their beloved ones back from the dead.
Necromancers were supposed to rule over death. Necromancers were
supposed to possess the gift of life.
But apparently none of it mattered. Necromancy was useless, because it
couldn’t bring back my family.
I couldn’t stay on this island any longer. Staring blankly into the
nothingness, I became more and more convinced there was no place for me
here.
I had nowhere to go, no idea what to do, but I had to leave.
And do what? I was literally back to square one. No, not one, but zero.
Zero chance of staying sane and not losing my shit for more than a second
at a time. Zero chance of living up to the expectations of being a great
Dustrikke necromancer, because necromancers were useless anyway. Zero
chance of seeing my aunt and apologizing for the childish bitch I had been
to her on that stupid November night.
Hey, at least you have nothing more to lose, so what’s the worst that
could happen from now on?
I laughed drily. My sick sense of humor had kicked in.
A set of approaching footsteps pulled me out of my lethargy. Someone
was walking down the corridor on the staircase’s lower end.
The flames had simmered down. They weren’t high and thick enough,
and I could make out Dann’s familiar face. How had he found me? And
why hadn’t he done it sooner? Like when I had been screaming with such
rage, the flames could have burned him to a cinder? He would have
deserved it for hiding the truth, like every other Council member.
“Go away!” I hissed.
He approached the bottom of the stairs. I growled out the air in my
lungs, and the flames grew to a thicker, denser barrier.
“Get the fuck away from me!”
“I’m sorry you had to learn this way. It was safer for you to remain in
the dark.”
“You’ve known this entire time, haven’t you?” I screamed, but what
came out of my throat was something hoarse, barely echoing over the
flames. “I trusted you, and you kept the truth from me, like the rest of those
heartless… heartless…”
I couldn’t even finish, shocked from the way my flames were parting,
making way for him. What the actual fuck? What was he doing to my fire
element? How was he doing it? That was impossible!
“Wha–”
I panted, unable to catch my breath. He stepped in the opening. I
gathered every ounce of energy in my being, begging my core, my magic
and my Eitrhals to bring back the coldness of Aperture.
Nothing happened.
I bolted for the upper landing, but made only a few steps before he
caught up, throwing his arms around me.
“Let me go!”
I barely had the strength to find my voice, but I tried to push him away
again and again, each time to no avail. His arms just tightened. I finally
gave in, breaking in tears like the helpless little girl I had been all along.
He dropped on the stairs, and the last of my walls crumbled and literally
fell with him. His body took in my convulsions as I kept crying, tugged
neatly in his arms like a fucking baby. That’s exactly what I was. Just a
grown baby, who was trying to stop acting like a kid, who had lost everyone
and everything, while the world expected me to live up to a famous family’s
name. I was nothing but a failure. A failure who didn’t belong anywhere –
not here, not in San Francisco, and most definitely not in the Dustrikke
family tree.
Who had I been kidding? I couldn’t even fool myself anymore, let alone
pretend for the sake of not appearing weak and broken in front of others. I
had no place in this castle, in this country, even on this continent.
 “I-I can’t… t-teleport. Let me g-go. I n-need to leave.”
“You can’t leave.”
His uneven whisper didn’t sound like the harsh command I expected.
“Why? B-because I’m the last D-Dustrikke? I’m un-unworthy for that
n-name!”
“You’re more precious and powerful than you think.”
Pfft! Yeah, sure! It couldn’t be true. I made a mess out of everything,
and I most definitely wasn’t some magical prodigy who exceeded at being a
Class Five necromancer.
“M-my family was… but t-they’re dead now. All of t-them. Like t-that
girl. The g-guards. T-the swallow. Everyone around me d-dies!”
He pushed one of his hands into my hair, keeping the other wrapped
around me. My anger made way to confusion. Why was he doing that? Why
was he comforting me? I didn’t deserve it.
“I d-didn’t even tell her I’m s-sorry. I-I started a f-fucking fight with h-
her and n-now it’s too late!”
He didn’t say anything, just kept taking in my convulsions, showing me
kindness and sympathy. I was nothing more than a rule-breaker with a short
fuse, a sailor’s mouth and a bull-headed attitude. I didn’t deserve to be
comforted. Not by him, not by anyone. Not when I did my best to fuck
everything up and push people away. And behind all of my sarcasm, rage
and snappy remarks, I knew it was the truth.
I knew it, and it crushed me.
“D-Dann, how d-do you tell s-someone you’re s-sorry when they’re
dead a-and it’s too late? It’s s-so fucking late now! Why d-do people even s-
say sorry, when sorry doesn’t c-cut it? It’s n-not nearly enough! It’s j-just a
s-stupid word! It’s n-not enough!”
His arms wreathed around my waist and shoulders, and he cradled me
while I buried my face in his shoulder, trying to hide my despair. Hiding it
was pointless, since it was already pouring from my words and actions.
“When I was fifteen, I lost both of my parents. They took me and my
sister on vacation in France for the summer. Varg werewolves working for a
coven of casters sniffed us out, attacked us and tore them open, so the
casters could extract their souls’ eitr essence.”
I gasped at his sudden revelation, and his embrace immediately
tightened.
 “I accidentally Apertured myself and Aurora back home, completely out
of fear. It was the first time I did it, and I couldn’t do it again for a while, no
matter how hard I tried or how many Aperture teachers oversaw my
attempts. Aurora had it worse. She couldn’t speak for months, regardless of
the Healers and sorcerers we called in. Similarly to you, my sister and I
were expected to do great things because we bear the name Nordstrøm.
Nobody seemed to notice we were merely a couple of scared children, who
had just seen their parents get brutally murdered.”
So, that’s why he had said he had an idea of what I might be going
through after that questionnaire.
I sighed and managed to pull back a little bit, finally able to actually
look him in the eyes. Through the prism of my tears, he wasn’t Dann
Nordstrøm, the excellent lecturer, or Dann Nordstrøm, the guy who fought
with trained guards. He wasn’t Dann Nordstrøm, the Snobbish Dick, or
Dann Nordstrøm, the Council member with whom those ancients consulted.
He was just Dann, simply Dann, and I saw in him the ghost of a broken
boy who had endured more crap than his exterior ever showed.
“But… we’re necromancers.” My voice came out so quiet, I wondered
if I had indeed spoken. “It-it shouldn’t be like this.”
“We’re not invincible, and there are many ways to take a life
irrevocably.”
He didn’t say it in that amiable, preceptorial and instructive tone he
used during lectures. He just sounded… woeful.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, wishing there was something more I could say.
I was sorry about his parents, I was sorry for trying to run away, I was
sorry for him seeing me cry. Most of all, I was sorry he had to sit here,
comforting me, instead of dealing with important things.
“Unkindly enough, we seem to forget what it’s like to be human, even if
it’s merely a small part of us.”
He lifted a hand and slowly brushed his fingers over my cheek, erasing
a new tear that had just escaped my eyes. The warmth of his skin and the
kind gesture felt soothing and calming, helping me bite back another tear.
“That’s why I gave you the Svipdagsmál poems, so you’d see how even
in fiction, magic and necromancy don’t equal a carefree life without
hardships and sorrow. And I also thought you’d relate to Svipdag.”
Silently, I closed my eyes and lowered my head in an attempt to hide
my feelings.
 For nearly a year, I had secretly wished for someone genuinely kind,
good and compassionate to see what no one else saw. To see something in
me that was… worth it. I had wished it so badly, but then again, I had tried
to hide it even from myself out of fear of seeking someone’s approval. I had
already disappointed everyone, including myself, too many times.
“Learyn, don’t look away. You’re capable of more than you’re giving
yourself credit for. Your power doesn’t come just from your ancestors. It
also comes from your heart.”
Wow. Like, really wow! Did he seriously think that of me?
Right on cue, as if I had voiced my thoughts, he caught my face,
prompting me to open my eyes. It was impossible for me to peel my eyes
off him, even if I wanted to. Because the reassuring look he gave me almost
made me believe it, believe in his words, believe in myself.
He looked at me the way no one before him had ever done. He looked at
me the way I secretly wanted to be looked at. Long ago, in those times
when I had asked myself if I was the worst person on the planet, when
every friendly and romantic relationship in my life always ended miserably.
He looked at me like I wasn’t the reason for this misery. He looked at me
like I didn’t deserve to be looked at. Like there really was something more
to me than vulgar outbursts and a string of failures.
Or maybe it was plain pity. Maybe he only comforted me because he
took the safety of everyone in his castle too seriously. Maybe he was only
trying to…
“You’re so breathtakingly beautiful, even when you’re heartbroken,” he
whispered quietly, with fingers still clinging to my skin.
Taken aback by his words, I watched him as he breathed in, and the first
thought shooting through my head was of that dream. Once again, I
wondered how a person capable of sparring with a dozen men could also be
capable of such gentleness.
He wiped the leftover tears from my face before the tip of his thumb
brushed over my lower lip. Overwhelmed by his delicate tenderness, I
instinctively closed my eyes just like in my dream, and the two sensations
his touch left in me enhanced. Warmth and safety. Not daring to make the
slightest movement, I relished into a fraction of eternity, fully sinking into it
for as long as it lasted.
I didn’t realize when he moved, but the moment he withdrew his thumb,
his lips took its place. Their velvety softness was much like what I had
experienced in my dream. As tender as I remembered them, they stroked
mine cautiously and slowly, as if he was careful not to make a rash motion
that would break me even further.
His attentive approach surprised me, and I didn’t pull back when his lips
slightly parted from mine.
But he didn’t kiss me again. He didn’t move at all. I could tell he was
holding his breath, but I couldn’t understand why he was standing still. Was
he giving me time? Distance? Was he waiting for a reaction? For
confirmation I wouldn’t try to run like earlier?
I was too scared to open my eyes and ruin this strange moment which
had made me forget about everything else, so I remained motionless,
speechless, submerged into my thoughts.
He had kissed me. He had really kissed me. And I couldn’t pull away.
I hadn’t imagined it would be possible for me not to get repulsed by the
thought of having someone kiss me again. I hadn’t imagined I could feel
this… this natural, normal, comfortable in such an intimate moment with
someone in the near future. My ex had made me resent, even dread, the idea
of having this type of closeness and vulnerability with another living being.
But what I felt now wasn’t vulnerability.
I felt warmth and soothing solace. Dann was caring, considerate. He
evoked trust and confidence, even in my subconsciousness, even in my
dreams. All these factors somehow made my uncertainties and insecurities
about physical closeness flee from my mind, leaving no traces behind, as if
they had never been there to begin with.
Before I fully understood my actions, my hand blindly touched his face.
His skin was warm and smooth, with hints of a clean shave below the slight
crease nestled under his cheekbone. A few strands of hair tickled my fingers
when I moved them up, and he inhaled sharply, but didn’t draw back. While
he stood still, I thought about kissing him. Not even a whiff of my familiar
repulsion manifested.
I made up my mind and decided to take the plunge. Slowly tilting my
head, I shortened those few inches between us, and my lips met his. I tasted
the residual saltiness from my tears. He probably tasted it too, but he didn’t
seem to mind.
And as he kissed me back, I was certain of one thing – I liked it.
His hand slipped over my own, tracing its length from the outside of my
wrist to my elbow, making my skin tingle with soft shivers, then carried
down to my waist.
Surrendering myself to the physical closeness I used to be so afraid of, I
let him snuggle me tightly in his embrace, without trying to push him away.
It wasn’t strange anymore. All of it – every parting of his lips and every kiss
we shared, the way he held me and the way our bodies were pressed
together – all of it felt good.
His arms kept wreathing around me like a protective ring, pushing my
past away, keeping it out of reach, hiding me within his warm and
reassuring caress, and it seemed like the safest and coziest place to be.
I was weightless and secure, and everything outside the wreath of his
arms didn’t matter.
My notion of time drifted away. I had no clue how long we sat on the
stairs, embracing and kissing, but all of a sudden, his mouth came to a stop
at the corner of mine, and he pulled back. When I opened my eyes to meet
his in confusion, a frenzied wave of disorientation hit me, rendering me
completely out of balance. The way those pale blue eyes pierced me clashed
with the way his kisses had melted me, and I realized I had never seen, nor
felt, a more beautiful paradox in my entire life.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
He whispered the same words from my dream. Down to the last
syllable. My eyes widened as some tiny part of my brain started working
again.
“I, umm… didn’t mind it,” I admitted quietly.
“How vapid would it be, if the truth slipped me, and I told you of
dooms and cursed fates, written in the stars?”
I blinked sheepishly. “Are you reciting poetry again?”
He slowly shook his head.
“Of course you’d think so. Your heart is buried under anger and
acrimony; shielded by the storms you unleash on everyone who tries to get
close to you. But sometimes the storm passes, and the perfect rainy
afternoon unfolds, bringing rays of hope and sunlight in its wake.”
Was I really so transparent to him? And why was he speaking of hope?
His fingers traveled into my hair, caressing the back of my neck, but the
words that followed next lacked warmth and tenderness.
“Before I say something more reckless, you should get back to your
room.”
 Ouch! Reality came crashing down, ruthlessly dumping the full-blown
realization of what had just happened over my scattered thoughts. I wasn’t
dreaming. Dann had kissed me. I had kissed him back. And neither of us
should have done it. He was my lecturer, for fuck’s sake!
Shaken by the aftertaste of his kisses, the shivers still lingering in my
body and the freezing chills reality had brought in, I couldn’t say anything.
Despite both of us remaining silent while walking down the corridors, my
head was exploding with questions.
What the hell had just happened? Were my dreams prophetic? Could I
predict the future? Or had he Wandered into them? Why had he kissed me?
Did he really think I was beautiful? Was there some truth to what Aurora
said about his insipid playthings? Was I one of them?
I wasn’t sure which question to ask first. By the time I picked one, we
had already reached the third floor. It was early morning. Monika was in the
hallway, sitting on the ground with her back leaning against our bedroom’s
door. There was a small suitcase on wheels parked next to the door frame.
With one quick “Good night, ladies,” Dann walked away. I had been too
busy overthinking in my head, and now it was too late to ask him anything.
Perfect. Fucking perfect! Now I had to deal with this and with Monika.
“Happy belated birthday.”
I didn’t bother replying. All of it was too much for me right now.
“Learyn, I’m so sorry about everything.”
Did everything include my aunt? If Monika knew about her death, it
only made her a bigger liar.
Walking right past her, I opened the door. Before I could
unceremoniously shut it in her face, she slipped inside the room.
“Have you been crying?”
I scoffed and jumped on my bed, looking the other way in an attempt to
hide my face. She obviously wasn’t one to take a hint.
“Please talk to me!”
“Why would I want to talk to you when all you have to say is another
pile of lies?” I asked quietly, still not facing her.
“Because you look like you need a friend.”
“I’m a fucking necromancer, Monika! If I want a friend, I’ll just head
for the nearest graveyard and make a bunch of friends.”
“I’m not some mindless robot that’s been put here to protect you!” She
nearly cried out, frustration seeping from every syllable. “Yes, I come from
a family of guardians, and yes, that’s why they made you my roommate, but
it doesn’t mean I’m not your friend!”
“Fine, prove it.”
She didn’t reply. I finally looked at her. The guilt in her words was
crystal clear, fully replicated on her expression.
“Prove you’re not some mindless robot who’s been following the
Council’s orders.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Maybe start with the Marked by Amyria subject? Who is
Amyria?”
“I have no idea.”
“Let’s say I believe you, at least about that. You don’t know, but
someone else has to. I already checked every bookcase in the library, then
directly asked the high and mighty. Twice. Guess what? Dann says he
doesn’t know, while Hallvard is pretending it’s some Nøkken nonsense.”
Bewilderment settled on her face. “Are you saying I can make them
hand over intel on Amyria?”
“Try asking them nicely. Swearing didn’t work well with me.”
“I already asked my mother, and she said she doesn’t know.”
“Have you tried asking the other Council members?”
“If they think it’s nonsense and don’t want to talk about it, we should
respect their decision.”
She said it like the idea of going against them was scandalous.
Apparently, she wasn’t going to try asking on my behalf. Once again, I was
left to my own devices.
Bad things happened when I was left to my own devices.
“Monika, I’m fluent in eight programming languages, so don’t make me
go Gary McKinnon on their ass!”
“Who?”
How could she have not heard of the guy? “He hacked NASA’s
systems.”
“A hacker? You want to hack into their computers? Are you crazy? The
whole island is protected by magic! Everything here – computers included –
is subjected to wards and enchantments. No offense, but as an
inexperienced novice, you can’t even neutralize the wards to open Raisa’s
Administration files, let alone find some top-secret information about
something even my mother hasn’t heard of.”
 That just gave me an idea.
“You’re right,” I declared, shrugging innocently, walked to the door,
opened it wide and made an unambiguous motion for her to get out. “An
inexperienced novice can’t do anything about it.”
She rushed to grab my arm.
“Oh, no, I know that look! Learyn, please don’t–”
“Go take a nice long sauna in fucking Muspelheim, Monika!” I snarled,
yanked back my limb and pushed her through the door. I wanted to tell her
to go burn in hell, but in our world, hell was a notoriously flexible term.
“You’ll get yourself in trouble,” she insisted, but my decision was
already final.
“And don’t forget to drink plenty of water!” I added, slamming the door
in her face.
To hell with Monika!
And to hell with Dann Nordstrøm! I had other issues apart from dealing
with the fact that my sort-of-teacher had kissed me and I had kissed him
back. The Council members’ decision to keep their mouths shut was a
bigger pain in my neck, especially because they’d been keeping my aunt’s
death from me. They were also withholding the truth about Amyria, or at
least Hallvard was, and I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
They didn’t want to tell me anything? Fine. Monika didn’t want to ask
them? Fine. They had magical wards, spells and protections? Fine.
But me being just an inexperienced novice, who couldn’t even open
Administration’s files? Inexperienced, my ass!
For as long as I could remember, my sight had been set on becoming a
White Hat security expert. I had ventured into studying online security long
before I decided to focus on software development.
There wasn’t a single computer in this castle I couldn’t hack into with
the right kit. And since I was pretty damn sure an invasive attack would
potentially raise flags if it targeted the wrong computer, I was about to do
things the old-fashioned way. The formula was simple – storm over the
router and let it spread encrypted backdoors to all connected devices in a
zombie chain reaction. First, I would start with the first floor router, which
supplied Wi-Fi to Administration, then I would move to the ninth floor,
which probably supplied the Council’s lair.
They didn’t want me to raise soulless Draugar zombies in their world?
Well, they were about to get a firsthand experience at what zombies meant
in my world!
I dug out my laptop and checked the available Wi-Fi hotspots. The one
called FloorLevel1 was in reach. Glancing at the digital clock on the screen,
I stretched my fingers. It was almost six in the morning. Flash forward a
few minutes and one lengthy code later, and I had sent a packet injection to
the first floor Internet router. There was a single active device’s MAC
address in it. If only one person was connected to the router on that floor
level so early, it had to be Administration’s computer. I didn’t even have to
wait!
Why hadn’t I thought about it earlier? Raisa, the nice old lady at
Administration, surely didn’t expect cyberattacks anytime soon, not when
the real threats in a place like this would be purely physical. Or magical, but
that still counted as physical.
On the bright side, as long as Administration’s computer kept running, I
was good to go. Due to the packet injection’s encryption, nobody was going
to be able to tell another device was “illegally” hooked onto the same
connection.
On the not-so-bright side, I was a little rusty for the next step. Well,
okay, quite rusty. I hadn’t programmed this type of code without an engine
kit for years. If I had at least a backdoor kit, I could have sped up the
process tremendously. However, downloading one from the web could have
tipped off some firewalls, regardless of my VPN router and connection.
Besides, Norway, like most countries, probably blocked access to “source”
sites, which even my VPN couldn’t overpower.
So, I thoroughly revised some old memories from a long-gone period in
my teens. Then I got to work, staying focused on coding, rather than
thinking about how I had lost everyone I cared about.
* * *
It took me several cups of coffee and more than eight hours, but I had
finally written the code from scratch, encrypted the little bug, and granted
myself unlimited access to everything in Raisa’s computer.
“Object code backdoor, baby.” I smirked at the screen with self-
satisfaction. “Good luck detecting that one with your daily antivirus scan.”
I stood up to make myself another cup of coffee. If there was a reason to
be thankful for Monika’s existence, it was her decision to leave the coffee
machine here.
 Waiting for the cup to fill, I wondered what information Raisa’s
computer held. What was in those Administration files Monika mentioned?
Was it Amyria? And did they have a file on me? Could I find the answers to
all my questions about the unnamed powers endangering my existence?
Or was I just going to find a boring document with my date of birth,
address, a photo and a short notes section that read She swears a lot?
I aimlessly wandered around Administration’s folders for a while, until
my eyes found a Learyn Dustrikke label. So, they really had a file on me!
“Time to reveal your secrets,” I told the folder, hovering with my
touchpad’s cursor over it. “Open, Sesame.”
The second I clicked, my laptop switched off with a loud sizzling
sound. I drew back from it in shock, spilling hot coffee over my ankle.
Swearing like a sailor, I put away the cup to examine the laptop, which
fortunately, wasn’t drenched in coffee. The charger was plugged in, the
battery was on, but the computer wasn’t running. I closed the lid, flipped it
over and faced the bolts holding the back panel.
Fuck! I didn’t have any screwdrivers, knives or scissors to help me open
it.
Sucking in a deep breath, I called forth the air element.
The bolts spun, unscrewing themselves. Then back panel flew up,
revealing something that tore a whimper from my chest. Once green and
healthy, my motherboard was stained with dark spots of burnt, melted
polymer. My motherboard was literally fried!
Utterly perplexed, I didn’t even realize when the door had gotten
consumed by bright emerald flames, up until something curled around my
elbow and pulled me to my feet. An unfamiliar man dressed in a guard’s
uniform was standing in the room.
“You’re coming with me,” he declared with a stormy expression. “The
Council wants to see you.”
The Council? Had they changed their mind about… Oh, hell no! Did
they know what I was trying to do? Was this why my motherboard was
dead? Was it because of a magical firewall or something?
“Why are you taking me to them?” I asked the guard as he dragged me
to the ninth floor.
He kept pulling me in total silence. I had definitely gotten myself into
deep shit this time!
 The man pushed me through the door, walked in and closed it, barring
my escape route. Scanning the room, I noticed only Monika’s mom and
Dann’s uncle were present.
Hallvard was probably so sick and tired of the crap I kept presenting
him with, he was going to kick me off the island. But was that a bad thing?
Could I find some information on Amyria and answers to my other
questions in another country? The world out there was vast, full of other
creatures. Surely, there’d be a way for me to find more than I could find
while being stuck here, right?
Mrs. Larsen quickly pulled me out of my new ideas for potential
schemes. “Miss Dustrikke, you accessed Administration files without
clearing permission.”
“You fried my fucking laptop without clearing permission and made me
spill hot coffee all over myself,” I snapped back, arms crossed over my
chest. “I don’t know which hurts more.”
“How did you access the files?”
“I asked Administration nicely,” I lied, emphasizing the last word.
“We know you remotely hacked the computer from your personal
laptop. How did you do it?”
If I keep enraging them, maybe I’ll speed up this conversation and
they’ll let me go quickly, a wise voice noted in my head.
“How did I do it? I did it easily and on purpose!”
This time, Dann’s uncle spoke directly.
“Miss Dustrikke, we are well aware you studied computing in the
mundane world. If we need to, we will call in an expert to trace back your
moves.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sending a packet injection into a Wi-Fi connection
barely calls for an expert. An eleven-year-old can do it.”
Well, at least I had learned how to do it when I was eleven. As for the
rest, I wasn’t going to tell them about my object code backdoor.
“Thank you for the confirmation. Mr. Ylönen will escort you to your
room. Hand him your personal technology, including your phone. You will
not be allowed any access to electronics, and you will not leave the island
until further notice.”
Not leave the island? They were still going to keep me here? But of
course! I was their precious fucking Dustrikke.
 “This is obstruction of basic human rights! As well as personal
property! Last time I checked, you weren’t the Norwegian Court of Justice.
You can’t even take me to court and prove I’ve engaged in cybercrime.
Because you know what? Nobody’s gonna believe I hacked into some
hidden supernatural island’s computers.”
Johanna Larsen took over once again.
“We have more than enough personnel in the supernatural Justice
Department in more than one institution. You don’t have the authority to
judge our preventative methods. Everything we do is for the safety of
Nordstrøm residents and the souls outside these walls. If you prefer to be
treated as a common American criminal, we can lock you away in a
maximum security prison anywhere in Midgard for two to ten years. This
sentence would be fully compliant with the mundane law.”
Oh, fuuuck! My inner Gary McKinnon was in deep waters, just like the
real Gary McKinnon.
“Miss Dustrikke, we are living in a complicated world. Human laws
rarely apply to it. We are not the enemy, and it is not your place to meddle
with things you don’t understand. It’d be wise to learn it sooner rather than
later.”
“But if I’m not allowed phone and computer privileges on top of not
being allowed to leave the island, I’ll have no way of paying my phone bill.
My service provider will sue me for nothing.”
“We can arrange a cancellation of your mobile plan on your behalf.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Do we look like we are joking?”
She looked like she didn’t even know the meaning of the word.
Hallvard, who had kept his mouth shut, looked like always – avoiding my
eyes and trying not to breathe.
“Okay, I’ll give you my stuff. Just tell the supernatural IT expert who
set up your overkill arsonist defenses, that they could have just sent a virus
to mess with my operating system! That laptop was state of the art!”
Johanna Larsen nodded to the guard. He followed me to my room, took
away my electronics, and walked away.
Stunned and alone, I asked myself how it was possible for me to find
new ways to keep fucking up my life on an hourly basis. And whether I
could do it professionally, since I was obviously quite talented at it.
 

