“I think it’s best if we split up,” said Katla. She’d sulked back once the sun started to set, letting the door slam behind her and thumping on the pile of blankets as if nothing had happened. Our host, now hunched in the corner, gave her another scowl. I doubted he would forgive her anytime soon.

  I waved for her to continue. The afternoon had been full of debates on how to retrieve Duran. Unnr’s original plan had hinged on her accompanying Duran to the front gates and requesting a tour while the rest of us snuck in through a “secret way” that Katla apparently knew.

  Given that Duran wasn’t around, we’d already fallen at the first hurdle. Not to mention Unnr and Gorm’s… disappearance. At least Unnr was in the Beetle’s good books, I told myself, but I couldn’t make it stick. Drowning wasn’t a good death, no matter how blessed you were. As for Gorm, I doubted he had been blessed at all. We should have told him to stay in Clam Cove.

  “Elysia, you could follow the original plan,” Katla said, interrupting my thoughts. “Try to demand a tour. No one else has the audacity to make it stick.”

  I tried to be insulted by that comment, but it was true. Everyone else was familiar to the school (Katla), obviously magical (Harald), or too nice (Apis).“What would the rest of you do, then?”

  She pointed at Harald. “He needs to find us a new ship after crashing our last one.”

  “Not my fault,” he bleated. “But I could look. No one would comment on a goat walking around the harbor.”

  She then pointed at Apis. “And he could come with me, to support my story as I try to rejoin the ranks.”

  I took a too-long sip of our latest batch of tea. We’d reused the leaves, so it was a much paler color and didn’t taste of much. “What exactly do you do? Why do you need Apis?”

  I still hadn’t forgiven her for the temple. I would never be able to forget those glowing eyes, the way her summoned servant had nearly knocked the door over on us. Sending Apis off alone with her sounded foolish at best. He didn’t even regularly carry a weapon.

  “Well…” If I didn’t know better, I would have said Katla looked sheepish. “I didn’t leave the school on the best of terms,” she muttered. “I had a bad feeling about the winter festival, and we’d failed our mission, so…”

  “I thought my blood counted for something.”

  “I knew if I came back, I would be put back to work without the chance to heal.” She held out her arm as if that would fix the way she’d changed the subject. I considered pursuing it, but decided to let it drop. If she had my blood, I couldn’t get it back from her anyway, not without destroying the fragile peace we’d come to. If I was lucky, she’d dropped it in the ocean when we wrecked.

  “What exactly did you think they would make you do?” Even a strange military academy surely understood the need to heal.

  “I am fundamental to ongoing projects,” she said, still arrogant even in a small cabin. “They have missed me as much as they’ve cursed my name, surely. If I bring an offering they’re sure to let me back in.”

  Everyone was staring at me again. I leaned back and stared at the rafters, turning it over. Half of me wanted to reject the idea out of hand. It was a horrible idea to trust Katla, especially with Apis, who would probably say she was ‘just being helpful’ even if she tried to kill him.

  Still… Apis wasn’t entirely helpless. And he was the one person here I genuinely trusted. Maybe he would be able to fend for himself.

  I sighed and turned back to face the room. “What do you think, Apis?”

  I didn’t know why I’d expected anything else. He brightened, straightening a little where he was sitting on the floor. “Anything to help.”

  “We’ll leave now, then,” Katla interrupted. “My division is more active at night.”

  As they stepped out, I swirled the horrible tea and tried to tell myself it was a good idea. He’s a grown man. He can handle himself.

  By the time I looked up again, they were both gone. All that remained were me, the goat, and the man who owned the house. “Want tea?” I said to the room at large.

  No one responded. I was left to lean back against the wall and try to get a little sleep before my attempt the next morning.

  The next morning dawned violently bright and loud, the cawing of seagulls interrupting any thoughts I might be able to keep in my head. I winced as I pulled open the door. It almost looked pretty in the pale morning light, sun shimmering over the waves and water cresting over the rocks in the harbor.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  I wasn’t so easily fooled, however. I could still remember the sharp cold of the water. As I pulled my boots on, I looked over at my shoulder at Harald. “You’re going to get us a boat.”

  It was more of a statement than a question. He clambered to his feet at my comment, blinking thoughtfully. Or maybe he was ignoring me. It was hard to read a goat’s face. “I’ll look,” he said. “Good luck on your mission.”

  I was going to need more than luck. Still, I straightened my shoulders. It was the least I could do for Duran.

  I had worried about finding the school, but now that the fog was gone I was able to find a trail that wound into the trees. It was well-trodden, mud instead of snow, sheltered by countless trees. I trodded along and tried to enjoy the natural environment.

  I found myself looking for wildlife, instead. Did wolves live up here? Was one of them going to attack?

  I kept my hand on the sword, just in case. I was still looking over my shoulder anxiously for eyes in the darkness when I rounded a corner and the school came into view.

  It wasn’t impressive. It was a cluster of wooden buildings, all relatively new, enclosed by a log fence. It was almost… temporary-feeling. While the Temple of Teuthida had been obnoxiously permanant, this looked like someone had planned to take it all apart as soon as the weather got worse.

  It hardly mattered, I decided. No matter what it looked like, Duran was in there. Not to mention all of the other prisoners. After all, I told myself, you were imprisoned in a wood room once. It did well enough to keep you in check.

  The reminder did nothing to help my trepidation. I stared once more at the smoke billowing from the chimneys, the movements in the muddy yards below. Then I forced myself to walk forward. Audacity. I have to use all of my audacity today.

  As it happened, I didn’t get to use any of my pre-planned claims. As I finally got close to the gate, I found that someone was already shouting. With every step, I heard more- “Heir of the family”, she shouted, and something about “last of the line.”

  Unfortunately, the voice grew more familiar, too. By the time I was close enough to make out details, I was able to easily recognize the elaborate velvet cloak (purple? Really? I couldn’t imagine such a frivolous expense) lined with what was undoubtedly the fur of some rare and dangerous creature. The arm waving dismissively at the guard chattered with jewelry.

  She was rich. She was obnoxious. She was the Lady Sylvia.

  It was a strange tableu. Her elegant figure, limned in the early morning light, seemed so out of place in the mud and slush I could hardly resolve it as real. There was a single guard, maybe in his early twenties, leaned against the half-open door. He was eating a piece of cheese off of his eating knife as she harangued him.

  I cleared my throat when the tirade didn’t slow. At the noise, she turned on a heel, eyes widening when she saw me. The guard lowered his knife and pointed it at me. “Please tell me you’re here to deliver the gold,” he said.

  I glanced over at Sylvia. She glanced over at me. For a moment I felt like a girl again, caught up in wrongdoing at Sylvia’s demand.

  She rallied faster than I did, straightening her shoulders and turning to him with the derisiveness