The Darkness We Carry Within

A snowstorm hit the island on Friday morning.
I wondered if it was Mother Nature, or if it was simply some Elemental
necromancer who felt like shit. Like he or she had just lost the last relative
they had. Like they wanted to bury the world under a snowy blanket and
suffocate everyone and everything under it.
Staring through the window of my new room, I wondered how good it
would have felt if I could do that. How numbing and easy it would have
been, if only the pristine snow could cover everything and leave nothing
above the surface.
Someone cleared their throat. I turned, searching for the source of the
unexpected sound.
Administration had given me a room on the fourth floor and promised I
wouldn’t have a roommate. The place was similar to my previous one – a
small entryway corridor and a bathroom, a single bed with a nightstand, a
coffee table, a desk, a chair, one big wardrobe, some wall shelves, sets of
blackout curtains. I kept them pushed aside for a glimpse of the only thing
that still felt like it held some beauty in this world – the northern lights. But
the night had been stormy, and they never appeared. I checked every time I
woke up from gurgling sounds and screaming voices, but they weren’t
there.
The only unexpected thing in this room was a small male creature,
standing next to the wardrobe. Unlike the house spirit who had cleaned up
my vomit, this one didn’t have any scars on his face, but the tiny brown
eyes weren’t happy to see me.
“Miss, it’s time for breakfast.”
 “The Council has ordered you to bring me food? How noble! They’ve
sent you in vain because I don’t eat breakfast.”
“No, miss, they sent me to wake you up. Breakfast is served in the
Dining Hall, but if you wish to eat in your room, we can arrange it.”
To wake me up? Of course. They had taken my tech crap, so now I
didn’t have my phone to signal when it was time for me to get up and head
over to my exercises.
“You shouldn’t have to tend to my needs every time I have to do
something or be somewhere. I’ll just get an alarm clock.”
The house spirit immediately disappeared into thin air.
Húsvættir were strange beings. Although I was glad to know they
received compensation for housekeeping, I didn’t want to see one every
morning, because my nights were already haunted by scary creatures.
And I made sure I wouldn’t have to, by requesting an alarm clock from
Administration – since I didn’t have a way to order one online. Raisa wasn’t
happy to see me either.
Neither was Patricia Svensson when I didn’t evoke a spirit in my
pentagram later that day.
At dinner, I saw Hallvard Nordstrøm frowning while talking to an
unfamiliar man on his left. He had never looked at me, but I was sure if he
ever made direct eye contact, he’d also be furrowing his brows or pursing
his lips, or clicking his tongue in disappointment, or glaring at me furiously.
But it didn’t matter.
The only person I wanted to look at was someone I would never be able
to see again. Adaline Dustrikke was just as dead and gone as her longtime
partner – my uncle Thomas.
She had sent me here to protect me from the forces outside this castle
which, according to the Council, had led to her death and the death of my
last relatives. Otherworldly shadow. Was it Carlynderians? Was she dead
because she was trying to fight against something evil, like my parents?
Carlynderians. Nøkk. Malicious extraterrestrials. Malicious water
spirits. Malicious Gjenferd ghosts. Malicious casters.
I peeked at Hallvard once again, remembering Dann’s words about the
way his parents had died. I couldn’t see him anywhere in the Dining Hall.
Glancing at my plate with a wry face, I wasn’t even sure why I was looking
for him. Maybe to ask him why he had kissed me? And if he had Wandered
into my dreams?
 Thinking about both times, I had one simple explanation. Dann had lost
his fucking mind. He’d probably hit his head so brutally during one of those
crazy training sessions with Maksim, that he had totally lost it. Moreover,
his vision was most definitely also impaired by the head injury, because he
had called me beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. Not just on an average
bad-hair-day kind of night, but while I was crying.
And he had dropped some confusing line about fated dooms, written in
the stars. Maybe he was indeed injured in the brain department.
Or was there some other explanation? Something that could also explain
why I hallucinated only around him? And why my hallucinations were
always about him?
No! His Excellency had simply lost it. For a little while I, too, had lost it
by kissing him back. And that was all there was to it. The last thing I
needed was a sort-of teacher-student romance.
My aunt would have been so disappointed in me if she’d known about
it. I remembered how hurt she got when I decided to take a year off
university. If she knew how much of a fuck-up I was as a necromancer, she
would have turned in her grave.
But she didn’t have a grave.
My parents did, and I had never visited them because I used to be
scared, anxious and nauseated by everything that had to do with death.
After seeing death in person, I didn’t feel necrophobia-like symptoms
anymore.
I didn’t feel anything but regret for my behavior towards my aunt. I had
blown my chances of apologizing. Not only for the last time I saw her, but
for each time my short fuse had exploded during the years without caring
for her feelings.
I kept going through the following days trying to fight off my tears,
while each night I cried myself to sleep, trying to fight off the scraping and
screaming of the demons that haunted my dreams.
On Tuesday morning, I knew I had to face another demon – seeing
Dann for the first time since the night after my birthday. Much to my
surprise, I received a note from Administration, stating there would be no
more History of the Nine Realms lectures for the rest of the year.
Something in me shuddered with disappointment.
Get over it. Just as the thought crossed my mind, another one followed.
Time to throw you away with the rest of his insipid playthings.
 But I had no intention of becoming one, and the fact he wouldn’t be
around for the rest of the year was a relief.

* * *
For nine days I kept myself afloat.
The only good thing about this entire situation was Monika staying out
of my sight. She had indeed kept her promise of staying away and focusing
on her mundane studies, since I couldn’t see her purple head anywhere in
the Dining Hall or down the castle’s corridors.
I spotted her brother a few times at lunch and dinner, but he never
approached me. It only solidified my theory – he’d know the truth all along,
and had also kept it a secret, like his sister.
Everyone on the island was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming
holidays. Their clamor and the colorful Christmas decorations hanging in
the castle were nothing but white noise to me. They were as languid and
emotionless as the snow covering the courtyards.
Geira Brekke concluded our final book club meeting for the year on a
Thursday evening, wishing everyone happy holidays.
The word holidays set itself apart from the white noise.
As my aunt had always said, it was best to plan ahead, at least when it
came down to important life decisions, such as one’s career. Having in mind
I had dropped out of higher education once, I decided to honor her memory.
It was also the smart move, because while I hadn’t had expenses here,
apart from occasional online shopping for clothes and toiletries, I couldn’t
live out my entire life off my college trust fund.
“Mrs. Brekke?” I said quietly, closing the door behind the last person.
“Do you have a couple of minutes?”
“Yes, Learyn? How is your aunt? Please give her my regards when you
see her over the holidays.”
I bit back the tears.
Wait until tonight. They always come at night. You can fight them during
the day.
“I won’t be seeing her for the holidays. She’s dead.”
A near gasp-like sound emerged from her throat and her eyes widened
in shock. She grabbed my hand, clutching it tightly.
“Oh, dear child! When did this happen?”
I shrugged, but for some reason didn’t pull away.
 “November, at some point.”
“My deepest condolences. Adaline was an astonishing woman in every
way. She will be missed by many.”
I nodded. Despite her declining age, she was now squeezing my hand
with both arms in a tight grip. I knew it was polite to thank someone when
they offered you their condolences. But how could I say “thank you” in
regards to the fact my aunt – who’d been my mother, father, guiding hand
and the stronghold withstanding all my storms – was dead?
“If you need to talk to someone, ask for me at Administration. I will be
here until tomorrow morning and will return from my holiday trip at the
beginning of January.”
“Thank you,” I finally uttered the words, but they still clung to me like a
perverted sort of residue flavor that was stuck in my mouth. “I wanted to
ask you something about your academic rank and degree.”
Her face eased into a smile full of pity, and she let go of my hand.
“I have a Ph.D. in Animal and Aquacultural Science.”
“Is it from a supernatural school?”
“No, dear. I obtained it from the entirely mundane Norwegian
University of Life Sciences’ Faculty of Biosciences a decade ago.”
“Oh, I… I just wanted to ask about academic ranks and careers in the
supernatural world. I know there are only two schools in Midgard accepting
necromancers, so what are my options? Can I simultaneously enroll in a
mundane university and in a necromantic academy, and juggle both?”
“You can,” she confirmed with a nod.
“And what can I do as a necromancer in the supernatural world, not as a
necromancer posing as a human?”
“You can do anything you set your mind to, Learyn. The supernatural
world is similar to the one of humans. If you wish to pursue a career in
politics, science, arts and other sectors, you can do so even as a
necromancer. What did you want to do before you came here?”
I shrugged. “Become a software developer, but that’s irrelevant now. I
doubt any tech mogul would accept my real nature.”
“Computer science?” she asked. “There are many, hmm, as you call
them – tech moguls – who work with supernaturals.”
“Really? Which ones?”
“I will have to ask my son. He’s better with technology than I am.”
 “Is he a software developer?” I asked, suddenly overtaken by a ray of
hope that shot right through my miserable, self-pity ridden state of mind.
“No, he’s completing a language degree at the University of Stavanger,
but he’s an Elemental like you. He has… What do you call those programs
on your phone?”
“Apps.”
“Yes, apps. He’s constantly spending time on this dating app for single
supernatural beings, where they meet other single supernatural beings from
every corner of Midgard. I am sure this app isn’t the product of a human
company.”
Huh. A Tinder exclusively for supernaturals. Well, you didn’t exactly
need a big IT mogul to come up with a dating app.
“Is there some Norwegian HR company I can talk to? Human
Resources, but not for humans? Like, someone who deals with hiring
necromancers on behalf of other companies?”
“You can ask Administration to get you in touch with them. Would you
like to continue this conversation on our way to the Dining Hall?”
Oh, crap! She was probably hungry, and I was keeping her.
“Maybe some other time. Thanks, Mrs. Brekke. For everything.”
“Anytime,” she replied with a soft smile.

* * *
Since I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with, and I didn’t have a reason to
celebrate, I sought Brühl the next day for additional Elemental sessions.
The guy wasn’t happy about spending a Friday with me. Too bad it
wasn’t up to him to send me away, otherwise I was sure he would have quit
our sessions after the very first one. Honestly, I had no idea why I was
feeling masochistic enough to do this to myself, but working on my
Elemental magic seemed like the proper thing to do.
He was still giving me hell for not being able to control my fire element
the way I had learned to control air. We had returned back to wax candles
and wicks. Quietly admitting it to myself, I regretted coming. I was barely
holding it together, longing for the moment he’d let me go, so I could run
off to my bedroom and let the tears flow again.
“Concentrate, Dustrikke! Rid your mind of holidays and distractions.
The Council will test you in January if you stay here. Do you wish to fail,
like mediocre verdammte Kinder do, or do you wish to prove you’re a
Dustrikke child?”
Maybe I had finally had enough of his abusive methods, because I
couldn’t hold on to my defensive walls any longer. I jumped off the chair
and rushed to the wall behind me, keeping my back to him.
“I’m not distracted by holidays, because I won’t be going home to
celebrate,” I whispered in a strained voice. My vocal cords were crushed by
a fucking knot that kept refusing to go away.
“I don’t care how you’ll be spending your vacation trips, Dustrikke!
Turn around, sit back on that chair, and focus on your candles!”
“Why? Because I’m supposed to be able to learn how to control my
awesome ancestral magic faster than others? Good thing there aren’t any
other Dustrikke family members left to be embarrassed by my failures!”
“What are you talking about?”
I half-scoffed, half-sobbed. “My aunt is dead. Doran and Edor, the last
remaining people bearing the Dustrikke name, are also dead. My bloodline
begins and ends with me.”
The rushed footsteps behind my back signaled running. He grabbed my
outer arms, turned me around and dug his fingers into my skin, just below
my shoulders. His grip was too painful, and I had to blink to keep my
weakness at bay.
Brühl’s eyes were wide open. Something in his expression didn’t quite
add up. There shouldn’t have been any horror in his stare. But that was all
there was to it.
“You are the last Dustrikke?” he asked in a non-scolding way.
I squeezed my eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling.
“Guess that makes it easier for you, huh? That famed necromantic
legacy you’re protecting just got short on people to protect.”
“Oh, you stupid, peevish little girl!” He growled, pushing me away.
“Open your eyes!”
Stumbling backwards, I opened my watery eyes.
Everything was blurry. Still, he had such a ferocious and savage look, I
wondered if he was going to hit me. Not with magic, like he had done
before, but with his hand.
“Flesh eating Daayan witches, cannibalistic wechuge beasts,
bloodthirsty trolls… The world out there will crush you like a bug!”
His voice raged, screaming in my face.
 “Syrian ghouls and their Sa’alin females travel from graveyard to
graveyard, feeding on corpses and transforming into whomever they ate for
lunch! Viscera suckers are migrating from the Philippines! Sea serpents are
spreading like venereal diseases, while sailors only fear the damn Kraken
that Loki released in Midgard centuries ago!”
I took another step back.
“Restless apparitions are roaming every street!” He shouted, spitting
drops of saliva. “Violent, merciless Gjenferd and Mylingar! Men, women
and children, who’ve been murdered, are now haunting household objects
or entire households, fixated on nothing else but making the ones who go
near them suffer as much as they have!”
I kept going back. He kept stepping forward.
“Vampires, who will drain you in a manner of minutes! Djinns, who
will make you lose your sanity with the snap of their fingers! Lowlife
Skinwalkers, who will transform into your beloved pet dog and gut you in
your sleep! Demons and Mares, who will toy with your body like it’s a
marionette doll!”
There was nowhere to step anymore. I had hit a wall.
“And then there are the necromancers!” He snarled the last word, as if it
was the most repulsive thing on the planet. “Power-hungry, soul-sucking,
blood-spilling necromancers! Similar to the likes of this lot right here! The
Nordstrøms are doing everything they can to repair the monstrosity they’ve
been inflicting for centuries! The Velands are long gone! The last shred of
the Dustrikke legacy is a scared child, drowning herself in self-pity! You’re
a disgrace to a bloodline that evokes reverence and veneration just at the
mention of the Dustrikke name!”
His fist shot through the air. I instinctively turned my head to the side,
expecting it to land somewhere on me. But his punch landed inches away
from my face with such force, the wall behind me trembled.
It took me a few moments to realize it wasn’t the force of his blow that
had made the wall shake. I was the one who was shaking, overtaken by
rapid tremors, racing through my core and making me quiver like a fragile
aspen sapling.
With a growl, he withdrew from me.
“You’re a damn Dustrikke! Start acting like it!”

* * *
That night was the first one devoid of demons. The island was quieter than
usual, most of the castle’s residents had left for the holidays, and I lied
awake, listening to the silence. No monstrous gurgling sounds. No claws
scraping rocky shores. No girls screaming in agony and horror.
Brühl was right. I had only gotten a glimpse of the real world, and had
already started acting like I’d seen the end.
Aurora had kept standing her ground on that fjord, even though she
knew she couldn’t perform the spell properly without seeing the Nøkk. She
hadn’t even bothered listening when I had told her she was transforming
into a soulless creature. Aurora, the heartless bitch who killed necromancers
for the kicks of it, was trying to save us, all of us, and trying to not harm the
Nøkk in the process. The Nordstrøms are doing everything they can to
repair the monstrosity they’ve been inflicting for centuries. While I lied in
my bed like a helpless, useless child.
Sleep came late, and my dreams were a black emptiness, showing me
what I already knew – Brühl’s words weren’t just some crap he had blurted
out in blind rage.
So, the next morning, I went to the library and took every single book
from Section RA1 that responded to the word Dustrikke. I wasn’t sure if I
was doing it as a way of searching for something to hold on to. Something
to keep me close to my aunt. Like when I had spent months listening to my
parents’ favorite songs right after they died.
I spent the following days researching my family. And I finally
understood why everyone here was in awe of my last name. It wasn’t only
because it was one of the original three necromantic bloodlines.
My ancestors had indeed been casters worthy of everyone’s veneration.
Their contribution to the supernatural world through scientific research
on the care for numerous magical creatures was unparalleled.
Moreover, they had increased the population of one of the rarest
magical creatures in Midgard – something called a Noody. It had the ability
to absorb almost any poisonous substance, then store it in the stinging
spikes on its back, so it could inject the poison in its prey, or in any predator
coming after it. The Noody was an amphibian creature, smaller than a
common hedgehog, and the innermost membrane of its spikes held
detoxifying liquids, which prevented the stored poison from invading the
Noody’s body. Even a tiny extraction of this detoxifying liquid could boost
the antidotes for most poisons.
 The Noody and other scientific achievements left aside, my ancestors
were badass. They had fought against those necromancers and supernatural
creatures who’d gone bloodthirsty in their cravings for power in Midgard,
as well as the bad guys beyond it.
Geira Brekke hadn’t mentioned the Dustrikke name when we discussed
the Dark Ages for the Dökkálfar. But the books chronicled how Dustrikkes
from two generations had given their lives while fighting to end the
Dökkálfar enslavements.
And during Nazi occupations in World War II, my family had fought in
the humans’ battles not only here, in Scandinavia, but all over Europe. I
couldn’t imagine someone willingly going into battle, let alone a world war.
Then again, Freya had created necromancers during the Viking age exactly
with the idea that they could balance out senseless bloodshed and murders.
I found some information on three Dustrikke brothers who were part of
the Varangians – the elite Varangian Guard of emperors in the Byzantine
Empire. Varangians were comprised of Scandinavian immigrants who
served not only as protectors of the royal family, but also as highly valued
advisors for warfare. I wasn’t versed in European history. Still, I was sure
the Byzantine Romans wouldn’t have entrusted their emperor’s life in
foreign hands – especially pagan hands – for nothing.
During the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, Dustrikkes also fought
against supernatural forces. I remembered Brühl’s words from November –
that some necromancers went dark and enslaved all sorts of creatures, using
them for blood magic and other crap. Then I remembered Dann’s
explanations about the Nordstrøms’ atrocious deeds.
The books didn’t mention Nordstrøms among the ones my ancestors
had fought. If Dann and Aurora’s family had indeed done such shit, it made
sense for the books to lack information about it. It was called Nordstrøm
Island, after all. They’d scrub their reputation clean and prevent us from
reading about the dark side of their history, right?
If I was looking for a way to get closer to my aunt or to keep holding on
to her memory, I had definitely chosen the wrong way. Because I had
achieved the exact opposite – reading about my family only made me feel
like I had disappointed her on an epic level.
* * *
Days kept rolling, and I spent them in the library, tiring my brain and eyes
to such an extent, I was too exhausted to cry at night.
The handful of people spending their holiday here weren’t deprived of a
proper Christmas dinner, as the note I received from Administration hinted.
With no intention of mingling with others, I did the usual – returned books
to their proper shelves and got new ones.
My plans for Christmas Eve derailed when my eyes landed on someone.
She was sitting on the floor, leaning against a bookcase a few steps away
from the reading areas in Section RC3. I was looking for an old fifteenth
century book about magical creatures, written by two of my ancestors, but I
forgot about it when I identified the figure.
Vee Selvig.
Don’t mix with the mutt. You have a name too, Dustrikke. Whose do you
care to preserve? Hers or yours?
Heimir Aagard’s words spun in my mind. I had no idea why he, like Vee
herself, had kept trying to push me away from her from day one.
Vee was staring straight ahead, despite the open book on her lap,
apparently not aware of her surroundings. I hesitated for a few seconds,
then slowly approached her.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly. She jumped on the spot. “Sorry, I
didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You shouldn’t be talking to me!”
Her whisper was so quiet, I barely made it out. Instead of walking away,
I put my stack of books on the floor, kneeled down, and produced half a
smile.
“Everyone is at dinner, so no one will see me talking to you.”
She glanced at her fingers, chipping her nails. The nail plates were
translucent, showing purple skin underneath. Seriously! How could anyone
want to harm such a creature? Sure, I wasn’t used to her kind, so she was an
extraordinarily mesmerizing sight for me. But her Dökkálfar beauty was
stunning nonetheless. How could someone ever use her kind for blood
slavery and other similar practices?
I tilted my head, trying to attract her attention. Up to this day, she hadn’t
given me any sign that she had read my note. There was obviously
something dangerous she was afraid of, otherwise she wouldn’t have run
away both times I talked to her in November.
 “Thank you for trying to be friendly, but I don’t want anyone to get hurt
because of me.”
“Vee, what’s going on? Why do you think someone will hurt me if they
see me talking to you? Does it have something to do with Heimir Aagard?”
She mumbled some inarticulate sounds under her nose, still keeping her
head down.
“What did you say?”
“Berserkers,” she whispered, only a hint louder than before.
“What’s that?”
She finally lifted her head, looking around. Her cheeks were glistening,
but not because of the white freckles contrasting against her dark purple
complexion. She was crying.
“Gatherings of fanatics and pureblood zealots. Murderers, who want to
cleanse the world from… impurities.”
“Impurities?”
“Hybrids like me.”
“Why?”
She fixed her eyes back on her lap. “Because I’m an abomination, and
I’m also someone who should be in chains.”
“Chains? The Dark Age for Dökkálfar is over.”
“Not for them.”
“So, these Berserkers or whatever they’re called, they will come after
me just because I’m talking to you?”
“They will if they see you, and they will see you, because someone is
always watching.”
“They’re here? On the island?”
She shook her head, but didn’t reply. I grabbed her hand, overtaken by
familiar impatience and thirst for answers. Answers that never came.
“Vee, please tell me! You have no idea what it’s like to be constantly
expecting some threat, and at the same time not knowing what exactly to
expect!”
She pulled away. “I know what it’s like.”
I immediately regretted my actions.
There was so much in her that reminded me of myself. Not just the
embarrassment or the hurting, but the way she kept to herself and drew
back from physical contact. She put up walls and refused to talk, much like
I did, but for the first time ever, I was on the opposite side of those walls.
And I had absolutely no clue what to do.
“It’s better if you don’t know about the things outside.”
Her words caught me off guard.
We were supposed to be preparing for the world outside. The Council
had instructed Brühl to teach me, despite his relentless and inhumane
methods, because he was – according to them – among the most powerful
Elemental practitioners on the island. My mentor’s outbursts were fueled by
my lack of knowledge and overemotional side. My family had hidden me
on purpose from the supernatural world. The reason I was here was to stay
safe while preparing exactly for whatever it was I was hiding from.
“What have you seen outside? Did these Berserkers do something?”
“Please go! Heimir’s family has someone who’s always watching.
They’ll know if you’re mixing with mutts like me.”
Don’t mix with the mutt. Of course! It made sense for the most openly
racist guy I had seen to come from such background. After all, he had
mentioned his family had used a Draug as a nanny.
Vee finally looked at me with her big, round, violet eyes, and I saw the
fresh tears she had been hiding.
“Hey, I’m not scared of Heimir Aagard and the likes of him.”
“Of course you wouldn’t be,” she said quietly, no longer fidgeting with
her hands. “But there are worse things than Berserkers you should be scared
of. Berserkers are blinded by their rage towards creatures like me, and they
kill everything they deem unworthy, but they have a point.”
“I’m confused. I thought you were afraid of them.”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid they will hurt you if they find out you
support the mixing of pure blood.”
“Then why would you say they have a point?”
“Because other creatures deserve to die.”
She said it in one breath, almost like she’d blurted it out without really
wanting to, because a moment later she clasped her mouth with both hands.
I stared at her, unsure of what more to say to make her believe me. She was
obviously afraid of these murderers, but she was even more terrified
because of something else.
I thought about the Nøkk. Part of me finally grasped it – why she kept
to herself, never fought back, endured the laughter and the bullying, and
spent her holidays locked up in this place.
 The most heavily warded place in Midgard.
“Someone has hurt you,” I said slowly, scanning her violet irises for
confirmation. “Some creature outside this castle.”
Her thin, fragile-looking shoulders trembled. She wiggled in her spot,
drawing as far away from me as possible.
“Was it Berserkers? Other necromancers?”
Her watery eyes remained fixed on me as she shook her head. Before I
could ask her again, a tear rolled down her cheek. She gasped, touching her
face. Once again, I immediately regretted my words and actions.
“Vee, I’m sorry if I came out too harsh and forward. I didn’t mean to
press the subject. I really am sorry. I just saw you sitting there and wanted
to make sure you’re okay.”
Thanks to the countless questions in my head, I hadn’t thought even for
a second how I shouldn’t have poked in somebody else’s past.
Her eyes grew wider. She took her hands off her face, then pushed
herself up so fast, her movements became a blur.
“Please don’t talk to me.”
A second later, a breezy whiff of air spun around us, and she was gone.
I went back to my room long after midnight, still thinking about Vee.
She had thanked me for trying to be friendly. I didn’t want to be friendly.
Having friends meant having more people who’d end up being disappointed
in me. More people who’d end up being dead.
I didn’t want to mourn. I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to hurt. I
didn’t want to feel.
All I wanted was to shapeshift into a fucking bear and hibernate through
the most wonderful time of the year because it was anything but wonderful.
* * *

New Year’s used to be one of my favorite holidays. I didn’t make

resolutions, but I loved the beginning of every year and how it held so much
potential for new adventures. That was what my parents always said when I
was growing up – the new year will bring new adventures.
I loved seeing the festive decorations all over San Francisco and the
stunning fireworks reflecting over the waterfront. I used to count down the
last seconds till midnight with such excitement. Even after my uncle passed
away and it was just me and my aunt.
 For the first time in my life, there weren’t any fireworks, overbooked
clubs, drunken people singing on the streets, among hundreds of thousands
of San Franciscans welcoming the new year. A loud chiming signaled the
first seconds of January, probably coming from the gigantic clock tower
perched atop the castle’s central wing. As I listened to it, I wondered if the
guards, house spirits and other island residents who were spending their
holiday here felt as alone as I was.
Some part of me kept saying things weren’t as bad as they seemed.
I had spent twelve years with my parents, seventeen with my uncle, and
the rest of my life with my aunt. I wasn’t a poor orphan who had lived a
miserable life. I wasn’t deprived of my family. Kids all over the world had
it so much worse.
The same part of me kept whispering my so-called friends hadn’t done
nearly as bad as other people’s frenemies had. And that same part kept
noting that even though my exes had cheated, abandoned me or made me a
laughing-stock for some stupid bet, they could have abused me in far scarier
ways. After all, The Phallus Who Shall Not Be Named had only cheated on
me. The one before him got into my pants over a bet that he could pop the
cherry of the last seventeen-year-old Goth virgin in our high school. And
the other guys weren’t nearly as bad.
But that was just a tiny grown up part of me, overshadowed by all the
anger, frustration, heartache, embarrassment and exhaustion. The same
feelings I had hoped I’d leave behind by moving here. They had only
increased in weight over the past couple of months.
And when that clock ceased its chiming, the twelve seconds I had spent
not thinking about those feelings disappeared into thin air, leaving room for
something else – my very first resolution.
I promised myself I was going to be better.
I was going to start paying more attention to my exercises with the
guards, I was going to practice harder, I was going to stop letting my
emotions get the best of me, I was going to outgrow the childish little girl.
And I wasn’t going to let my aunt’s death be in vain.
Whether it was Berserkers, Amyria, Carlynderians, malicious spirits or
vicious Nøkk that I was supposed to be running from, I was going to learn
how to cope with them.
Which meant only one thing – I had to start following Brühl’s advice
and learn how to think like a necromancer.
 And so, I took out one of my notebooks, flipped a page with a Spirit
Trap, and took a deep breath. I had no phone or printed pictures of Doran or
Edor Dustrikke, let alone some of their personal belongings to help me
connect with their spirits. But I was a Dustrikke, like them, and I couldn’t
waste more time by digging for a portrait or painting somewhere in the
castle.
“Doran,” I said quietly, closing my eyes, cleansing my mind of
everything apart from thoughts of my ancestor.
After a few seconds, I peeked at the pentagram. No apparition.
“Doran,” I repeated, this time keeping my eyes open.
Nothing.
“Doran Dustrikke.”
You’re more powerful than you think.
“Doran, I’m calling you.”
You’re a damn Dustrikke. Start acting like it.
“Doran Dustrikke!” I raised my voice, staring at the pentagram.
You are a necromancer, a damn powerful necromancer, and you must
learn how to think and react like one.
“Doran Dustrikke, I’m calling for you! Answer me!”
There was a tight pull from behind my navel, as if something was
dragging me forward, similar to the sensation I got as a kid whenever I went
higher and higher on a swing.
An ashy fog rose from the paper, swirling towards the ceiling, spreading
in length and width, until it formed the shape of an elderly man. Translucent
and eerily frowning, the apparition wasn’t happy.
“Why have you summoned me?”
It had a deep voice, like it wasn’t a spirit, but a real life human. I wasn’t
sure how to answer him, so I stared into his transparent eyes and tried to
pick my words carefully.
“I’m Learyn Dustrikke, your relative.”
“Why have you summoned me?”
Apparently, it wasn’t the correct answer.
“Because I need to practice my summoning. You’re recently deceased,
on top of that you’re my relative, and as a necromancer, disturbing the dead
is something I do.”
He didn’t reply, but the fact that he didn’t ask me again meant my
sarcastic answer was explanatory enough. Unsure of what more to tell him,
I silently watched the transparent outlines of his body, and wondered if I
was going to have to go through the same conversation during my
upcoming test, or whether summoning Edor was the better choice.
Remembering his brother reminded me of something else.
“How did you die?” I blurted out before the thought even fully formed
in my head.
“I took my own life.”
“Yeah, I know that. You and your brother took your lives. But why?
How did you make the decision to commit suicide?”
Silence.
“What were you running from so badly, that you chose death?”
“The matters of my death are not something you should concern
yourself with.”
“They are, if you thought it was better to die than fight whatever threat
you wanted to avoid. Did my aunt die because of the same thing?”
More silence.
“Answer me!”
He didn’t. I gritted my teeth, suddenly sensing familiar irritation
coursing through my veins.
“Edor Dustrikke! I summon you!”
I had no idea if it was because I was more powerful than most
necromancers, or if summoning simply got easier after the first success.
Regardless of the reason, Doran’s older brother manifested next to him, a
mere second after I called his name. Turning my head to the new ghost, I
shot him a stern look.
“Why did you take your life?”
Edor glanced at Doran, then fixed his eyes on me. “Do not meddle in
manners far beyond a young girl’s comprehension.”
The guy was born in the late nineteenth century, so he had the right to
call me a young girl. But seeing how both of them kept the reason for their
deaths a secret, only fueled my irritation. My annoyance became so brutal,
my New Year’s resolution about not letting emotions get the best of me
headed straight for hell.
“I’ve fucking had it with people telling me I should keep my head low
and not meddle in things I don’t understand until I’m old enough! The
Council told me my aunt was dead, and they believe her death was caused
by the thing that ended your lives. What were you running from?”
 Neither of them replied.
“How many times do I have to ask you? I’m the last fucking Dustrikke
in existence! If someone or something is after our line, I need to know what
it is, otherwise I can’t fight it! The two of you obviously thought the easy
way out was death, but I want to live! And if that means fighting–”
“You cannot fight it,” Edor interrupted me. “None of us can.”
“What is it?”
“A power stronger than any necromancer or Midgardian.”
“Why is it after my family?”
“It’s not,” Edor corrected me, “it’s after Asgard.”
The realm? That didn’t make sense at all.
“What is it?” I demanded again.
This time Doran opened his translucent mouth. “Don’t meddle in these
matters. Stay where you are, and you’ll be safe.”
Neither of them made any sense. What did the Dustrikkes have to do
with Asgard apart from being… Created by a Vanir goddess who resided in
Asgard!
“Is this thing after Freya?”
“In a way, it is.”
Edor responded in the vaguest way possible, prompting me to ask
myself what sort of thing would want to reach Asgard. If this unnamed
power wasn’t after our world, then it was the gods’ fight, not ours. Why
were Dustrikkes taking part in it, when the consequences were nothing
other than death?
“Did this thing kill my aunt?”
“Stay where you are, and you’ll be safe,” Doran repeated bluntly.
“Don’t tell me what to do! Tell me what I’m asking you!”
Silence. At least now I knew why I was always so stubborn and hell-
bent on keeping my thoughts to myself. The traits simply ran in the family.
“Screw it. If you don’t want to talk now, I’ll keep trying every day until
you change your mind and tell me truth I deserve to know. No, the hell with
that! I won’t even bother summoning you day after day. I’ll just keep you
inside this stupid pentagram until you decide to give me a proper answer.”
“You’re not ready,” Doran’s ghost bent forward, leaning towards me.
“This island is a safe haven. Stay here. You’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, and what happens when the Council finally allows me to leave
this hellhole?”
 “Then we will talk about another safe haven.”
“Well, in that case you’ll spend the next fifty-fucking-years bound to
the pentagram!”
I stormed out of my room with the idea a walk would help me calm
down. I would get back to my ancestors later, when I wasn’t irritated, so I
could act like a calm grown-up.
But my legs barely made it two floors down before I remembered
something my mind had kept obstructing from me since the last time I’d
seen Brühl – my rendezvous with the Nøkk.
I ran back to my room, shut the door, and faced the two spirits.
“It’s Amyria, isn’t it?” I asked, crossing arms over my chest. “That
force is Amyria.”
The two brothers exchanged glances, but neither of them bothered
confirming or rebuffing my theory.
“Why am I marked by her if she’s after Asgard? What does Amyria
want with me? Why is my aunt dead? How did Amyria kill her? Why do I
need to be protected from Amyria?”
More questions and a lack of answers. Typical.
* * *
Over the course of the next few days I built a routine – wake up, ask the
two brothers the same things, watch them keep quiet, then get back to
reading about spells and magical creatures.
Living in a haunted place was supposed to be scary, right? Having some
stupid ghost knock things over? Or wake you in the middle of the night
with screeching sounds? Or wail in a creepy voice whenever you were
trying to do something serious? My room was haunted, but apart from the
sight of the translucent apparitions, there was nothing strange about it.
The pentagram kept them within its bounds and prevented them from
wreaking havoc in the room, but the refusal to speak was their own doing.
Fortunately, summoning and keeping them here didn’t take its toll on
me. It would have had severe energy-draining and possibly eitr-straining
consequences if I had tried to control the spirits. But since I wasn’t the
bloodthirsty, soul-stealing necromancer from that Judas Priest song, I made
no attempts to use magic for controlling Doran and Edor in any way. I
simply let the Spirit Trap pentagram do all the work.
 If it hadn’t been for my ghostly routine, I probably would have felt
anxious about the two tests Brühl mentioned, but the only thing on my mind
was Amyria. The only ones who were willing to utter her name, while
everyone else pretended I hadn’t asked anything, were those murderous
Nøkk. Unfortunately, my chances of asking them were nonexistent. I had no
freaking idea how to get off the island, let alone how to ask them in such a
way, they wouldn’t eat me for dinner.
All of that changed on the first Saturday of January.
The Dining Hall had started filling with people returning from their
holiday trips. To my utter disgust, I saw Monika’s telltale purple head at
dinner. I tried my best to keep as far away from her table as possible, while
making my way towards another one.
“Learyn!”
Pretending, I hadn’t heard her yell, I kept walking.
“Learyn!”
Before I could take another step, she materialized in front of me.
“Go away!” I hissed and went around her.
“Please,” she begged, grabbing my arm, “talk to me!”
“Relieve me of your presence,” I growled out the words without
bothering to look at her.
“I know you’re still angry, but I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
I yanked my arm free and finally looked into her eyes. They were
watery, pouring atonement. She was obviously still carrying the guilt of
what happened. I would have felt sorry for her if she hadn’t chosen the
Council’s side last time we talked – a choice which only made my decision
easier.
“Leave me alone. I don’t give a shit about your feelings, the way you
didn’t give a shit about me as a friend.”
“That’s not true,” she protested and caught me again just as I was about
to walk past her. “I’ve always been your friend, and I do care about you.
Please hear me out!”
“I’m done listening to other people’s bullshit, Monika! Get the hell out
of my way, and stay gone! Because if you don’t, I fucking swear next time
you decide to grab me like that, I’ll use magic offensively!”
Drawing back from her, I took an empty chair and focused on more
important things than yet another liar whom I’d believed blindly. Things
like the Nøkk and Amyria.
 Fortunately, I didn’t have to think about new ways of getting answers
for long. One such new way was staring at me with her signature glare.
Aurora fucking Nordstrøm.
She had just walked through the doors, followed by a bunch of minions.
According to my mentor, my two tests would be next week. If I enraged
Aurora and she killed me, I had exactly one day to come back to life if I
wanted to not fail Monday’s test in evocation simply for not being present.
Piece of cake, right?
Oh, and on top of that, I actually had to think of something worthy
enough for Aurora’s help. She wasn’t going to help me out of the goodness
of her heart.
But what could I have, compared to Aurora? I couldn’t use anything as
a bargaining chip. She was beautiful, everyone was in awe of her, her
family owned the island and were probably zillionaires. They paid for
everything – heat, electricity, water, food, the guards, the house spirits…
The only thing I had was my Eitrhals, but it belonged to the Council.
So, what could I use to my advantage against the bitchiest bitch around
here?
“Aurora!” I called out her name, following her and her minions as soon
as they finished their dinner and walked out of the Dining Hall.
Her group turned, all facing me.
“Are you looking for trouble, Swallow?” Aurora asked, tilting her head
to the side. “Do you want to join Mommy and Daddy in the afterlife?”
“Don’t call me that!”
I had spent two seconds talking to her, and I already regretted it. I had
no idea why she hated me, but she definitely made me hating her easy.
“Hmm, I wonder how the Council will punish if you don’t show up for
your mandatory evocation test on Monday.”
“I don’t know,” I said, mirroring her head motion. “Why don’t you go
ask your uncle what happens if you try to kill the last Dustrikke in
existence?”
Aurora burst into laughter, but everyone around her remained quiet.
“You’re joking,” she scoffed.
“I’m not. And by the way, I saved your life, so you owe me a favor.”
Shit! I’d said it. I hadn’t meant to go there, but she drove my irritation
meter all the way up to the insanity bar. I regretted using it as a bargaining
chip, despite it being the truth. Now there was no way to ignore the
humongous elephant in the room and start this conversation from the top,
pretending I hadn’t dropped the life-saving bomb.
“I’m returning that favor by not murdering you again,” Aurora smiled
wryly, “so get the hell out of my sight.”
“Not before I talk to you in private.”
Everyone remained silent for a while. Just as I was about to press my
luck, the Queen Bitch nodded to her group. Her minions took off without
hesitation, like humanoid robots.
Aurora pushed my shoulder towards one of the smaller corridors that
branched out from the main one leading to the Dining Hall, and stayed
behind me. She was either going to kill me soon enough, or she had indeed
agreed to talk. The latter option was absurd, but I clung to it because my life
depended on it. Literally.
“Speak,” she hissed the word, swerving around me, and came to a stop
when we were deeper down the isolated corridor.
She was a head taller than me even as I wore stilettos. Her height,
combined with her angry look, was just as menacing as the thrills I had
experienced while she had been walking behind me.
“Who is Amyria?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your uncle knows.”
“He says it’s nonsense.”
“Do you believe him?”
She put her hands on her lower waist with obvious annoyance. “Why
would he lie to me, when we lost a Zolotov student over it?”
Now it was my turn to scoff. “You cared about her?”
“Of course, idiot! She was my friend! And her death strained our
relations with Zolotov. Even if he lied to you, my uncle wouldn’t lie to me
about it.”
“Okay, what if he said it because he doesn’t know what it means, but
there is indeed someone called Amyria, and the Nøkk were right? Don’t
you want to know why they attacked us?”
“Where are you going with this?”
“I want to ask the Nøkk. The Council isn’t letting me leave the island
because I’m the last Dustrikke alive, so I need your help.”
“Doing what exactly? Getting a free pass for a suicidal trip? Sure, I’d
gladly help. Let’s go ask my uncle right now.”
 Sarcastic Aurora was just as infuriating as Murderous Aurora. I wanted
to curl my hands into fists and hit her right in that pretty face. I wanted to
hit her so badly, she’d be scarred for life. Then maybe someone would cheat
on her or talk behind her back, too, and then she’d get off her fucking high
horse.
My last attempt at bringing her down hadn’t gone as well as planned, so
I clutched my fists, restraining myself from using them on her face.
“You must know a way to sneak me out unnoticed,” I whispered,
struggling to steady my heavy breathing. Fuck! I’d never, ever met someone
who made me want to get so violent. Then again, I had never met someone
who not only wished me dead, but had actually gone through the trouble of
actually killing me. “I also need your help talking to the Nøkk in a safe and
non-fatal way, unlike last time.”
“You can’t even see–”
She paused mid-sentence, her jaw dropped with the tiniest hint, and her
eyebrows curved up. She had probably remembered that, for whatever
reason, I could see the Nøkk, unlike her and most necromancers. And it just
gave me the bargaining chip I needed.
“Aurora, please! I promise I’ll substitute Monika whenever you want to
go spy on the Nøkk. Broad day, midnight, whatever, no questions asked.
Unlike her, I’ll go whenever you call.”
“The Council tightened our anti-Aperture wards. Now no one can
overpower them, not even me, so your proposal is useless.”
The spark of hope died as suddenly as it had appeared.
“However…” Aurora knit her eyebrows, scanning the empty air above
my head. “There is another way to get you out.”
“Anything!” I nearly jumped from the rush of excitement.
She dropped her hands with a sigh.
“I’ll do it, but only because I have to go near the Norwegian Sea’s
seawater away from this island and only because Monika is on lockdown.
No one can know about this, do you understand me? No one! I can’t end
your bloodline, but I can find more ways to make your life living hell than
your tiny head can count!”
“I won’t tell anyone and I won’t ask any questions! I promise!”
She studied me in silence while I tried my best not to shiver from the
adrenaline galloping through my body.
 “Get rid of Monika tomorrow morning around nine. I’ll come and get
you from your room.”
“Wait! I changed rooms. I’m in four-one-two on the fourth floor, no
roommates this time.”
“Fine, wait for me there. And don’t tell anyone!”
Before I could assure her I’d keep my mouth shut, she spun around and
disappeared into thin air. I stared at the empty, torch-lit corridor, then closed
my eyes, trying to teleport like her. When I opened my eyes, I was still
standing in that very same spot.
Good thing no one would be testing me in Aperture.
“Who’s Amyria?” I asked Doran and Edor, entering my bedroom.
Like always before, they didn’t answer.
I didn’t regret torturing their spirits by keeping them in here. I only
regretted the fact that ghosts didn’t have a need to pee and do other stuff,
because then it would have been torture. And maybe, just maybe, they
would have been more cooperative.
“You’re free to go,” I muttered, unsure of how to release them, because
I hadn’t advanced enough with Svensson for her to teach me how to banish
a ghost.
Both of them vanished.
I thought the act of banishing spirits from the Spirit Trap would make
me feel something. Maybe it did, but my system was overtaken by stings of
excitement, worry and slight irritation, so I couldn’t fully understand it.
On the bright side, I wasn’t going to fail my evocation test.
On the much brighter side, I was finally getting some answers
tomorrow, even if it meant disregarding my aunt’s pleas to not leave the
island – again – so I could visit bloodthirsty monsters who’d taken another
necromancer’s life – again.
At this point the borders between insanity, stupidity and thirst for
answers were so blurred, they basically didn’t exist.
 

Marked By Amyria
I couldn’t fall asleep all night long.
When Aurora lit up my door in emerald flames and entered uninvited, I
was fully dressed and wandering around the room like a caged animal. Her
short coat was unbuttoned and a large handbag hung from her shoulder. She
took out something resembling a matchbox before approaching me. The
box contained an ashy, powdery substance that gleamed like sunlit snow.
Aurora grabbed a generous pinch of it and sprinkled it over my head.
“What the fuuuck?” I shouted, shaking my head with the frantic
motions of a flea-infested dog.
“It’s fairy dust; don’t bother shaking it off,” she said, as if I was
supposed to know better, and put the box back in her bag. “It will mask
your true identity, but I don’t have much of it, so we can’t waste time.
We’re going straight to Administration, then we’re getting off the island.”
“Mask my identity?”
“Yes. You’ll be posing as one of my friends, Clausine Rasmussen.
We’re going to the SPA, and we’ll be gone for the rest of the day. Got it?
Let’s go.”
She grabbed my elbow. Next thing I knew, we were standing in the
middle of Administration’s office.
“Ah, Miss Nordstrøm, what can I do for you today?”
“I’m going to the SPA with Clausine, Raisa. Can you tell the guards
downstairs to expect us?”
Her casual, calm speech completely contradicted the statement that we
didn’t have time. I couldn’t stop myself from envying her self-control, like I
envied everything else about her.
 “When are you expected to return?”
“I would say by dusk?” Aurora drawled leisurely. “Hmm, could be later.
Maybe by dinner?”
Raisa wrote one of those blood messages, it disappeared, and she
smiled, this time facing me.
Please let this fairy dust crap still be in my hair! Please let her see
Aurora’s friend, not the real me!
The piece of paper reappeared to veer Raisa’s attention away. Phew!
Saved by blood magic!
“Mr. Larsen hasn’t returned from his trip yet. Who should I call in as
your Head of Team?”
Aurora shrugged. “Keitaro would be nice.”
Raisa scribbled down something before lifting her eyes to us.
“You’re all set. Mr. Keitaro will gather your guardians.”
Instead of teleporting us, Aurora simply walked out of Administration’s
office. I hurried after her, hoping the fairy dust would be just as efficient on
everyone else.
“Why doesn’t Administration use a phone instead of those blood
messages?”
“Phones can be tapped by humans or supernatural enforcement
agencies. Blood messages provide safer communication.”
“What did she mean by Larsen and Head of Team?”
“How slow can you be?! You seriously don’t know? Even after
Monika?”
“Know what?”
“Oh, for the love of Freya!” She turned, shot me a glower, then kept
going. “Some of the Larsen guardians are guardians to necromancers. To
families like mine and yours.”
“She wasn’t talking about Maksim Larsen, right?”
“Of course not! She meant Ragnar Larsen, one of Max’s older brothers.
Ragnar stays on top of my security, Max will soon join Dann’s guardians,
and the Council tried to poach Monika as part of your upcoming team,
which was obviously a bombastic fiasco.”
I also have a guardian, I actually have an entire team of guardians, and
as such, I can tell you it’s not something you should be rebelling against.
Dann had said it to me before promising the Council wasn’t going to use
someone else after Monika, at least not right away. Because they thought I
wouldn’t leave this island before I was probably fifty-fucking-years-old!
“Where are we going?” I asked as we went through a door and
descended down a spiraled staircase, similar to those leading to the
dungeons.
“Would you just shut up? How are you going to make anyone believe
you’re Clausine if you keep asking me stupid questions?”
I bit back a swear word and quietly followed her to the bottom of the
stairs, which ended with another door. Once we were on the other end, I
abruptly came to a halt.
We were standing in a parking lot.
An underground parking lot for cars, housed somewhere in the
sublevels. It took me a while to remember Monika’s explanations that there
was an underground tunnel connected to a building in midtown Stavanger.
Then I remembered what Aurora had told me yesterday – the Council had
made it impossible even for her to overpower the anti-Aperture wards. All
because of an accident we’d had with a horde of monsters.
The same monsters we were returning to now.
“Good morning, Miss Nordstrøm. Your team is waiting for you
outside.”
A male voice yanked me out of my memories. Two men in black
uniforms stood near the door we had come through. I caught up with my
partner in crime, following her deeper into the parking lot.
Aurora paused next to a white sports car, and my heart dropped in my
stomach.
Oh, no, no, no! Please let it be the Jeep next to us! Please let it be any
other car! Please be anything but this! Please don’t let my stupidity and
recklessness be contagious!
Despite my prayers, she took a smart-key out of her pocket and
unlocked the sports car. The extremely low, extremely luxurious, extremely
shiny car with a golden bull etched on its emblem.
“Aurora, have you lost your fucking mind?” I squealed in horror. “It’s
January. In Norway. In fucking Norway! And you want to drive a
Lamborghini?”
“Do you think I haven’t driven a Lamborghini in snow before?”
“It’s not meant to be driven in snow!” I squealed again. “It’s a million-
dollar sports car that’s raised… like, a nanoinch off the ground!”
 “It’s less than half a million, and it’s raised more than enough to get us
to where we’re going. Now shut up and get in.”
Freezing chills licked my spine, even though we were still inside, and I
obeyed silently. As I drew the seatbelt, my hands began shaking. Shit! This
stupid plan was getting worse by the second!
Aurora revved the engine to life, then navigated through the parking lot
towards a double garage door. While we waited for someone to open it, I
tried to think of something other than our current situation. My recklessness
was quickly giving way to common sense, which told me to get out and
forget this thing ever happened.
The door rolled up. Aurora drove off so swiftly, I was glued to the seat,
ass sinking into the leather, knees going up to my chin. We were indeed in
an underground tunnel, and the car was going so fast, the flashing lights on
both walls were merely twinkling blurs.
Oh, fuck! If she intended to drive like this in snow, I was going to be a
goner – again! Because of her – again!
FML! Did I seriously get into a car driven by the homicidal bitch who
had already killed me once? Especially when said car was a Lamborghini
and we were in snow-covered Norway? Wow. I was barely twenty-one, but
most of my brain cells were already dead.
We slowed down when exiting the tunnel, which led to another
underground parking lot.
Two black SUVs pulled on both sides of the Lambo, one of them sliding
up front, the other one tailing us from behind. If I had to guess, those were
the guardians. In a matter of seconds, we drove out onto a snowy street in
broad daylight. The shaking in my hands eased as I told myself Aurora
couldn’t keep driving like this. Not only because it was over the speeding
limit in a rural area, but also because the SUVs couldn’t keep up.
Glancing around, I noticed we had exited a gigantic contemporary
building with a sign that read Nordstrøm Industries.
“What does your family do?” I asked out loud before I could stop
myself.
“Engineering, design and construction of high-end yachts.”
It explained her impossibly expensive car, along with why her family
didn’t go bankrupt by running the castle on personal expenses.
“But before that, like in the Middle Ages? And how did you keep the
tunnel a secret for so many centuries?”
 She groaned with obvious irritation.
“Nordstrøms have had the largest shipyards in Scandinavia since before
Freya created the first necromancers. The tunnel has always been hidden
under Stavanger. My family built it in the eleventh century. Stavanger’s
rural status got upgraded from a market town to a city in the early twelfth
century, so it wasn’t hard to maintain the secret. Now stop asking me stupid
questions; you can read that in the library.”
“Okay, but outside the mundane world? What can a Nordstrøm
descendant do as a necromancer, not posing as a human?”
She wasn’t the chatty person I’d go to for information, but then again,
we shared something in common. Both of us were descendants of the first
necromancers that ever existed. Both of us had to live with the burden of
preserving our ancient lines’ greatness. Or at least I had, because my
ancestors weren’t assholes. According to Dann and Brühl, hers had been.
“It’s none of your business.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned away.
Stavanger was like any other big port city – commercial buildings,
docking areas, rows of twin houses, lots of pedestrians, some cyclers… As
we traded big boulevards for smaller streets with pavement, I wondered if
I’d see San Francisco’s slopes and its tourist-packed trams ever again.
The SUV in front swerved to the left and disappeared. A second later,
some beeping noise blasted through the stereo system. Aurora pressed a
button on the dashboard.
“Miss Nordstrøm,” a male voice echoed through the car, “you missed
our turn for the Scandic.”
“We’re not going to the Scandic, Keitaro,” Aurora replied with a casual
tone. “I want to go to the SPN Retreat. Tell the others to circle back on
Pedersgata to meet us.”
Aurora disconnected. I squinted in confusion when the SUV appeared,
after cutting the line and sliding in front of us. Unsurprisingly, the driver’s
nasty move was met by a few angered honks.
I turned to my crazy driver. “What was that about?”
“Unlike the Scandic, the SPN Retreat has a huge underground parking
and more facilities.”
“So?”
“So, idiot,” she paused to shoot me a scowling glare, “we’ll have more
than enough rooms and floors to lose them, as well as a second exit from
the parking lot.”
“I think you’ve watched too many spy movies.”
“Oh, yeah? And I think you have no idea how things work in the real
world. I get two cars and four guardians escorting me on a SPA trip.
Imagine the convoy that would have accompanied us if they thought I’d be
doing something other than lying on a massage table all day.”
Dann’s words spun in my head once again. I imagined having half a
dozen cars following me around all the time.
“How many Nordstrøms are there?”
“Eleven, excluding the ones who married and changed their names.
Keep your mouth shut until I get them off our backs.”
So, I’d probably have eleven times her escort. Un-fucking-believable!
When we reached a building in the city’s outskirts, I realized the bitch
wasn’t kidding. These guys really took their job seriously.
They made sure we were properly booked for each type of procedure,
and double-checked the numbers of the rooms we’d be visiting throughout
the day. For a split of a second I imagined them checking in on us while we
were supposedly in the middle of an aromatherapy session, and discovering
we’d taken a French leave. Fortunately, my common sense kicked in on
time, whispering how they wouldn’t dare to barge in on something like that.
Aurora bribed the girls who should have been tending to us all day long
and told them to keep it a secret from her bodyguards. I had to give it to her.
She could flirt her way through life even without bribes. The way she talked
and the way she walked… She was so fucking graceful and confident! I
wished for the ground to open and swallow me before my envy could eat
me from the inside out.
She grabbed my elbow as soon as we were alone, and Apertured us
back inside her car.
“We’re driving?” I asked in confusion. “Why don’t you teleport us to
where we’re going?”
“Because I love my car, and I get to enjoy a nice drive without having
someone tail me for the first time in months.”
Her definition of a nice drive was as far away from mine as possible.
She sped over numerous bridges and mountainous roads so fast, she
made it impossible for me to take in the sunny views of every
neighborhood. We never reached a highway, but Aurora apparently didn’t
care about the speeding limit on the European long-distance roads we
crossed. They were well-maintained, even and clean of snow, and Aurora
was a skilled driver. She navigated between lanes and other vehicles with
swift movements, took each turn smoothly, and never lost control of the car,
not even for a second. It probably had winter tires and a manual four-by-
four option, otherwise we would have crashed a million times, but I had to
admit her driving skills were yet another enviable thing about her.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t a nice drive. It was more like a high-speed
chase.
In the blink of an eye, she cut in line and swerved into a roundabout,
taking the entire fucking turn by drifting in a circle. I slapped a hand on the
dashboard to steady myself, mere seconds before we entered a tunnel.
“This isn’t a Fast and Furious movie!” I protested out loud.
“Oh, stop whining! If I follow the speed limit outside the tunnel, we’ll
be driving for at least an hour, and then we have to trek on foot until we
find a good spot!”
“Will you at least tell me where we’re going?”
“A secluded area in the Forsand municipality, close to where we were
last time, but farther away from the ley lines.”
“What’s your part of the plan?”
“We’ll summon the spirit of one of the wisest Nøkken queens,
Mayvareena, present her with an offering, and ask her about the truth.
You’ll be the one doing the summoning, because the Nøkk are predisposed
to you, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see them, and I’ll be the one
presenting the offering.”
“Offering?” I shot her bag a suspicious look. “Please tell me you
haven’t sacrificed a cute furry animal for a dead mermaid!”
“No, I haven’t, and I’ve told you before – they aren’t mermaids!”
She opened the flap with one hand, revealing a translucent jar filled
with… I wasn’t sure what it was filled with, but it was some sort of frothy
substance with a lathery layer on top. When she opened the bag a little bit
more, I noticed there was a faint silvery glow coming off a tiny lump, no
bigger than a fingernail, which laid on the bottom of the jar.
“Dyrfinna,” Aurora said quietly, closing the bag. “She was a female
Nøkken tricked into marrying my great-grandfather, and died on land a
couple of weeks ago. I’ve been meaning to bring her back to the sea, but
Monika’s been on probation and I can’t use Ragnar to take me to the other
Nøkk.”
 Wooow. I never expected a selfless cell could even exist in Aurora.
Bringing a dead Nøkken back to her family was… Wait a minute! That was
a dead Nøkken!
“Why don’t we just summon her instead of–”
“Because Nøkk who have perished on land can’t be summoned,” she
quickly cut off my excitement of having a somewhat safer day.
“Okay, but what if your great-grandfather and the rest of your family
discover her absence?”
“That’s unlikely, unless they break down her crypt in the Nordstrøm
mausoleum, which they won’t, because that’s blasphemy on our ancestors.”
I was rendered utterly speechless. She had literally broken into her
family crypts, which to my understanding were something sacred to her
family. All of it, so she could free the remains of a dead creature and bring
said remains to its real home. An extremely malicious dead creature, but
still.
“Can you teach me how to do the spell you were attempting last time?”
She laughed. “I put a deflective spell over my shield. It’s an advanced
form of defense, which cuts off the trajectory of anything that comes close
to the shield and makes it go back to where it came from. You can’t learn
that type of advanced casting even if you practice for months.”
Bitch! That spell was either too powerful for her, or she hadn’t learned
how to cast it properly, otherwise she wouldn’t have needed my Eitrhals.
I kept my thoughts to myself and my eyes on the road. Judging by the
dashboard’s clock, twenty minutes had passed since we had to slow down
and keep steady with the other vehicles.
As soon we exited the tunnel and my eyes got accustomed to the
reflective snow, I gasped.
We were on a two-lane mountain road, with high cliffs on Aurora’s side
and the vast ocean on mine. I couldn’t pay attention to the signs, but we
were in a village or a small town, and then we were in the wilderness.
With each curve of our mountain road my eyes grew wider.
The snow-covered narrow seashore cut into the water. As we kept going
down the road, the shore became broader, taller, filled with evergreen trees
and steep rocky cliffs breaking through the snowy landscapes.
We passed two more rural areas before I fully grasped where we were.
It wasn’t just some random shore that looked pretty as it jutted out into the
sea. We weren’t simply surrounded by a mountain. We were actually
driving deeper into a fjord!
“How deep are we going? Can we see the fjord from other angles?”
Her only response was a rattling growl.
We entered another tunnel, this time significantly shorter.
Its exit revealed more mountainous cliffs, more narrow inlets, and more
snowy vistas. By the time we delved deeper into the fjord’s curvy
formations and crossed over to a huge suspension bridge, I was positive we
had entered a fantastical land located somewhere far, far away from
Midgard. Both sides of the bridge held gorgeous valley-like sceneries, and I
finally saw the true meaning of Winter Wonderland.
The rocks were sprinkled with snow, with visible cracks and indents
scattered here and there. They made the snowcaps appear like mosaics with
jagged geometrical figures, almost as if they were puzzle pieces waiting to
be glued together. Coniferous trees were nestled in some areas, bathing the
grey rocks in splashes of deep green colors. The sea barely rippled,
reflecting soft sunlight that broke from the clouds, and the water surface’s
cold blues mirrored every protruding shore.
I wanted to roll down the window, stick my head out like an excited
Labrador, and take in as much as I could. Aurora had probably turned some
safety feature on, because the button wasn’t working.
The Golden Gate Bridge and the waterscapes of San Francisco Bay
were picturesque at nighttime with thousands of pretty lights, but this right
here was stunning. This was pure, untouched, virgin nature; and I bet the
skies were crystal clear at night, never obstructed by a single inch of a
megapolis’ light pollution.
“Can you please go slower?” I whispered, pressing my face to the
window. “Please, please, pleeease go slower!”
“Hey, Swallow, here’s an idea – shut the fuck up!”
“It’s pronounced Lee-ya-reen, not Swallow.”
“Yeah, and last time I checked, it was pronounced Aurora, not Tourist
Guide.”
Determined not to allow her bitchiness to ruin the scenery’s beauty, I
kept staring through the window, silently admiring the fjord’s grandeur.
Then it came. That fated moment when she parked the car, told me to
get out, and led me on foot directly through the uneven snowdrifts.
 We reached a low cliff, notably even, at least in comparison to our
hiking trail. She pulled a folded sheet of paper out of that bag, then handed
it to me. It held a large lacework of tangled symbols and rune-like
markings, drawn in a circular pattern around a pentagram. It resembled a
Spirit Trap, but the symbols were reversed and scattered outside the
pentagram instead of in it.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, studying the new symbols.
While I’d been examining the paper, she had drawn a huge circle in the
snow-covered ground using a branch.
“Norse rune magic for extra precaution. We’ll stay in this circle and the
spirit won’t be able to get inside. The runes will bind her to our plane. Go
find a piece of wood or something and start drawing.”
I looked around for a makeshift pen, then remembered Brühl’s words.
Sucking in a breath of wintry air, I lifted my right hand and pointed to the
ground. An incorporeal force started replicating the lacework by blowing
away the snow. Carving the runes with my air element, I painted, leaving
deep cuts and indents all the way to the natural browns and greys of the
rocks beneath us.
“Show-off,” Aurora muttered, dragging her branch inside the circle to
form the pentagram.
I bit back my response and moved on to replicating the next rune.
With each new step, the snow under us creaked and screeched. I
instantly remembered those scraping sounds the Nøkk’s nails produced
when their claws were being dragged over serrated rocks. Fear crept
through me, settling in like frostbite, prickly and stinging, not leaving a
single inch of my skin at ease.
This was one of the dumbest ideas I had ever gotten in my entire life!
“Can’t we summon something else?” I asked, hoping blondie here could
think of another creature to serve the Nøkken queen spirit’s purpose.
Aurora turned, gave me a quick head-to-toe glare, and stretched her face
in a leering smile.
“Did I hear that right? Is the great Learyn Dustrikke afraid of evoking a
spirit?”
Clenching my jaw, I got back to drawing those symbols. My hatred for
Aurora effortlessly mixed with my fear, like they were best fucking
buddies. This was not the proper mental state for summonings! I either had
to get my shit together really fast, or I had to figure out another way to get
some answers.
“Why can’t it be dead unicorns?” I asked woefully. “Or dead… well,
anything really? Does it have to be a fucking Nøkken?”
I loathed every single Nøkken.
Those mermaid bitches almost led to my untimely demise. If it were up
to me, their dead relative would have stayed fucking dead for all of eternity.
Sadly, as I drew defensive runes on the rocky ground beneath me, I
knew there was no way around this. We were about to summon a monstrous
spirit from the depths of the Norwegian Sea. Regardless of my lack of
desire for meeting with said spirit, it had to be done.
But it didn’t mean I was going down willingly.
“Okay, then how about a dead reindeer? Wanna go to Finland and
resurrect one of Rudolph’s cousins?”
“Just do it, Swallow!” Aurora hissed in my direction.
If looks could kill, my glare would have scorched Aurora to her very
core and spread the cinders of her essence as far away from the
Scandinavian Peninsula as possible. Preferably all the way to another
planet, but hey, I wasn’t the greedy type.
“Fine!” I gritted my teeth and took a deep, slow breath, turning my face
towards the water surface. “And stop using that stupid nickname!”
I could have uttered the word please if I wasn’t speaking to Aurora. But
let’s face it, the only female creature in all Nine Realms that was worse than
a Nøkken was this blonde bimbo. Taking another breath, I pushed Aurora’s
presence out of my head and made my way towards the serrated edge where
the water touched the stumpy cliffs.
It seemed as if the sea could feel the ensnaring bind of necromancy
coming off us. All of its waves had calmed down shortly after we started
drawing the symbols. Now it stood unnaturally tranquil and otherworldly,
completely still with bated breath, foreboding the horrors that were yet to
come.
“Would you quit goofing around with the ocean and focus on your
evocation?”
I frowned. “Huh?”
“Stop making the waters as still as death!”
The ironic comparison left aside, her words didn’t make any sense. How
could I influence such a huge body of water? My water element hadn’t
broken out. I would have sensed it. When it happened with fire and air, the
entire experience was extremely painful. I would have remembered if
another elemental force had broken out.
But this was yet another thing I had to worry about later.
“Mayvareena, wise and just Nøkken queen, I summon you,” I repeated
the words Aurora had instructed me to say for summoning a Nøkken who
had supposedly died in the nineteenth century.
The pull from behind my navel came at once. My bitchy companion
took a step towards the edge, kneeling down, and held the jar with arms
outstretched forward. I realized in absolute horror that her fingers were
outside our pentagram’s bounds.
“Wise and just Mayvareena, we’ve come to bring Dyrfinna back to
you,” Aurora almost sang.
“For the sake of one good action, a hundred evil ones shall not be
forgotten.”
The voice appeared out of thin air, carried over the waters. The
reflective and tranquil surface didn’t budge an inch when a translucent
woman, made of ashy outlines and highlights, emerged from the ocean. I
had never seen someone or something emerge like that from a water basin –
like they were cutting through the sea.
Her clothes, much like the rest of her body, were completely see-
through. She came to us in her beautiful iridescent form. Her tail was
hidden under a long dress. Ethereal veils draped her hands and skirts. The
ghost and her veils floated freely in the air in graceful, flowy motions,
which for some weird reason reminded me of lazy swimming.
I attempted something between a bow and a curtsy, then decided to cut
the shit and leave the worshipping to Aurora. She opened her jar, spoke a
conjuration in a foreign language, and poured the lathery contents into the
ocean.
“Please accept our humble peace offering,” she said in an almost
chanting manner, still kneeling on the shore.
“Albeit not rectifying the abuse your family has inflicted, the offering
has been accepted.”
“Mayvareena,” I spoke before those two decided to keep exchanging
civilities. “We’ve also come to ask you some questions, since you might be
the only one who knows the truth. Can you tell us who Amyria is?”
 Little Miss Every Man’s Wet Dream shot me such a menacing glare, I
wasn’t sure which was scarier – the Nøkken queen’s real form, or Aurora.
“Would you be so kind to explain why the Nøkk tried to kill us?” I
opted for a different question.
The apparition grew silent, floating eerily above the surface, while the
veils of her translucent clothes swirled around her, rippled by the breezy
winds. I waited, but her lips remained just as lifeless as her corporeal form
had been for centuries. Ooh, I was so fucking done with being nice and
formal!
“Speak the fuck up, Casper!” I snarled in her direction. “I’m not leaving
until I get specific answers!”
Aurora turned her back to the Nøkken, and marched towards me.
“Please excuse her language,” she quickly apologized on my behalf
after coming to a halt a few feet away from me. “She meant to say we can’t
leave because you are the only one who’s versed in the truth we’re
seeking.”
“Answers I can give,” Mayvareena spoke evenly, “in spite of these
manners.”
Manners be damned! I was in no mood for foreplay. I hadn’t agreed to
spend all day with my wannabe arch enemy for a lesson in manners. My
problem with authority was something even the Council couldn’t eradicate.
Casper simply didn’t stand a chance.
“Thank you!” I nagged sarcastically. “Why did your kind try to kill us?”
“They did not. Sons and daughters of the Great Oceans are not
murderers. We live for peace and beauty, arts and knowledge. We strive
when the world around us strives.”
Peace and beauty, my ass! I hadn’t come all this way to have an ancient
water spirit’s actual spirit dick around with me.
“Be respectful!” Aurora hissed. Had she guessed my thoughts?
“One of your kind tried to pull me under the water, dug her claws into
my leg and poisoned me, then an entire horde of Nøkk tore a girl to death. I
call that attempted murder accompanied by successful murder.”
The apparition pointed at me, setting the veils wrapped around her arm
afloat.
“Your family was marked by Amyria. You are marked by Amyria. My
children only wished to take you with them before Amyrians do.”
 “Who is Amyria?” I asked the million-dollar question once again,
hoping I’d get a clear answer before I had to ask it for the millionth time.
“It is a place, not a who, far beyond our own. A realm filled with
otherworldly creatures, different from ones you know. Magic benders in
pursuit of power, revenge and vanity.”
So, contrary to what I had thought since November, Amyria wasn’t a
power or a being, but a realm.
“What do these Amyrians have to do with me?”
The translucent hand flew in the air gracefully, fixing an index finger on
Aurora. “Her family’s greed bears responsibility for their actions.”
I squinted at Aurora, who was still standing a few feet away from me.
She immediately furrowed in my direction before I got the chance to ask.
“Yeah, my family has done some shit in the past. So, what? Whose
hasn’t?”
“What the fuck did your family do?”
She shrugged. “Many things. I don’t know which one can link to
Amyria.”
I turned to the other Queen Bitch, who seemed to know more than
Aurora. And her brother. And Monika’s mother. And maybe even Hallvard.
But it didn’t matter whether Hallvard knew the truth or not anymore, and
whether he was lying about it.
“Amyrians lust after a new world, one to be created in their image,” the
apparition said without me having to ask.
If I hadn’t been so aggravated lately and so overemotional in general, I
would have noted her sudden and unnatural willingness to respond.
“I thought Amyrians were after Asgard.”
“When Ragnarök commences and Asgard falls, the multiverse will not
come to an end. It is foretold sons of Odin shall see the light after the forces
of evil are overthrown, and they will be greeted by Freya of the Vanir, who
shall not partake in the battle. Every soul under her protection shall survive
the end of a world to watch the gods as they rebuild a new one from the
ashes.”
“And Amyrians want that world to be created in their image,” I repeated
her words. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“When we die for good,” Aurora whispered, “our souls are meant to
enter Sessrúmnir. We would survive Ragnarök alongside Freya, because we
would be in her plains. If Amyrians want to rule over the new world, they
would have to kill every Ragnarök survivor, including us.”
“I wasn’t asking you, but thanks.” I bared my teeth at Aurora, then fixed
my attention back on the Nøkken. “Why are they after my family when
there are so many other necromancers to choose from?”
“How stupid can you be?” Aurora hissed, replying once again on behalf
of the Nøkken. “Freya’s blood and our souls’ eitr serve as our key to the
gates of Sessrúmnir; that’s why we can enter it. You’re a pureblood
Dustrikke, so do the math!”
“Then why aren’t you marked by Amyria too, genius?” I snapped back.
“Aren’t you a pureblood witch like me?”
“Of course I am, idiot!”
The Nøkken queen interrupted our banter.
“Her family has provided Amyrians with a Nordstrøm’s essence, for it
was a Nordstrøm necromancer who Wandered into their realm in pursuit of
power and gave away the secret path to Sessrúmnir.”
Aurora gasped. “How do you know this?”
“I am born out of Njord’s magnanimity.”
Njord? Where had I read that name? Njord… Njord was the father of
Freya, and one of the few Vanir deities residing in Asgard. Njord was the
Norse god of the sea. Oh, fuck! So, that Nøkken nonsense wasn’t nonsense
at all. Everything the spirit believed in was true, because she had a more
reliable source than Hallvard – an actual god. And why would a god lie to
his creation?
There are forces in Midgard and beyond it, and for them we,
necromancers, and our eitr, are just pawns in a larger game. Monika had
told me that when she’d come clean about her lies. Carlynderians,
Amyrians… What else was out there?
“If they’re after my bloodline and they already have a Nordstrøm’s
essence, they must also be after a Veland’s essence,” I concluded out loud.
The Nøkken nodded. “There haven’t been any Velands for centuries. Why
are Amyrians chasing me, when they know they can’t use a descendant of
the deceased bloodline?”
“Are you familiar with the nature of the Valraven, daughter of
Dustrikke?”
What the hell was a Valraven? And why did every answer lead to more
questions and the search for more answers? With a frustrated groan, I closed
eyes in an attempt to sort out my priorities. Ask the old questions. Get their
unsatisfying answers leading to new questions. Then ask the new questions.
“Was my aunt Adaline Dustrikke also marked by Amyrians? Did they
kill her?”
“Yes. Nevertheless, they did not gain the key they sought in her. Amyria
shall invade Asgard and precipitate the world into Ragnarök only after it
possesses the key to Sessrúmnir.”
“But how can I give them whatever it is they want with my blood and
my eitr, if my aunt’s couldn’t?”
“Every once in a while, a weakling is born into this world, a child
bearing less eitr in their soul, possessing little to no magic, often inept at
controlling it.”
“What, like an Ailing? Are you saying my aunt was an Ailing?”
The apparition swayed her head to the side. “If that is what you call
weaklings among your kind.”
Whoa! Each new day brought a new revelation, and each revelation was
crazier than the last one. Still, the last thing I expected to hear was that my
own aunt – one of the strongest and most resilient people I had ever met –
was a magical weakling.
“Do you know if I ran off to Norway because I’m also being hunted by
Amyrians? Or is it because of something else?”
“The last daughter of Dustrikke flees from many perils; they know not
the bounds of Midgard.”
“Is this why my aunt put me under Nordstrøm Island’s protection?
Because of the otherworldly threats on my life?”
“Many are the perils from without, yet more are held within the island
of Nordstrøm.”
“What? I don’t… You just said they didn’t know the bounds of
Midgard, which means they come from somewhere outside of our realm,
right? Can you drop the riddles and be more specific? And what do you
mean by within the island?”
“Specifics I cannot give, for the Valraven’s ways are obscured from the
ocean’s sight.”
Was she for fucking real? Again with this Valraven thing? Just as I
suspected Aurora would show off with her know-it-all megalomania again,
she stepped forward, coming between me and the spirit.
“We’re leaving! Now!”
 “Move, bitch!” I yelled, pushing her aside without bothering to keep my
emotions in check.
Which was a huge, huge mistake.
My annoyance, frustration and burning thirst for more answers were so
severe, that when I pushed Aurora away, I didn’t just hit her with a physical
blow. I accidentally hit her with a magical burst. Not that she didn’t deserve
to be hit, but I never meant to send her flying across the fjord’s inlet.
I watched my air element sweep her away and fly her out of all
protections and defenses we had carved into the snow. It carried her over
the edge, then over the waters, until she fell on her elbow on another cliff –
one that was perched atop the ocean in the far distance, nestled at least a
hundred yards away from me.
Shit on shit, on double fucking shit!
She slowly stood up, glancing around and taking in the full severity of
my actions. The waters between us rose and rippled, disturbed by the
appearance of dozens and dozens of real, corporeal and fully alive Nøkk.
And she couldn’t see even a single one of them.
Triple fucking shit!
“Aurora!” I screamed. “The water is filled with live Nøkk!”
Before I could even finish my sentence, a hazy mist spread above the
surface, making my vision murky. Apparitions. Numerous apparitions, just
like the one of the Nøkken queen, were now hiding Aurora from my sight.
I ran to the side, close to the pentagram’s outlines, and the air around
me trembled, as if being stirred by an invisible hand.
“Are all of them outside the shield?” Aurora’s yell rang in my ears.
Right then and there I was glad she wasn’t the bleach blonde bimbo she
appeared to be.
“Yes!” I yelled back, trying to find a way out of yet another mess I had
created.
Aurora had probably cast another shield around herself, but it didn’t
really matter, because every single one of the live, iridescent Nøkk was
looking at me. Perfect. Fucking perfect!
“My children will do you no harm, daughter of Nordstrøm, solely
because you have brought Dyrfinna back to us. Return to where you came
from safely. We cannot let the other one go. Should Amyrians discover the
last daughter of Dustrikke is alive, our world will perish.”
 So, Amyrians also didn’t know I existed? Wow! My family had done an
awesome job hiding me from the supernatural world.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” I shouted, drawing the ghost’s
attention away from Aurora. “I asked you a question! Answer me!”
“I have given you answers. Now it is time for you to join us.”
“Join you?”
“Yes. Should Amyrians find you, my kind will cease to exist.”
“Come here!” Aurora screamed over the crashing waves. “I can’t see
the live ones!”
“I can’t teleport properly yet!”
“Follow us willingly, and you will be granted the protection of the
boundless oceans.”
I turned to Mayvareena. “What did you say?”
She beckoned to me, then gestured to her chest.
“Come willingly, daughter of Dustrikke, for we wish no harm to you.
We are peaceful by nature, yet we will take you with us coercively if need
be.”
“Did you just fucking tell me to go over there and drown willingly?”
Peaceful by nature, my ass! The bitch was so not getting away with this!
“Marked by Amyria… Marked by Amyria…”
The live Nøkk sang, but their dreamy voices no longer had an
enchanting effect on me, not after I had seen the monsters’ true nature.
“Turn that fucking song off, and answer me!”
The chanting got louder. Marked by Amyria. It sounded like it was
coming from everywhere. Marked by Amyria. With each vowel, the
irritation storming inside me also increased. Marked by Amyria.
“I can’t hold the shields’ deflection magic if I can’t see them!”
“Come with us, daughter of Dustrikke.”
“Marked by Amyria.”
“Follow us before it is too late. It is the modus to deter Ragnarök.”
“Marked by Amyria.”
“I can’t hold them off!”
“Marked by Amyria.”
Aurora wasn’t lying. Mayvareena’s apparition kept floating over the
same spot, as did the other ghosts, but the live Nøkk were closing in, still
chanting that freakishly unnerving song.
“Get the fuck away from me!”
 I snarled at the front row, blasting an air current directly at them. I
didn’t even stop to wonder if I could penetrate the shield from the inside,
but apparently it worked, because the Nøkk swung back, falling over the
ones behind them.
“What’s happening? I can’t see anything!”
I wanted to be blind to the Nøkk as well, because what came next
enraged me even further.
The air draft had swept the closest ones back, but the monsters behind
them were literally clawing their way through the horde, climbing over their
kind, reaching for the shield. Not only did the deflecting magic not work,
but with each passing second the air around Aurora’s incorporeal shield
shivered, like the dome was closing in.
“Go away!” I outshouted the beating on my eardrums, then hurled a
new air blast ahead.
Marked by Amyria. Marked by Amyria. Marked by Amyria.
The arrhythmic pounding sped up. More Nøkk closed in around the
dome. Casper refused to give me an answer. Aurora kept shouting. The
roaring emotions in my core added to the deafening cacophony. And the
song… Oh, that fucking song!
“SHUT UP!” I yelled, and the skies above us rumbled with each of my
words.
“Marked by Amyria… Marked by Amyria…”
More Nøkk emerged from the ocean. Aurora’s yelling abused my
eardrums. The skies kept roaring with thunders. The snow did nothing to
dampen down the noises. My heart bashed against its ribcage with the same
infuriated rhythm.
I screamed. My voice got lost among the chanting. The song only
increased with each step the creatures took while pushing the shield,
squeezing, deforming it, pressing it like it was a translucent balloon that
was about to burst any moment.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
I thought I’d performed some crazy stupidity by blasting Aurora earlier.
What I did next was beyond the measure of the highest form of insane shit
I’d ever seen.
People spoke about how tides turned, and they meant it figuratively. But
what unraveled before my eyes was quite literal.
 A reverse tidal wave belched out of nowhere, sucking in everything in
its path. The wave trapped all Nøkk in its current, swept the waters from the
shore, literally pulling the ocean away into the distant horizon, and dragged
every living being away with it.
All that was left for miles and miles ahead was an empty seabed of
sand, rock, pebbles, seashells, and something eerily resembling the pointy
bones of dead marine creatures.
Gasping for air, I fell on the rocky shore.
“What did you do?” Aurora shrieked, teleporting right before me.
“I wasn’t… going… to… let them… drag me… to this shit!” I panted,
pointing at the pile of rocks and carcasses.
“What if you hurt the live ones?”
A twisted sort of laughter escaped from my lips. “To hell… with the
live ones! And to hell with… the dead ones!”
“It is the modus to deter Ragnarök,” Mayvareena’s voice spoke again
like a broken record.
Getting back up and catching my breath, I looked directly into her
transparent dead eyes.
“Come with us. Amyrians cannot know about your existence.”
“I said get the fuck away from me, bitch!” I snarled, curling my hands
into fists so savagely, my nails drew blood.
A surge of thunder spread through me, like lightning bolts branching
out to every inch of my limbs. The Nøkken queen, and every other
apparition she had drawn out, dispersed into the cold winter air, leaving no
traces of floating veils behind.
Now I understood why she was willing to provide us with information.
She hadn’t intended on me ever leaving this place with said information.
Because it didn’t matter what you shared with the dead, even when – quite
ironically – the dead one was supposed to be a necromancer.
Little did she know, she had chosen to mess with the wrong
necromancer!
Bitch Number Two grabbed my elbow and materialized us inside her
vehicle. She had parked off the main road, but the shores were visible from
her secluded parking spot. Everything was empty – no waters, just empty
inlets with a seabed that reminded me of an apocalyptic wasteland. I didn’t
know exactly how far off the battleground we were, but I couldn’t see any
traces of the ocean.
 It finally dawned on me that I had created the worst fucking mess in my
entire life.
“Tsunami,” I whispered with bated breath.
“What? What is it now? Can’t you shut up for two minutes?”
The glove compartment was open. Aurora was rummaging through its
contents, almost leaning over my knees.
“A tsunami,” I repeated. “When the tide returns, it will become a
tsunami. How many people live on this shore?”
“I’m taking care of it,” she growled out, pulling a piece of paper and a
tiny dagger, which she used to slash her index finger open. “I’ll send an
anonymous tip, and a NESE squad will clean up your mess.”
Whatever a NESE squad was – probably a supernatural cleaning
organization which prevented humans from finding about magic – I simply
had to take her word for it. I was too shaken by what had happened to ask
more questions.
“If I were you, I’d start packing. You’ve caused plenty of damage to
Nordstrøm Island and the Zolotov Academy, as well as to magical and non-
magical residents of Norway. Go back to your America!”
“You can’t kick me off the island!” I protested just as she sent her blood
message.
“If there’s a single humane cell in your body, you’ll leave on your own.
You don’t have the slightest idea of the number of lives you’re
endangering!”
Seriously? She was the one giving me a lecture on endangering lives?
The one who had killed me for fun? The one who put those monstrous
Nøkk before her family’s sacred vaults?
“Aurora!” I gasped, suddenly remembering something. “When the
Nøkken queen mentioned the Valraven the first time, you didn’t say
anything, but when she mentioned it again, you told me to leave.”
“For the love of the goddess! Don’t change the subject!”
“Do you seriously expect of your uncle to let me go? Even if I snuck
out and ran off to the other side of the world, he’d find a way to bring his
precious Dustrikke back! Or did you forget I’m the last one of my
bloodline?”
She glared at me silently, then ignited the car. Apparently, she had
indeed forgotten.
We took off in silence.
 I expected the tidal wave to come back and crash over the deserted
fjord’s shores, as well as over the road on which we were currently driving.
But the tsunami never came. After we passed the bridge, I understood why.
The waters were slowly filling the seabed, gently and gracefully, as if the
land was a bathtub being fed by a running faucet. That NESE squad was
fast!
“Look, I know you’re angry, but I really am sorry for everything that
happened since I came to Norway. I’m sorry I hurt a guy with my Draug,
I’m sorry your friend died, and I’m sorry the Council had to deal with my
shit on numerous occasions. I’m also sorry for the troubles I’ve caused to
these poor people living nearby.”
“Your I’m-sorrys don’t fix anything!”
Her words reminded me of something I had told Monika a while back.
Despite my resentment for Aurora, I really was sorry for all the messes I
had created in her world. Not because of her feelings, but because of
everyone else’s.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I asked another one of the many
questions which had been bothering me for months.
“Look at yourself! Who wouldn’t hate you?”
As always, she hit right in the core of my insecurities.
“Listen, bitch! I’ve tried to be civilized and I’ve tried to behave around
you. I’ve saved your fucking ass twice, while all I want to do when I think
of you is stick my stiletto in your eyeball! The least you can do is tell me
what you know about the Valraven, since I’ll be apparently dying in order
to be used as an instrument to cause the end of the world!”
She groaned, still staring at the road. Unlike before, we were moving at
a moderate speed on the way back.
“Fine, I’ll tell you. You know how the name of Freya’s mother is
scrubbed from all records?” My expression was probably eloquent enough,
because she snarled. “Oh, for the love of the Vanir! Of course you don’t
know!”
I didn’t reply, holding back a swear word.
“Freya’s family tree is basically erased from history, apart from her
father Njord, her brother Freyr, her husband Od, and their two daughters,
Gersemi and Hnoss. There are speculations that Freya’s mother was a Vanir
goddess, named Nertha, who was Njord’s sister and had an incestuous
relationship with him. She remained in Vanaheim when Njord, Freya and
Freyr moved to Asgard. An old legend claims Njord and his sister had
another child together – a female firstborn Vanir, named Vala.”
I nodded, even though I had no idea where she was going with this.
“According to the legend, Vala was envious of her younger siblings and
the way they thrived in their supposed captivity in Asgard.”
“The Vanir are prisoners in Asgard?”
“No, idiot, they are free to roam Asgard and have more power than they
held in Vanaheim! They went willingly as a token of the truce that was
called after the Vanir-Aesir wars. Seriously, we have one of the most
extensive libraries in this realm! It’s the largest one in the entire Northern
Hemisphere! Don’t you ever read?”
“I do! But I didn’t study Norse mythology in the human world. What
else does the legend say?”
“Vala thought by being Njord’s firstborn, she should’ve been the one to
thrive in the realm of the mighty Aesir by serving as one of Odin’s most
trusted allies instead of Freya. Her envy and desire to walk into Asgard
threatened to spark a new war between the gods. So, Freya asked her
mother to banish Vala from Vanaheim and send her to one of the few realms
Freya saw as beautiful and flourishing – Midgard.”
I instinctively looked through the windows, taking in our surroundings.
The fjord’s inlets were restored to all of their former glory, and I understood
why Freya saw our world as beautiful.
“Midgard weakened Vala’s powers,” Aurora continued, “and she
wandered around for millennia in the form of a raven.”
Glancing at Aurora, I finally made the connection between Vala and the
Valraven. “Okay, I get why Ariel Senior and her kin were afraid to talk
about the Valraven, since she’s a freaking goddess. But I still don’t
understand what all of this has to do with me.”
“You know who Minora Veland is, at the very least, right? Minora and
her family settled in Denmark in the eleventh century. During King Harald
Hardrada’s rule of Norway, he invaded numerous foreign lands and claimed
the Danish and English thrones. While humans were at war, the
supernatural world fought their own wars, some of which were bound with
the human ones. Minora died at the beginning of the eleventh century, just
before King Harald’s time. What was left of the Veland line died in a single
battle in Demark during Harald’s invasions on the Danes.”
 I rolled my eyes with a sigh. Dann made History fun and exciting. His
sister made History sound like… History.
“And then what?”
“If you take the time to educate yourself, you’ll see that many songs,
poems and tales have been written about said battle. The skies darkened, as
hundreds of ravens flew in, and the grounds were soaked with crimson
rivers. Ravens have always been known for their affinity for shiny objects
and for feasting on dead flesh, but the few Danes who survived the battle
couldn’t have known those ravens weren’t a flock of ordinary birds.”
Aurora didn’t take her eyes off the road and the car still moved at a
moderate speed, but there was a visible strain in her hands. She was
gripping the wheel way too tightly, like she was a newbie driver who had
started taking driving classes yesterday. She felt uneasy, and I didn’t need
Sentinel powers to guess it.
“It was Vala in her raven form, leading an unkindness of ravens with
her, wasn’t it?” I asked quietly.
“I suppose so,” she replied with a flat tone, “because that’s the only
explanation for what followed next.”
“What followed next?”
“Denmark won, despite the casualties. Here’s where the Danish legend
of the Valraven myth originates from – when the Danes tried to chase the
ravens away to gather and burn the deceased, the birds transformed into
human men; all of them dressed, armed and riding as knights. All, but one
raven. It remained soaring in the sky as the knights cut down everyone who
tried to stand between the raven and its feast. That’s the Danish legend of
the Valraven – a supernatural raven who can transform into a knight after it
eats the heart of those who have fallen into battle.”
If someone had told me the story a few months ago, I probably would
have shivered down to my very core.
But picturing the bloody battle now, I didn’t get any nausea, anxiety or
any of the other necrophobia-like symptoms I used to experience. In some
twisted, perverted way I had Aurora to thank for my progress. If it wasn’t
for her, I never would have faced death up close and personal. Twice. And
while I didn’t actually see myself dying when Aurora took my life away, I
did get a front-row experience with her friend’s death.
“Okay, so, the Valraven is actually Freya’s vengeful older sister Vala,
who was banished to Midgard. She has some freaky shapeshifting powers
and wants to invade Asgard. Let’s circle back to the Amyrians. They don’t
have the Veland fragment of the key. Is that why Mayvareena asked me if I
was familiar with the nature of the Valraven? Because the Valraven has it?”
Aurora locked eyes with me for the first time since she started telling
the story.
Apparently, the ability to slap on an impenetrable expressionless mask
was a trait which ran in her family, because she made the same stony face
I’d seen her brother use.
“I’m not a Wanderer, Aurora, I can’t Wander into your sleep or
subconsciousness later and try to guess what you’re thinking!”
She sighed and fixed her eyes back on the road.
“Minora Veland ascended to Valhalla with her sisters Aia and Linnea,
while their families remained here until it was their time to depart. But the
Veland family members, who died during the battle, didn’t ascend to
Valhalla or any place in Asgard. Their souls were lost to Freya and Odin.
Necromancers weren’t able to bring any of them back to life, let alone
summon their spirits. Whatever bits the ravens left of their bodies, were laid
to rest in the crypt beneath the European Magistrate’s Citadel, out of respect
for the aid they provided while fighting against corrupt wizards and other
supernatural beings. That Eitrhals you’re wearing is one of the only three
ever created – one for each of the first three families. The eitr locked in
them is the eitr extracted from Minora, Aia and Linnea’s souls. The Veland
Eitrhals was never recovered from the battleground, even though it was
worn at all times by a Veland family member, including on that battlefield.”
I took out my Eitrhals, holding the pendant between my fingers.
In certain moments, when I didn’t want to carry the weight of people’s
expectations, the pendant felt heavier. Now, I felt like if I let it hang freely
on its chain, I’d suffocate under the weight pressing over my chest.
“This isn’t just pure eitr,” I whispered, trying to swallow the lump
nestled in my throat. “It’s eitr from the soul of my ancestor.”
“How can you be so clueless? Didn’t Monika tell you whose eitr you’re
carrying on your neck?”
“Monika didn’t tell me many things.”
“A word of advice – you should transfer to a supernatural school. If not
for something else, at least do it for Monika. She’ll make a terrible
guardian.”
 It sounded as though she was saying it out of taking pity on Monika, but
I knew the real reason behind her advice.
“Why are you so hell-bent on getting rid of me?”
“I don’t like you.”
“Yeah, you made it crystal clear from the first time I saw you with that
loving gaze you shot in my direction! I just don’t get why.”
She decided I wasn’t worthy of an answer and didn’t say anything for
the rest of the trip. I remained silent as well, trying to come up with another
reason for being endangered by the Valraven, other than the only motive I
could think of.
We approached a larger rural area from the ones we’d passed, and I
realized we were in Stavanger.
I didn’t have enough time to see much of the city before we swerved
into the SPN Retreat’s underground parking. When I got out of the car, I
hurried ahead and stepped in front of Aurora, barring her way.
She knit her eyebrows with annoyance. “What?”
“I want you to confirm or rebuff my theory. If I understand correctly,
I’m endangered by the Valraven because she’s after me. The only way I’d
be useful for getting her into Sessrúmnir is through my necromantic blood
and eitr. She took the Veland Eitrhals, which means she’ll probably also
want the Dustrikke family heirloom.”
“Yes.” Aurora eased her frown and lowered her voice. “Maybe. I don’t
know, but it seems that way. And if it’s the Dustrikke Eitrhals she wants,
then she’s also set her sight on the Nordstrøm one.”
“How can you be sure she’s really Vala?”
“I read about Vala many years ago in a book locked in the Warded
Sections. I never linked her to an old Danish legend about a supernatural
raven which feeds on dead people and transforms into a knight, not until
today.”
“And how can you be sure the Valraven from the legend is real?”
“Wake up, idiot! In our world myths are real! Besides, the Nøkken
queen said it herself.”
“But what good would the necklaces serve the Valraven? Why not just
murder any other Dustrikke and any other Nordstrøm through all these
centuries? Why now, why me, why the necklaces?”
“What better way to get into Sessrúmnir than through the essence of
Freya’s first creations?”
 I twisted the pendant between my fingers. Strange, how something so
small held such immense power.
“Where is the Nordstrøm Eitrhals now?”
Aurora crossed her arms over her chest. “Safe.”
“Is that why she’s suddenly set her aim on me? Because the Council
took my Eitrhals out of safety, so they could give it to me?”
She didn’t reply. I licked my lips, trying to wrap my mind around
everything I had learned today.
“Sooo… the Valraven wants me because I can give her the Dustrikke
fragments of the key, but she also needs the Nordstrøm fragments.
Amyrians want me for the same reason, but they also need the Veland
fragments. Each side has something the other needs, and each side lacks the
thing only I can give them.”
“Took you long enough.”
“What I mean is, Amyrians want something the Valraven has. Why
don’t they target her the way they’re targeting Sessrúmnir and call it a day?
Why haven’t they killed her already? Why go after me before they go after
the Veland fragments? It doesn’t make sense for them to be waiting around
for me.”
“Do you even hear yourself? The Valraven is a goddess! They can’t just
kill her!”
“Then how can they force Ragnarök and kill the other gods and
goddesses?”
She remained quiet, staring somewhere above my head, with a pensive
crease between her eyes.
For the first time, I had a chance to study her in a good close-up for
more than a few seconds. Although the Nordstrøm siblings shared similar
facial features, Aurora had fuller lips than her brother; and unlike him, she
slightly pouted when she was contemplating on something. FML! She
looked like the manifestation of every man’s wet dream even when she was
grimacing.
“According to many prophesies, Odin will fall during Ragnarök,” she
broke the silence at last, keeping her gaze above my head. “The wolf Fenrir
will be released from his prison, and he’ll attack the Asgardians, murdering
Odin in the process. If I have to guess, Amyrians won’t try to kill the
survivors, since the easiest way would be to free Fenrir and make sure he
leaves no survivors.”
 A, I was impressed she had managed to come to such groundbreaking
end-of-the-world conclusions so quickly. B, I was terrified she could think
like a super villain. C, I had read about Fenrir’s horrifying nature, but the
way Miss Perfection was handling this entire situation seemed unnaturally
calm, which made her even more terrifying.
Suddenly, she reached for her bag, took out the box with the fairy dust
and sprinkled my head with more of it.
“Aurora, can Amyrians invade Nordstrøm Island?”
“No. We have wards against all sorts of external invasive forces, while
if something happens from the inside, like your Draug, our detectors will
immediately go off.”
And on top of that, a quiet voice spoke inside my head, they don’t even
know you exist.
“Can the Valraven invade the island? She’s a goddess, after all.”
“I don’t think so, but either way, you should get as far away from
Scandinavia as you can. Think beyond America. Better yet, there are
supernatural schools on otherworldly planes beyond Midgard; why don’t
you go to one of those? That will put a sufficient distance between you and
the Valraven. Besides, this way Amyrians won’t know where you are. The
way I see it, it’s in your best interest to get the hell out of my sight.”
“Aww, and here I thought we were starting to become besties!” I
snapped at her, with blazing rage pouring from every syllable.
At least I had my reasons for hating the bitch, but I still had no clue why
she loathed me from day one.
 

The Descending E In C Minor

I had no idea how Aurora was taking the aftermath of our latest meeting
with the Nøkk, or how the alleged truth about the Valraven was affecting
her.
My mind kept painting nightmarish sceneries of dead bodies on the
battlefield, being ripped open and eaten by ravens. Claws and beaks digging
deep into warm flesh, tearing it, searching for the core. Twisting and turning
under the covers, I spent the entire night picturing horrifying things.
I knew sleep was necessary for facing the first of my two mandatory
tests, but when the break of dawn illuminated my room, I was still fully
awake. My mentor had explained – laconically – that every January the
Council tested every island resident if they deemed him or her as someone
with underdeveloped, dangerous and uncontrollable magic. How many
were going to be tested? And how badly was I going to screw up, compared
to the rest?
Climbing out of bed, I dragged myself to the bathroom with a heavy
stride. I hadn’t slept for two nights in a row, and it showed. On the bright
side, it wasn’t like I had someone to doll up for.
Dann, a voice whispered in an almost scolding manner.
After I’d spent a day with his sister, Aurora’s presence subconsciously
made me think about His Excellency.
I hadn’t given much thought to what had happened the last time I’d seen
him. My common sense deduced he had hit his head during one of those
fights so badly, he had lost his fucking mind. And he had probably impaired
his vision. Most of all, he had left so quickly, so easily, without caring to at
least say goodbye. So, yeah, a head injury and impaired vision explained his
actions.
But what about mine? Why had I kissed him back? And why had I liked
it?
He evoked a sense of safety. Maybe I subconsciously carried around the
memory of that day I saw him fighting off a group of guards. And from the
conversations we had had, it seemed like he genuinely cared about
everyone residing under his roof.
He joked both in and out of the lecture hall. I used to think he was
laughing at me in a mocking way. He was actually laughing at many of my
cynical remarks not because he was ridiculing me, but because he found
them funny.
And whenever he spoke, even to clueless novices like me, he didn’t
sound patronizing, bored or aggravated. He was calm and reasonable, as a
grown-up should be.
I really liked his personality. I also liked him physically. Dann was only
twenty-six, and despite being intimidating at times, he was really
handsome. Tall, slender, with messy blond hair that sometimes fell in his
eyes, giving him a sort of boyish look. At the slightest hint of a smile a set
of cute dimples carved in his cheeks. He always wore black. Even though I
didn’t like the way his piercing gaze tore through me and tried to invade my
thoughts, I liked getting lost in the clear blue skies.
When he had comforted me on the night after my birthday, he had
brought me soothing solace. I’d just learned of my last three relatives’
deaths, and he was the only one who was there for me. Naturally, my
fucked up overemotional mind hadn’t bothered telling me it was wrong to
kiss him back.
And those unexplainable hallucinations were surely a factor for my
craziness. They happened only around him, and they were always about
him. My brain had probably decided to build a bond upon them.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with His Excellency.
Whether he was still away or had returned from wherever he had run off
to, when I entered the Council’s room, Johanna Larsen was the only present
Council member. She sat next to Patricia Svensson, but the other seven
chairs were empty. A writing desk was placed across the two women, with a
pen and some blank sheets of paper.
 “Please take a seat, Miss Dustrikke,” Monika’s mom said, nodding at
the chair behind the desk. “And please remember to refrain yourself from
summoning things you should not be summoning.”
Demonic entities? Like that would ever happen!
“I’ll do my best to not disappoint you.”
“We expect nothing less.”
I took my seat and narrowed my eyes to the paper. Grabbing the pen, I
told myself this was easy. I had drawn a Spirit Trap so many times. What
was more, I had drawn its reversed version along with some additional
runes, which I hadn’t studied before, during my latest rendezvous with the
Nøkk. I could do this.
The summoning itself also wasn’t going to be an issue. Not only had I
managed to summon two dead necromancers in the very same day, but I
had also successfully summoned the apparition of Queen Bitch
Mayvareena. As far as the spirit post-mortem stage of necromancy went, I
could ace it in my sleep.
“You won’t be needing the pen and paper, Miss Dustrikke.”
“The fuck?!” I snapped at Mrs. Larsen’s statement.
“Please mind your language.” She kept her voice and face totally
expressionless. It wasn’t the first or second time I had cursed in front of a
Council member. She was probably getting used to it. “I would like you to
summon a spirit of your choice without a Spirit Trap. Choose whomever
you want, as long as you don’t evoke Mylingar, Gjenferd, Vardøger,
Wights, demonic entities and vindictive spirits of the sort.”
“You just excluded my entire list of spirit resources,” I nagged
sarcastically, though I had no idea what Vardøger meant. “But how am I
supposed to do it, when spirits can enter the castle only through a Spirit
Trap?”
“We’ve temporarily lifted some of our wards. You’ll be able to summon
it inside this room.”
“Fine. I choose… Edor Dustrikke.”
“Very well, you may proceed.”
Closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath, I placed my hands in my
lap and tried to concentrate. A familiar pull rose in my body. I opened my
eyes. Edor’s translucent apparition was staring at me.
“Uh, hey,” I said with a wry smile.
My distant cousin glanced around, then vanished into thin air.
 “Sorry about that,” I apologized on his behalf. “Last time I summoned
him, he wasn’t very happy with me. Apparently, he noticed he wasn’t
trapped, and decided to make a break for it.”
The two women exchanged looks before fixing their attention back on
me. Monika’s mom spoke again.
“I would like you to summon the spirit of someone who hasn’t left our
plane.”
Furrowing my eyebrows, I wondered if I had misheard her. “But that
means a restless spirit.”
“Precisely.”
“I was joking earlier! I don’t know anyone who fits the description.”
“How about your Draug’s spirit?”
“Pfft! Marcus Dahl banished it, like almost three months ago.”
“We know. You can draw it out of the spirit plane.”
“No way! I’m not summoning that!”
“May I suggest another option?” Patricia Svensson spoke for the first
time since I had entered. “The library holds extensive archives and
chronicles on Dustrikkes with names and portraits. There’s more than one
Dustrikke who died a violent death. Their spirit may not be in our plane, but
she should be able to summon them.”
“What?” I squealed in horror.
“Yes, Miss Dustrikke,” Johanna Larsen nodded, “I believe it would be
easier for you to evoke a Myling from your own bloodline.”
“Uh-uh!” I squealed again. “Mylingar are restless spirits of dead kids!
That’s creepy!”
“The goddess gifted you with these powers.” Monika’s mother was
trying to be helpful, but she wasn’t. “Proceed.”
“What if it hurts someone inside this room?”
“Should it make such an attempt, you will banish it.”
“You’re putting your faith in my banishing skills? Are you insane?”
I had banished Edor and Doran from a Spirit Trap before, then the
Nøkk, but both times I had no idea what I was doing. Svensson hadn’t
taught me about banishing yet, because I hadn’t succeeded in summoning a
ghost during our scheduled exercises.
“I don’t know how to banish a spirit,” I lied.
“You’re a Class Five caster, Miss Dustrikke. Moreover, you are wearing
the Eitrhals we have ordered you to wear at all times. Should this task be
challenging on a magical level, which I’m sure it won’t, you wouldn’t risk
becoming a Livløs.”
“What if it doesn’t want to be summoned?”
“No spirit ever does,” Svensson concluded evenly.
“What?! But that woman you evoked, she said–”
“We all resort to little white lies,” Svensson interrupted me.
I remembered how I’d wished ghosts had social and biological needs, so
Doran and Edor would feel tortured by being trapped in my pentagram for a
few days. Little did I know, I had indeed tortured them just by summoning
them in our plane.
“I’m not doing it,” I whispered after a while.
“Excuse me?”
“I said I’m not doing it.”
“Do you wish to fail, Miss Dustrikke? Refusal to make an attempt is
looked upon as failure. Having in mind you’re a Class Five necromancer,
failing on an evocation test would mean you’d be endangering yourself and
others around you. Thus, I’m afraid, we’d have to keep you on this island
until you learn how to control your powers.”
Tell me something I don’t know!
“Mylingar have been tortured enough in their life. Then they’ve been
tortured in their death. And their spirits live a tortured afterlife. I’m not
going to summon a child who’s been through hell and still lives in it, just
because you want to test my summoning and banishing evocation skills. If
you want a show, go get fucking theater tickets!”
“This is your last chance, Miss Dustrikke.”
I had already banished a handful of nasty Nøkk along with their queen,
but neither of them had behaved like a raging monster. Could I really banish
such an infuriated spirit from my first attempt? Even if I summoned a
Myling, despite it being inhumane, I wasn’t sure what would follow. I
didn’t want to know what would follow.
And I sure as hell didn’t want to inflict more agony on anyone – even if
it was on the spirit of the brattiest kid out there!
“Nope,” I declared, and bolted for the door.
Whether it was stupid or not, I didn’t see my rejection as a loss.
The Dining Hall was louder than usual. I ate quickly to escape the
others’ emotional cacophony and excitement over the new year. Only
problem was, a familiar light brown head popped out of thin air into the
empty seat across me, almost making me spit the coffee I was sipping in
between bites. Maksim Larsen.
“How did you do on your first test?”
He asked it in a casual way, as if we were having conversations on a
daily basis.
I hadn’t spoken to him since learning of Monika’s betrayal. Moreover, I
suspected he had known about her deceptions, which meant he had also
been part of the lie from the beginning.
“If your sister sent you to butter me up, remind her to go take a nice
long sauna in Muspelheim.”
“She doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Did your mother tell you to check up on me?” It made sense. Aurora
had probably told her uncle everything from yesterday’s trip, and Hallvard
had decided to get me a fancy bodyguard again. “Let me guess. Monika
fucked up and Ragnar is already taken, so now the Council is willing to
spare one of the future tryouts for Dann’s team. Tell them I’m flattered that
they see me as someone who needs a Larsen guardian more than a
Nordstrøm needs him, and I’m declining the offer.”
His eyes widened while his forehead wrinkled in a suspicious grimace.
Instead of answering me, he looked around the room, as if to make sure we
wouldn’t be heard. In a room full of people!
“Who told you I was joining Dann’s team?” he asked, lowering his
voice to a whisper. “It was supposed to be secret.”
“Why are you here, Maksim?”
His face eased. A slight hint of his friendly boyish smile surfaced,
poking at my irritant receptors.
“No one sent me; I just saw you sitting here and thought I’d come over.
I wanted to check how you were doing.”
“I’m amazeballs.”
“Do you still need help with evocation? We can–”
“My evocation’s fucking perfect. I’m a Dustrikke, remember?”
Okay, I knew I sounded snobbish and my voice was unambiguously
nagging, but he was acting like we were friends who were having a casual
chat. We weren’t friends.
He reached across the table and grabbed my hand.
A muffled gasping sound escaped my throat as my chest rose and my
lungs filled with so much air, it felt like I was soaring above the ground. All
of my negativity flew out of me. I sensed a weird sort of alleviation, like
someone had relieved my chest of something invisible that had been
pressing on it up until a second ago.
“You’re using your Sentinel powers on me.”
I noted the obvious, but my voice was even and flat, as if I was simply
voicing out a trivial statement.
He nodded. “I don’t want you to get angry.”
“Why would I get angry?”
“The other reason I came to talk to you is Monika.”
I attempted to pull my hand away when I heard his sister’s name, but he
tightened his grip. And just like that, the new irritation that spun in me at
the mention of Monika’s name was erased from my system. He was
selecting all my negative emotions and pressing the Delete button.
“I know you’re hurting, but please hear her out.”
Blinking slowly, I shook my head. “I’m not hurting.”
“Yes, you are. A blend of disappointment, anguish and wrath were
oozing from you. I know it might look like she betrayed you. Please talk to
her. Give her a chance to explain.”
“Okay,” I said, even though I wasn’t willing to talk to Monika.
Could he sense my unwillingness? Was unwillingness an emotion? I
still felt reluctance, so the answer was probably no.
He rose from the chair, finally letting go. As soon as he broke the
physical contact, said blend of emotions returned in its full fucking
capacity, thrashing against my core all at once. Furthermore, I was
infuriated because he’d just tried to manipulate my emotions and steal my
free will – the most basic of all human rights.
“Go tell Monika I’ve listened to enough of her bullshit and I have no
intention of hearing more of it! And don’t use that Sentinel manipulation on
me ever again!”
“Learyn, please calm down and come with me. She keeps beating
herself up over Gabriella’s death.”
“Blow me!” I growled the words in his direction, kicked back my chair,
and stormed out of the Dining Hall. It was becoming a tradition.
* * *

The room was overtaken by silence, broken only by the crackling of flames,
dancing on top of numerous candles positioned on two ancient candelabras.
They stood on both sides of a huge grand piano. Its lids were closed, and
the entire body was covered in black, reflecting each candle’s soft glow.
I had never played piano, and I wasn’t one of those people who
irritatingly hit the keys to produce out-of-tune clanking whenever they saw
a piano somewhere. Though, for some reason, I was pulled towards it by
the urge to touch the instrument.
Walking over to the long bench, I sat on the end of its leather seat
before carefully lifting the smaller lid above the keys.
To my surprise, it was lightweight and strangely contrasting with the
piano’s gigantic frame. I saw a golden logo etched on the inner side – a
symbol resembling an ancient lyre carved above the words Steinway &
Sons. Cautiously tracing the lyre with my index finger, I smiled at the
memory of the music coming out of this instrument. Closing my eyes, I
could almost recall the beauty of the melody, which had echoed through
corridors and cells, resonating off the cold dungeon walls.
“You just had to go and create another mess, didn’t you, hacker?”
A familiar baritone whisper filled the air and made me tremble with a
strange mixture of excitement and anxiety.
I opened my eyes. Dann was sitting on the bench beside me. His uncle
and Monika’s mom had obviously informed the rest of the Council about
my actions. Was he talking about my hacking incident? Or something else?
Honestly, I had lost the count of all the messes I had created since coming
to Norway.
But how had I walked all the way from my room to the dungeons
without remembering it?
His emotionless expression was withholding answers. I grew uneasy.
Why did he have the ability to erase all traces of emotion like that?
“Am I dreaming?” I asked, holding my breath.
“Yes.”
“Did you Wander into my nightmare and kiss me in my sleep in
December?”
His face darkened. “Yes. I was worried about you being affected by
your incident with the Nøkk. After you blew me off, I thought you might
feel calmer and more willing to talk about it later, therefore I Wandered into
your dream to check up on you.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer him. I didn’t want to think about how real
that kiss had felt, or how nice the many kisses we’d shared after it had been.
So, I simply jumped to another one of the many questions that had been
bothering me.
“What does your uncle know about Amyria?”
“Each time I asked, he simply said it’s something the Nøkk had made
up. I believe him, because I’ve searched for information on the subject and I
didn’t find anything.”
I waited, but he stopped there, which meant Aurora hadn’t looped in the
Council about our second time visiting the Nøkk.
“How did you find me when I accidentally Apertured on the night after
my birthday? Even if everyone in the castle had gone searching for me, you
wouldn’t have been able to cover so much ground for days.”
“I asked Vee Selvig for help. Álfar of all races are expert hunters. I gave
her your questionnaire sheet, and she used her magic to track your exact
whereabouts.”
Although it was a logical explanation, it seemed strange to ask Vee
when he had all sorts of magical creatures under his command.
“Why didn’t you ask one of your guards to track me? Or… I don’t
know, someone older with more magical experience?”
“I have personal reasons for choosing her.”
Personal reasons? He didn’t elaborate, so I shot another question.
“What do you know about the Valraven?”
“It’s an old myth some Danes believe in.”
The fuck? Aurora hadn’t told him even about that?
“What if it’s not a myth?”
He sighed, reached out and placed his hand over mine.
“Learyn, our world is already filled with such diverse, lethal danger.
There’s no need to decorate it further by adding fictional monsters to the
shadows.”
I looked down as his long fingers curled over my hand and gave me a
light, comforting squeeze. I had already given into another guy’s
comforting caresses, believed him blindly, and allowed him to shatter me.
Jerking away from his touch, I got up and walked to the piano’s opposite
side.
“Am I one of your insipid playthings?”
“Excuse me?”
“Am I one of the girls you’re fooling around with?”
 “I’m not fooling around with anyone,” he said immediately. I was about
to continue showering him with questions, but he was quicker. “I’m also not
married or engaged, or pursuing a romantic interest in the face of someone
else. So, before you ask, I didn’t cheat on someone or use you as a
substitute to another.”
“I wasn’t going to ask that, but thanks for clarifying things.” My self-
defenses automatically kicked in, but then something in particular caught
my attention. “Do you really consider a kiss as cheating?”
He was quiet for a while and I couldn’t understand why. It was a simple
question. Then again, I couldn’t quite understand why I felt the need to ask,
because I shouldn’t have cared about his opinion on the matters of
infidelity.
“I consider even the thought of a kiss as cheating,” he replied after a
few moments; and for whatever motive, I secretly sighed with relief. “What
gave you the impression of insipid playthings? I thought you didn’t see me
as a snobbish dick anymore.”
Taken aback by his words, I remained silent. Had I managed to strike a
nerve? Did he still feel bad about what I had called him a few months ago?
Even after I had apologized? I had to pick my next words in a way that
wouldn’t make me sound like a stupid, smitten girl. So, I slowly paced
around the piano and leaned forward on its closed upper lid, resting against
the curved dent of its body and buying myself time to think.
“I may have heard something about the whole playthings deal
somewhere.”
He raised his eyebrows in what seemed like a sincere surprise.
“I can’t think of a reason as to why someone would make such
accusations about me.”
I rolled my eyes, giving up on the theater.
“Ask your heartless bitch of a sister.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Ah, it all becomes clearer now.”
I didn’t reply. He ran his fingers across the keys, producing a string of
quiet, melodic tunes that quickly faded away.
“My sister doesn’t let others in easily.”
“Really, Dann? Did you just try to defend her? With that argument?”
“Aurora was a twelve-year-old child when she saw our parents get
mauled to death, their insides ripped out by claws and fangs. When you’re
just old enough to understand what monstrosities you’ve witnessed, it
changes you forever. I know what she’s done to you. It was a poor decision
on her behalf, but she’s not the heartless bitch you believe her to be. She
has many reasons for acting a bit too overprotective, quite like you do.” I
opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “You’re overprotective of everyone
around you and mainly of yourself.”
Of everyone? Was I? Thinking about it now, maybe I had acted
overprotective around him regarding Vee, Monika, my aunt and even
Gabriella and Aurora – once in that nightmare and a few times when I’d
been awake. And maybe I had gotten a bit heated over the Húsvættir and
their rights. That didn’t really mean I was overprotective of everyone
around me.
But overprotective of myself?
How the fuck had he figured that part out? It wasn’t like I went on
telling people I had trust issues thanks to shitty relationships with friends
and ex-boyfriends. Or how when I eventually felt like trusting someone
new, Monika fucked up royally.
“Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t live up to people’s expectations of what
a Dustrikke should be.”
The Eitrhals instantly tripled in weight, heavy and uncomfortable.
“Black magic makes you dangerous to yourself and to others,” he spoke
softly, despite the sinister note in that statement. “Learning how to control it
is difficult even without bearing everyone’s high expectations of your last
name. I don’t know what imbecile made you the way you are, but
underneath this protective dome of vulgar wrath and mordacity you’ve built
around yourself is a spellbinding power, which streams brighter than the
northern lights.”
Okay, I had to give it to him.
A, I was wow-ed by that statement. B, nobody had ever compared me to
something so beautiful. C, he was unbelievably perspicacious. It was
irritating.
“How can you tell my ex is an imbecile or that he’s responsible for me
being unladylike? Do you assume Shakespeare’s saying Hell hath no fury
like a woman scorned can be applied to every female with an attitude?”
“Shakespeare didn’t write that, William Congreve did; and the phrase is
actually wrongfully transcribed due to hypercorrection. But to answer your
question – you’re not dating anyone here, you didn’t pull away from me in
your dream or on that staircase, you were unnaturally bothered because I
secretly watched you from afar the day you arrived in November, you have
trust issues, and you’re awfully suspicious of the reason why I kissed you.
You are the way you are because of a bad relationship, and the guy is
evidently an imbecile because he let you go.”
I was baffled by his conclusions. Baffled and annoyed.
“That was cute. You don’t know me,” I added with a bitter tone,
pretending I hadn’t heard his Shakespeare comment.
“Right now, you think your privacy has been invaded and your feelings
have been exposed.”
FML! Once again, he read me like an open book!
Everyone, literally everyone, had made me think I was the worst human
on the freaking planet. That I didn’t deserve a normal relationship in my life
because there was something wrong with me. Scratch that, most days I had
believed everything was wrong with me, so I had eventually stopped trying
long before coming to Norway. All the while, Dann acted like he was the
fucking Learyn-Whisperer, deciphering me to the last function in the code
of my being!
He slid off the bench and approached me.
Without a pair of high heels, I felt smaller than usual as his tall frame
came closer, towering over mine. Trapped in the piano’s crease, I didn’t
have any room to run when he reached me. Catching those pale blue eyes, I
wasn’t even sure if I wanted to run.
I was drawn to him, regardless of knowing he was right when he said I
felt invaded. I really did. But somehow, I preferred being invaded by him
next to every other guy I knew.
Quietly admitting it only to myself, I liked him. I liked many things in
him. Maybe I was too hurt and too proud to admit it after he kissed me on
that staircase, but I was sure I had more than platonic sympathies for him.
Which was exactly what made me uneasy about his closeness. Dann
was practically my teacher.
In spite of it, somehow all my cons were sent into oblivion the second
his hands caught my waist. Feeling the warmth and reassurance in his touch
even through my clothes, I immediately forgot why this was wrong. He
lifted me on top of the closed lid and our eyes met evenly. The height
difference was no longer a factor, and I saw myself falling into his stare’s
picturesque heavens. Like before, I was rendered asunder. The arctic blue
tore me, making its way through every single defensive wall. Feeling
mesmerized, I couldn’t break away from his grasp.
Some long-forgotten brain cell woke up from a hypnotized slumber.
“We can’t.” My voice was barely a whisper, as if my own body rebelled
against the words. “I mean, we can, but we shouldn’t. I’m your student.
Kind of. It should be against the rules.”
“I’ve never seen you abide by the rules before.”
“Don’t you want to abide by them?” I asked, but what I wanted to ask
was whether he’d really want to break rules with me.
He leaned in, and in the blink of an eye his lips found mine. They were
just as soft, warm and gentle as I remembered them. No longer thinking
clearly, I immediately responded. I kissed him back resolutely and without
any hesitation, giving into the pleasant sensations he awoke in me once
again – warmth and safety.
I parted my lips, welcoming him for another kiss, and he lightly drew
his tongue over the tip of mine, sending shivers into every fiber of my
being.
Unlike the tear-stained saltiness I remembered, this time he tasted
deliciously sweet to a point of intoxication. Locking my hands behind his
neck, I tried to draw him closer. His fingers moved from my waist, tracing
the length of my spine up and down, and his tongue slipped into my mouth
again. It was moist and gentle, caressing mine and massaging it. His
fingertips electrified my spinal cord while his French kisses melted me, and
I couldn’t help but recall what had come to my mind back on that staircase
– he created the most beautiful paradoxes.
How had I grown to resent the idea of kissing someone ever again? I
had forgotten just how damn good a make out session felt like. Now that he
was reminding me, every single axon in my brain silently begged him to
never let me go.
I was probably delirious, but I craved more of this insanity.
Right on cue, his body flattened against mine in the curve of the piano,
and his teeth grazed my lower lip. He sucked on it, simultaneously painting
swirls with the tip of his tongue, and a stream of hot waves lit my skin on
fire. An unexpected moan escaped me before I could stop it. One of his
arms circled back around my waist, pressing our bodies closer. His other
hand trailed into the back of my neck, and he stopped nibbling on my
bottom lip just to cover my mouth with soft kisses.
 Oh, fuck! How could I have resented this?
I let my own hands untangle, sliding over the outer side of his lean,
slightly muscular shoulders, biceps, elbows. Tracing down his arms and
moving over to his chest, my fingers met the vibrating thumps of his
galloping heartbeat. I gasped, breaking the kiss.
That’s when I truly believed it. He couldn’t have been playing me.
Somehow, Dann saw through me and knew I was broken. If he didn’t really
care, he wouldn’t have been this gentle and cautious while his heartbeat was
going crazy. He would have acted rough, surrendering to impulses, without
giving a fuck about me.
As if hearing my thoughts, he stroked the back of my neck and kissed
me again. Sensually, slowly, in overwhelming ways that made me forget
about my insecurities.
Tingling sensations spilled over my entire being. They sparked me to
life after I had spent so much time in a torpid, apathetic state of mind when
it came down to being intimate with someone. Gliding my fingertips back
up across his collarbone, neck, chin, I made sure my sense of touch
wouldn’t become numb in one place, so I kept moving my fingers and
exploring the lines, curves and hollows on his face.
His lips danced with such skillful delicacy over mine, I let him carry
them along my jawline. Opposite to what I had gone through weeks ago, I
didn’t feel like something was missing, unlike when I had been asleep and
seeking them. Just like then, he buried his face in my hair. The heat of his
breath made me shudder before his lips softly brushed against the hollow of
my neck. A tidal wave of liquid fire rushed through my veins, bringing back
a long-forgotten sensation of arousal. I instinctively wrapped my legs
around his body, pressing as tightly to him as I could while sitting at the
edge. Arching against him and tilting my head to the side to expose my skin
further, I unraveled in heavenly bliss while he left a string of tender kisses
heading towards my shoulder.
I had completely forgotten we were in my dream. Pulling back to meet
his eyes, I was glad there was a sturdy surface under me, because my legs
wouldn’t have been able to support my own weight.
Before my vision could regain focus, his lips pressed onto mine again,
sucking away whatever sanity I still had left in me. Being insane felt
fucking divine. I wanted to keep kissing him and prolong this dream till the
sands of time stopped running. And that was a problem which nearly ruined
everything – all of this was happening in a dream.
I caught his face, partially to prevent him from clouding my mind with
another kiss, partially because I wanted to keep touching him.
“Make me wake up, like you did in my last dream, and come find me. I
want to kiss you for real, not like this.”
“I can’t,” he whispered, leaning in, and our lips met in an ethereal
caress.
Why couldn’t he? Was he still away?
“Aren’t you back? If you are, please wake me up.”
He let out a hoarse groan and pushed his face in my hair. I shuddered in
his arms when his mouth landed once again on my neck’s already extra
sensitive skin.
“Dann, please!”
I bit my lip as soon as my brain registered how turned on I was and how
much it showed in my whimpering voice.
The morbid belief I’d only feel disdain when it came to sex had
vanished into thin air, as if it hadn’t been nestled in my head for an entire
year. After my ex, I had simply grown used to the repulsive nausea I got
from the mere thought of being naked, body or feelings wise, with another
guy. And now I was stunned by the fact that I absolutely meant what I had
nearly implied with my suggestions to Dann.
Contrary to what my body desired, I drew back from him. Responding
to what my body desired, his fingers trailed over to my face, thumb
brushing just under my lips, which yearned for more of his touch, for his
kisses, for his being.
“I beg of you, stop biting your lower lip like that.”
His gravelly voice pulled me out of my mental vortex. The bright blue
in his stare had grown darker. His eyes were fixed on my mouth, not
blinking for the longest time, as if he was the one who felt mesmerized,
when it was the other way around.
“You’re excruciatingly beautiful, but do you have to be so irresistibly
sensual? I swear by the Vanir, you’re making all of this even harder than it
already is.”
“Why?” I asked, disoriented.
Why had he said that to me? Why was I making whatever all of this was
even harder? And most of all – why couldn’t he wake me up and kiss me
outside a dream?
The silence that followed stretched to eternity and beyond. I couldn’t
pick out a single emotion from his facial features. Maybe my brain had
liquefied, melted by his tenderness, but hard as I tried, I couldn’t find the
answer in those astonishing blue eyes.
He kissed my lips one more time, before uttering something which
didn’t seem like the answer I was looking for.
“Because the northern stream still flows poisoned.”
Like clockwork, a second later I was awake and alone in my room,
confused, overwhelmed, feverish and longing for the aftertaste of his lips to
be replaced by his real lips.
The mere thought of his intoxicating French kisses swept me away from
my bedroom. It carried me over flights and flights of stairs, pushed me
through the hidden passageway behind the painting, pulled me down the
arched tunnel, and made me reach for the door that kept my newly
awakened, most innermost desire hidden away.
I expected him to be there. The fuck with that, I yearned for him to be
there and to take me in his arms the moment I ran through the door. I longed
to find myself locked within the protective and comforting wreath his
fingers weaved around my skin, I longed to be pressed against his beating
heart, I longed to have my defensive walls torn down and replaced by his
lips.
But this wasn’t the Disney fairytale shit package.
There was no prince standing there, ready to sweep me off my feet.
There was no melody produced by skillful fingers running over the grand
piano’s keys. There was no baritone whisper to make me tremble in the
darkness.
There was no warmth, no tenderness, no mercy.
I was standing in a cold, dark room devoid of all human trace. A single
musical instrument stood there to remind me why the only thing I felt was
an incorporeal hand curling around my throat and clenching its claws
ruthlessly.
All that was left for me here was my disappointment’s desolation, which
I faced breathless and immobilized, silent and alone.
Was he still away? And what the hell had he said before forcing me to
wake up? Something about a northern stream still flowing poisoned?
Nordstrøm meant northern stream. But poisoned? What was that supposed
to mean?
 

A Winter In Fugue
Three days later, Dann was still missing. Shaken by my dream, my thoughts
kept drifting to him.
His arms, wreathing all around me. His fingers, weaving caresses into
me. His lips, kissing my own, painting beautiful trails on my skin, making
me moan and shudder in his arms. His words, comparing me to the northern
lights, telling me I was excruciatingly beautiful.
This was bad. Screw bad; this was abso-fucking-lutely the worst mess I
could get myself into! And I had already managed to get myself into all
sorts of crazy shit since coming to Norway. But why did I feel this way?
It’s because you’re fucking insane, a wise voice noted in my head. It
was quickly silenced by a different voice, which cooed about how Dann
was excellent at everything and how I would be insane not to fall for him.
Could I let myself give in to my emotions? All my life, I had fallen for
the bad boys, and my stupidity had always backfired. Dann seemed
different from the others before him. I trusted him with my life, but could I
trust him with something dead and broken beyond the limits of
necromancy? Could I trust him with my heart?
I found myself thinking about him a fourth night in a row.
My feet carried me to the medieval dude’s painting in the castle’s main
entryway. I paused at the portrait, wondering if I should go into the
dungeons. A nearby torch’s light illuminated the painting, and I found
myself reminiscing about Dann’s last lecture. He talked about
Muspelheim’s eternal flame. The eternal flame was an everlasting source of
heat and fire, and was the only thing capable of destroying the Bifröst
Bridge.
 When the primordial fire of Muspelheim mixed with the primordial ice
of Niflheim, sparks of eternal flame flew across the multiverse. Some of
them bonded together and formed our Sun, while others remained in the
form of isolated shards, floating freely amidst the dark matter.
Dann had explained how Nordstrøm Wanderers had obtained one of
those shards, centuries ago. They had paid a hefty price to the dwarves of
Nidavellir to tear it to pieces and forge special cressets that could hold the
flame’s power. These cressets later became the torches that now lit the
entryway, corridors and hallways of this castle.
I took the plunge and descended through the secret passageway, only to
find a deserted room. The grand piano stood lonely in its corner, like I did
in mine.
Unwillingly admitting it to myself, I wished he was here. All this time I
had taken our talks and his open invitations for granted. Now, when I finally
felt like opening up to him, he wasn’t around.

* * *

The next morning, I went to see Marcus Dahl to get my mind off the storms
in my heart. Despite having Apertured once, I couldn’t do it today. No
matter how many times we tried, not a single inch of my body went poof.
All I did was waste his time on a day he shouldn’t have even dealt with me
to begin with.
“Miss Dustrikke,” the guard spoke with a stormy expression, “I
understand why you’d prefer being somewhere on a vacation instead of
practicing, but you need to try harder.”
After a few more fruitless attempts at Aperture, Marcus told me to take
a break. I decided to go for a walk and clear my head.
Honestly, I couldn’t imagine going on a vacation. There wasn’t a place
in this world I wanted to visit. I had heard in some movie that people made
the place, not the other way around. Since I didn’t really have anyone to
turn to, I had no place to wish for.
I couldn’t even imagine being in my house in California. That life
seemed so distant, so far behind, as if I had left San Francisco not months,
but years ago.
One of the courtyards was as barren as my vacation dreams.
Slowly walking across the snowdrifts, I thought about the first time I
had truly forgotten about my old life. It was somewhere in this courtyard,
near the side building which housed the training grounds. That afternoon
when Aurora had hit Dann with a snowball right in the face in the middle of
his sentence. The memory of his scowling expression and the way it
transformed into a resting bitchface made me smile, but a second later my
smile vanished, as I remembered what had followed next.
Winter used to be my favorite season. My birthday and my favorite
holidays were crammed into a single winter month. But now, after all this
time, I no longer saw it as the enchanting season through the prism of a
child’s eyes. Now all I saw in winter was how painfully ironical it had been.
This winter brought me sincere smiles and my first carefree laughter in
a really, really long time. And this winter took everything from me.
I slowly came to a halt, with eyes scanning the cloudy sky.
“Why?”
My voice was a barely noticeable whisper.
“Why me, Freya? What’s so special about me, that you had to pick me
out of all other Dustrikkes to be your… I don’t even know what I am. If I’m
your Chosen One, all I’m chosen for is a path, which leads to death for me
and suffering for you.”
I didn’t receive a reply. There was no echoing voice, divine specter
breaking through the clouds, or an inner feeling that I was getting a sign.
“Why me, Freya?” I repeated quietly.
Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. She was worshipped by everyone
here and who knew by how many others off this island. She wouldn’t want
to talk to the only one who had never even thought of her.
I wasn’t brought up as a religious kid. My family never went to church.
We never talked about anything spiritual. I had asked them a few times over
the years why I wasn’t baptized and whether they were secretly atheists.
Each time the answer was the same. They believed there was some sort of a
divine force, but never labeled it with a name, and told me I could call it
whatever I wanted to – Jesus, Allah, Cao Dai…
So, I grew up thinking there was something superior to us, but I never
named it, and I never prayed to it.
Now that I knew it had many forms and many names, I hadn’t bothered
praying to any of them. Partially out of habit, partially because I wasn’t sure
how to speak to the Norse pantheon. Having that in mind, Freya’s lack of
answer wasn’t disappointing. Deep down, I knew my questions were
rhetorical.
 Instead of wasting my time asking a non-responsive goddess rhetorical
questions, I decided to ask a slightly more responsive necromancer different
questions.
Administration told me where I could find the last person I’d ever
thought I’d go looking for in my spare time – my mentor. Climbing one of
the west wing’s towers, I expected to find a room up there, but it turned out
to be a turret.
Chilly air seeped through the walls’ windowless crevices. Fortunately, I
was still wearing my long jacket, which made the freezing temperature
slightly more bearable.
“If you’re going to sneak up on someone, do it properly, Dustrikke.”
Looking around the small oval area, I let his comment fly past my
irritant receptors.
There were a couple of wooden chairs with fitted cushions, and a tall
cabinet next to them. Other than that, the floor space was empty. The oval
walls, on the other hand, were decorated with what seemed like the
inventory of a small weapon shop. Crossbows and throwing knives, swords
and axes, guns and sniper rifles. One had to wonder what the cabinet
contained.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked quietly, eyeing the windowless openings.
Brühl turned around with his signature scolding glower.
“What are you doing here? Don’t you have studying to do for
university, like the rest of those verdammte Kinder?”
“No, and while we’re on the subject of studying – next time, try being
more subtle in your reports.”
“It is my job as your mentor to keep track of your progress and report it
to the Council. You’re under their protection, which means you will play by
their rules, regardless of your last name.”
I rolled my eyes, fixing them on the nearest wall. If he knew the
severity of my problem with authority, he would probably turn the Dick
Mode up a notch. Or even two.
“Why are you here, Dustrikke?”
“My water element broke out.”
“When?”
“That’s the thing. I have no clue when and how, but it happened before I
came here. Judging by how painful it felt when the other two elements
broke out, I would have sensed and remembered it.”
 “When did you discover it?”
“On the weekend when… when taking a shower,” I lied quickly, hoping
he’d take my hesitation as a sign of embarrassment. “I got angry and the
water pulled back from me, but I didn’t really feel anything other than
typical annoyance.”
He grabbed one of the chairs, dragged it across the floor, and sat down,
straddling it from the wrong side while resting his elbows on the back’s
wooden frame.
“Sit!”
I obeyed, knowing there was no sense in telling him I preferred staying
up and walking around to keep myself warm.
“Do you know when you had the suppression spell put on you?”
“No.”
“How old are you now?”
“I turned twenty-one in December.”
“Scheisse! You could have broken out years ago.”
If most people broke out at eighteen, but Dann – who was also a Class
Five necromancer – had Apertured at fifteen, when had my water element
broken out?
“Have you ever been outside of San Francisco?”
“Yeah, a few times. I’ve visited some cities in other parts of California.
I was also once on vacation in New York and once in Oregon.”
“Have you felt notably frightened, vengeful or infuriated during any of
those travels?”
I tried to recall my feelings from those trips, but I couldn’t really
pinpoint an exact event which fell into his notable category. As a teenager, I
got more mood swings than I did now. None of them seemed drastic,
though, at least not when compared to the crap from the past couple of
years, and especially not compared to the shit I’d felt on this island.
“Um, I don’t think it happened during my trips.”
“That’s a good start. Can you narrow down any devastating tides,
groundbreaking thunderstorms, hailstorms and similar occurrences in San
Francisco?”
“Do I look like the worldwide meteorological database archive?”
“Think, Dustrikke! Did something life-changing for a teenager happen
to you? Not getting into the university you wanted? Having a fight with
your best friend? Breaking up with a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Gender-fluid
partner? I don’t even know what you call them. Your generation is different
from mine in too many ways, so think! What affected your feelings?”
I had lost a lot of things, and the hurting had only gotten worse with
each new pile of shit that got dumped over the other piles. But…
“There was a thunderstorm…”
Eyes closed, I tried to remember a particularly nasty day. One, which I
wanted to eradicate from my memories.
“What happened?”
“It came out of nowhere. I remember it, because I don’t really like
thunderstorms, but it was the first time I enjoyed one.”
“What happened, Dustrikke?”
“The Phallus Who Shall Not Be Named happened!” I snapped back.
“Speak clearly! Or do you prefer me to torture it out of you?”
“A cheating son of a bitch who called himself my boyfriend!” I yelled,
jumping off the chair and circling around the place. Somehow, it seemed
smaller than it did a couple of minutes ago.
“Your boyfriend cheated on you? That’s what happened?”
“He didn’t just cheat! I caught him doing it in his dorm room with some
blonde bimbo! And he admitted he had been fucking her behind my back
for months! And she knew about me from the beginning!”
“What happened next?”
“I stayed and we had a kinky threesome. What the fuck do you think
happened? I threw the nearest thing at him, which was some book, and
rushed out of the building.”
“When did the thunderstorm start?”
“I don’t know, at some point while I was walking back. I was too angry
to focus on driving, so I marched off on foot. Lightning and thunder rolled
out, then rain started falling. San Francisco is either cloudy or misty all year
round, so rain is something we get often. The sky is clear for only, like, five
days a year.”
“How did you feel?”
“Are you my fucking shrink?”
“Answer the question.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He got up, dragged me out of my corner and pushed me in the other
direction, literally sending me flying towards the chair. I wasn’t sure if he
used just physical strength, but right then and there I wished I knew how to
fight in hand to hand combat, so I could give him a piece of my mind.
“Listen, you silly little girl! Your generation and your upbringing
doesn’t know wars, famine and real problems. Boys and girls like you think
it’s the end of the world when your feelings get hurt, and those feelings get
affected beyond any reasonable measures by trivial things, such as fighting
with friends, cancelled TV shows, or cheating boyfriends. I will ask you
one more time as a civilized adult, and I expect you to respond like one.
How did you feel?”
“Like it was the end of the world!” I growled, staring directly into his
eyes. “Yeah, we get affected by such shit; and I got so affected by mine, it
felt like the end of the fucking world! My guts were twisted, my heart was
aching, I couldn’t breathe, everything was painful, and I thought I was
having a heart attack or something. And I enjoyed the fucking storm,
because the sky was ripping open like I wanted to rip my own chest open.
That’s how it felt!”
Folding his arms over his chest, he didn’t even blink at my meltdown.
“When did the storm stop?”
“While I was asleep. My aunt gave me some new herbal tea, and it
knocked me out like a horse tranquilizer. When I woke up, the storm was
already gone.”
“There you have it,” he said, stepping back to lean against one of the
walls. “That’s how and when your water element broke out.”
“Awesome!” I nagged acidulously. “Are we done now?”
“By all means, go and let me get back to my real job.”
He gestured to the door. I didn’t wait for a second invitation.
My irritation meter reached such brutal heights, I couldn’t wait for
Dann to show his face in my sleep, so I could scold him for agreeing with
the Council’s decision to assign me this asshole as a mentor.
* * *

But he never came. My night was devoid of his presence, just like my days.
And it got me thinking.
Why was I suddenly so infatuated and overtaken by my thoughts of
him? And why was I so suspicious, that I kept overthinking it?
Because you have trust issues, that wise voice spoke in my head. Also,
Aurora told you he has insipid playthings. He denied it and she hates you,
but what if he is the one who’s lying? You’ve been lied to by two boyfriends
before. And you’ve even been cheated on by one of them. Lightning struck
twice. What if it’s striking for a third time?
I had to pull the plug on this madness before it was too late.
There was an Elemental test soon. There were monsters waiting for me
off this island. Guys and romantic shit should have been the least of my
problems.
On the following evening, I climbed to the ninth floor, determined to
push His Excellency out of my thoughts.
“Good evening, Miss Dustrikke,” Hallvard greeted me, looking above
my head, diagonally and slightly to the side. Typical.
“Good evening,” I replied, eyeing every single mummy behind the
table. No sign of Dann.
Get over it and focus!
“Your mentor’s reports state three of your elements have broken out.”
“I can’t control water.”
“We know.” Johanna Larsen spoke this time. She didn’t look angry or
disappointed, just old and expressionless. “Please demonstrate your control
over the fire and air elements. Sever the flames from the candles in the
candelabra on your left and bring them to our table.”
“But… That means using my fire and air elements at the same time.”
“Yes, Miss Dustrikke.”
The candelabra held exactly nine candles. I had come across this digit
so many times since coming to Norway. One had to wonder if it held a
special meaning for necromancers. Or Norse pagans in general.
Shaking my head, I imagined the forces of air and fire flowing through
my eitr core, each of them separating into two equal parts, then each of
them flowing through my hands. During my exercises with Brühl, we had
never simultaneously experimented with two elements.
You’re a damn Dustrikke. Start acting like it.
Shivers spread underneath my skin, as if my heart delivered liquid eitr
instead of blood into my veins. The flames flickered and rose, as though the
wicks were severed, but kept burning. Swaying my hands towards the
Council and willing the flames to follow my movement, I smiled with
relief, witnessing how my elements weren’t failing me.
“Very well, Miss Dustrikke,” Hallvard proclaimed. “I would like you to
form a vortex through your air element, sweep the flames in it, and keep
them ablaze.”
Keeping the flames afloat was one thing. But creating a vortex and
sweeping them in it while preventing them from being extinguished?
Writing a code in that absurd COW programming language sounded easier
than this!
I applied my good old Pilates breathing techniques for a few seconds,
still eyeing the flames.
You can do this. You’re a direct descendant of Linnea Dustrikke. You
made a Draug on your first day here, and you didn’t even have your
Eitrhals then. You swept the entire ocean away from that fjord without
practicing your water element even once.
Keeping my right hand steady and focused on the fire element, I
swished my left wrist in circular motions, creating a whirlwind of air
current.
Speeding up my left hand’s motions, I plucked one of the flames and
swerved it into the vortex, while still keeping my right hand concentrated
on the fire. When the flame flickered, but didn’t die down, I felt my face
stretching into a wide grin.
See? You can do it.
A second flame joined in, spinning vigorously inside the vortex. One by
one, the rest followed, until the flames became nine blurry sparks, dancing
in perfect unison.
Inexperienced novice, my ass! Eat your words, Monika!
All of a sudden, the flames stretched, increasing in size. I focused on
my right hand, trying to control them. No matter how much strain I put on
the entire right half of my body, how many F bombs I dropped in my head,
or how many times I told myself to concentrate, the flames kept increasing.
Finally, they overtook the entire vortex.
“That’s enough, Miss Dustrikke.”
I was staring at a gigantic flaming tornado!
“That is enough, Miss Dustrikke. Extinguish it.”
The blazing flames obviously didn’t give a rat’s ass about Hallvard’s
words, because hard as I tried, I couldn’t overpower the insanity before my
eyes.
“Miss Dustrikke!” Monika’s mother raised her voice. “If you don’t
extinguish it right this instant, we will be forced to do it for you, which will
result in you failing this test!”
 I grabbed the chain of my Eitrhals with both hands, took it off, and
threw it on the ground.
But the vortex kept spinning with the same size, force, speed and
blazing light. No. Fucking. Way. Was I doing this? On my own? Without
the Eitrhals strengthening my magic? I turned my hands up and down,
examining the bare skin. It wasn’t being cut and glued back, like Aurora’s
had been when she couldn’t control her spell.
A bitter sound, resembling a chuckle, escaped my throat.
“Miss Dustrikke!”
“Okay.” I laughed out the word like a crazy person. “Okay, yeah, I can
do it.”
Shifting my weight between both legs and licking my lips, I shot my
hands in the air, palms facing the spinning vortex. The lights trembled, but
didn’t budge an inch.
Come on, I told the whirlwind, if I can light you up, I can also
extinguish you.
Regardless of my attempts, nothing happened. Inhaling slowly and
staring at my creation, I decided to take a shot at something even crazier.
Water, I thought, flow through me.
But the water element was feeling shy tonight.
A whiff of annoyance spun through my core. Seriously? I influenced the
ocean, but my element was hiding now? Now? When those fucking
mummies were testing me…
Before I could finish my thought, thousands of incorporeal needles
pierced my skin. It felt as though they were having a fucking race at who’d
be the first one to poke a hole through me. And as soon as someone gave
them the green light to start their abuse, a stream erupted from the ceiling,
pouring waves and waves of water over the vortex, until they completely
drowned the fire.
Something pushed on my shoulders, my knees started shaking, I fell to
the ground, and the waters disappeared as suddenly as they had manifested
in the first place.
“Miss Dustrikke!”
Through heavy pants, my eyes scanned the room. Hallvard Nordstrøm
got off his chair. In the blink of an eye, he was kneeling on the ground,
putting the Eitrhals back on me.
 For the first time ever, Hallvard looked directly into my eyes. His were
the very same hues of pale blue as Dann’s eyes, almost icy, but they weren’t
cold. Wide open, they stared into mine with pure terror.
“Do not take your Eitrhals off!” he ordered in a trembling voice.
His hands had landed on my shoulders, and even though the necklace
was on me, he didn’t lift his palms. His fingers clutched me too tightly, like
they mirrored the fear from his eyes. His lips were pursed in a thin line, and
he looked almost as if he was trying not to breathe.
If I’d thought Dann’s lurking was creepy at the beginning of November,
I didn’t have any words to describe exactly how creepy his uncle’s actions
were.
There was something off about this entire situation. Why had he rushed
to me when he didn’t even want to look at me? Why was he holding on to
my shoulders like that? Why was he being still and refusing to inhale, when
breathing was the most basic and instinctive thing all creatures did?
“Okay, I won’t take it off, I promise,” I uttered, drawing as far away
from him as his grip allowed. “Can you please let me go, Mr. Nordstrøm?
It’s starting to hurt.”
His pulled away with a loud gasp, fixing his horrified gaze on his own
hands.
“You… are… dismissed,” Hallvard muttered in broken syllables.
I got up and swallowed loudly.
“Did I pass your test?”
“You’ll receive the results tomorrow morning.”
Monika’s mom had answered on his behalf. Now, he stood totally
expressionless, looking at a blank spot on the wall across the table. The
other Council members were silently looking directly at me.
“Oookay,” I muttered, turned around and walked out.
This place was fucking insane, and while I had gotten used to some of
the craziness, the insanity meter just went flying through the roof!
* * *

I woke up to bright lights.

Violently piercing my eyelids, they burned my retinas, and I had to raise
my hand in the air, so I could recover from the painfully blinding sensation.
Slowly blinking and swearing like a sailor, I finally got used to the intrusive
light.
 Instead of coming from the window, it came from the door leading to
the small corridor and my bathroom.
Silver and lucent, its shine was like nothing I had seen in all my life.
Dazzling in its brilliance, it enchanted every cell of my being. I simply
stared at it, completely mesmerized, until I realized it was shaped like a
gigantic gateway. At least three people could have walked through it,
standing next to each other, and neither of them would have obstructed the
other two’s path. Stretching all the way up to my room’s tall ceiling, the top
was round and arched. All that was missing was a threshold and someone to
walk through it.
That someone wasn’t far behind.
One by one, a total of five humanoid figures jumped out of it, all of
them dressed in black hooded cloaks. With each jump, threads of silvery
light stuck to the black cloth, as if the dazzling matter from which the
gateway was made unraveled, then sewed itself back together.
As I watched the same process over and over again five times in a row,
a distant memory surfaced in my mind. Monika and Dann had both
mentioned I’d need to get the hang of portals before I could go on the
floating islands.
Was this what portals looked like?
The five figures lined in front of their gateway in a circular, almost
crescent-like formation.
“What’s going on?” I asked, jumping out of bed and taking a stand a
few steps away from them. “Who are you?”
“Neptunia Prata.”
The voice seemed to come from the one in the middle. Each syllable
was accompanied by a strange echo. It warped the sound and made it
bounce off every single surface in the room, including the soft ones which
should have been sound-absorbent.
“Who are you?” I repeated, readying myself for the worst – an attack.
The figure on the far left took a step closer, but didn’t speak.
I was never one to flee from a direct conflict, especially when others
openly provoked me. Furthermore, my Elemental test had made me more
confident in my powers. And I sure as hell wasn’t going down without a
fight, regardless of who stood before me.
“Back away,” I warned, raising a hand, “or you’ll fucking regret barging
in here.”
 “Wait.” The figure spoke in a male voice, but it sounded like the
previous – warped, inhumane and unnatural. “You know me.”
“Do I?” I snapped with irritation, curling my other hand in a fist.
“Yes, you do,” he said in English, and the resonating, sound-warping
echo disappeared, leaving only a quiet, velar, deep voice which I couldn’t
confuse anywhere. “She bade me travel to a place where travel one cannot,
to meet with fair Mengloth. Do you remember?”
The darkness falling over his face remained true to the mystery, but the
clear sound of his voice gave it away. I didn’t need a visual confirmation to
know who he was. He hit the same low notes. He had the same accent in
English. And when he recited that poem, he brought the same strange
feeling I had experienced on a November night in the castle’s library.
No matter how many times I’d told myself to get over this fling
between us, how many times I’d decided it was a bad idea, how many times
I’d tried not to think about him… Damn it! Hearing his voice made me all
tingly and shit.
“Dann?” I whispered, taking a step forward, then another and another,
until I was a few inches away.
He didn’t reply.
I reached for his hood. The fabric was ethereal, almost slipping from my
fingertips, and I barely managed to roll it back, enough to see him.
But instead of Dann, I saw something else.
His skin, once smooth and natural, was now ripped open. Someone had
taken a knife and swung at his face again and again, carving jagged, gaping
wounds. Chaotic and uneven, they slashed his cheeks, nose, jaw and
forehead in so many places, my eyes kept running around frantically while
tracing them up and down. Instead of showing blood and tissue, his torn
flesh burned in bright emerald greens, cutting through the skin underneath
every wounded crevice.
“What…” I whimpered, staring into a set of blazing pits, which once
held the most captivating arctic blue eyes. “What are you?”
“Livløs.”
 

Loki’s Reward
 
Three days earlier
The Munkurin Rock
Faroe Islands, Denmark
“Rise, Dann Nordstrøm, descendant of Aia.”
I obeyed Njord’s command, rose from my kneeling position, and faced
the god’s eerie form. It was four times the size of a regular Midgardian.
Monochromatic and slightly translucent, it resembled a spirit’s apparition
rather than a fair-haired Vanir deity. I had summoned him here, standing on
a boulder in the middle of the ocean. Same as I had done at the beginning of
December shortly after leaving Nordstrøm Island.
“I beg your forgiveness for the intrusion.” Although this wasn’t the first
time Njord was hearing my words, they were sincere. “I need an audience
with your daughter, Freya of the Vanir.”
“Same plea as before, necromancer?”
“Yes, dear and just Van. Freya knows what I’ll ask, therefore she still
refuses to grant me her audience. I’ve searched all Nine Realms for a way
to break the curse she cast upon the Nordstrøm and Dustrikke lines. All my
attempts were futile, which is why I’ve returned to ask for your help.”
“And you are convinced the last daughter of Dustrikke will reciprocate
your heartstrings?”
“Yes. Learyn Dustrikke is not affected by Freya’s spell. She doesn’t
even know about the curse.”
“Have you given into my daughter’s spell, son of Nordstrøm? Have you
acted upon the attraction it bestows? Have you laid hands on the Dustrikke
girl?”
“No,” I lied, keeping a stern expression while replaying memories of
the first time I had Wandered into her dreams. I remembered her nightmare
and how her eyes were my undoing.

Those damned, cursed eyes!

I knew I should have seen Death herself in them. But instead, I saw the
humanity, compassion and warmth of the unspoken gratitude behind them.
Her guard was down, there was no trace of her bitter attitude. I was
mesmerized by the relief gleaming in her eyes, derived from the fact that
everyone was safe, including my sister. My sister. The one who had hurt her,
who had taken her life. She asked me about my sister’s safety before
worrying about her own!
Before I could stop myself, I lifted a hand and cupped her face,
caressing the heart of gold she hid under a shield of vulgar wrath and
mordacity.
Learyn kept staring at me without pulling away. I wondered if she could
tell by my expression how the evergreen and olive hues locked within her
stare pierced my soul in an excruciating way. I wondered if she could see
my overwhelming need to kiss her, and how my longing was more
harrowing than ever before.
Don’t do it.
This kiss wasn’t going to lead to some forbidden love story.
Don’t do it.
This kiss was going to lead to a quite literal and irreversible death for
both of us.
Don’t do it.
This kiss was going to lead to a string of events, which would unleash
Freya’s four-hundred-year-old plan to annihilate my entire family. This kiss
was going to erase every single Nordstrøm from existence. This kiss was
going to destroy the Dustrikke bloodline as well.
As if they had a mind of their own, my fingers gently fondled her skin
and slid under her chin, tilting her head. She was close, so unbearably
close, only a mere breath away.
My heartrate quickened, racing too rapidly. I couldn’t think clearly any
longer. How was it possible? How could this tiny, broken girl have the
power to conquer my decorum and common sense? How could she erase
my own pain, when she was constantly angry and hurting?
Do. Not. Do. This.
My heart skipped a beat, I took that short breath, erased those few
inches between us, and did the unthinkable.

And now I was lying straight to Njord’s face about it.

He clicked his tongue twice. “Shamelessly, you are lying to Vanaheim’s
wisest. And wherefore you stand devoid of slightest effort to appear guilty
for your treacherous misdemeanor?”
A cold fist curled around my heart. He knew?
“I beg your forgiveness for my foolish and remiss behavior, dear and
just Van. I feared if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be as generous as last
time, and you would send me away.”
“Though yet again you seek me for a passage into Sessrúmnir? When
you could easily Wander into Asgard and knock on Freya’s doors?”
“I have no right to ask you to change your daughter’s mind, so I only
ask you to persuade her to open her doors and listen.”
“Oh, yes, you are indeed a shameless necromancer.”
Brutal realization stormed over me, but it arrived too late. I had
summoned a Van, though what stood before me was a different deity. There
was only one god in the entire multiverse, brazen enough to impersonate
him.
“Loki,” I muttered with a sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I
should have guessed the first time you called me ‘necromancer’. Njord
never would have used this word.”
“Whoops!” He shrugged and bared his lower jaw in a grimace. “Busted,
as one like you would say. Do not beg for my forgiveness, necromancer. I
am fond of tales of heartbreak. They provide such… How should I put it?
They touch me. Delight me. Matters of the heart are joyous when they
speak of throes and agony.”
“You’ll have to find someone else’s throes to entertain you. Goodbye,
Loki.”
“I can help you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me well. As a matter of fact, I know about Freya’s spell. It
makes all of you male Nordstrøms long to roll in the hay with a female
Dustrikke. You being still alive means your loins–”
“I beg of you,” I interrupted him, struggling to keep an even voice,
“please refrain yourself from discussing my loins.”
Wasn’t it bad enough that my engagement had ended, my family’s
future was precarious, and I had embarked on a possibly fatal journey? Yes,
my sex life was non-existent since June, and I didn’t need a Norse god to
rub this fact in my face!
“As I was saying, evidently you have not rolled in the hay with a female
Dustrikke yet. Nevertheless, you lied to me about not giving into the spell,
when you have indeed acted upon your desires. For your earlier attempts to
shamelessly deceive Njord, the wisest of all Vanir, you deserve a reward. I
cannot reverse the spell, or the cursed outcome it triggers, but I can help
you get inside Freya’s abodes.”
A loud gasp betrayed my composure. “You know about the curse?”
“Oh, but of course. I was there when the famed Vanir wrath overtook
Freya. The remembrance of her fury shall never escape me. Ah, how
poetically she punished your ancestors for what they did to that young
Dustrikke child!”
Telling him I was different from my ancestors was on the tip of my
tongue, but I didn’t utter a sound. It was foolish of me to even keep looking
at him. Ninety-nine percent of his deeds were lies and deception. Despite
knowing it, part of me was willing to cross the borders of sheer stupidity.
“I will offer my reward once more, necromancer.”
“Why should I believe your words? You loathe Midgardians.”
“No, no. I am fond of Midgardians. They make movies about me.”
Loki’s deceitful form of Njord diluted in a blurry haze. The mist quickly
dispersed around him, carried over the ocean, and revealed a fully
corporeal, colorful figure of a dark-haired man. What stood before me was
the British actor who portrayed Loki in the Marvel movies.
His features stretched into a maniacal sneer, worthy of lunatic madness.
“This jocular fellow was notably entertaining to watch. Of course, the
story was all wrong, but he captures my dazzling smile quite nicely. Do you
not agree?”
“No, I don’t. Yours is of surpassing subterfuge and guile. He’s merely a
human, incapable of your cruelty.”
“You flatter me, necromancer. I like you.”
 You can make even a mischievous Norse god like you, but you can’t get
the girl you’re falling in love with, a cynical voice nagged in my mind.
Not for lack of trying, I nagged back.
From time to time, I held conversations with myself. Not because I
needed guidance from an expert, but simply because I had started
questioning my common sense. Ever since learning of that seeress’
prophecy for Learyn in June, I doubted my decisions, my good judgement
and my sanity more often than I cared to admit.
“All right,” I said after an eternity of silence. “Let’s pretend I’ll bite.
How can you help me get to Freya?”
“I will portal you directly inside Sessrúmnir.”
“So the goddess can obliterate me on sight? Thank you for this
courteous offer, but I’ll pass.”
“Fascinating! What reluctance you show for someone carrying such
desperation!”
Desperation wasn’t the correct term.
I thought about the last time I had seen Learyn, Wandered into her
dreams and held her in my arms. When she had told me to wake her up and
find her because she wanted to kiss me outside a dream, I’d been brimming
with hope. Shortly afterwards, my old frustration had resurfaced,
whispering how I couldn’t return to Norway until I had found a solution. If
not a way to lift Freya’s attraction spell, then at least one to break the curse.
Or maybe it was indeed desperation. Otherwise why was I still enduring
Loki’s presence?
“I would accompany you, necromancer. Dear old Freya and I have a
special bond. Who knows? Seeing you with me might coddle her enough to
grant you more than an audience. Dare I say… even grant your heart’s
desires?”
His index finger swayed up, painting swirls in circular motions, stirring
the air in a vortex of brilliant white luminescence. A moment later, his
portal was complete, floating vertically near the edge of the Munkurin rock
I was standing on. All I had to do was take a step forward.
I lifted my eyes to Loki’s ostensibly innocent smile.
As both of us stepped into the burning luminescence, I couldn’t help but
wonder if The Norns – our Fates – had woven enough luck into my destiny.
Was Loki’s reward for my lies one of the few candid acts of kindness he
had shown since the day he was born? Or was I about to become yet
another fool who had fallen prey to his cunning mischiefs?
What happened to Dann? Who are the Neptunia Prata? What was that
Livløs creature? Why is Vee always being so mysterious? What’s the
meaning of Learyn’s hallucinations?
Get the answers to these and many other questions in Rampant
Necromancer, book two in the Nordstrom Necromancer series. Grab the
book HERE.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
 
Amy B. Nixon is a designer and columnist by day, an aspiring fiction author
by night and a 24/7 caffeine addict.
When she's not working or writing, Amy enjoys cooking, playing board
games, taking roadtrips, shocking the people around her with dark humor,
playing the piano and ruining group photos due to not being able to pose
seriously for a proper picture.
Find out more about her on www.amybnixon.com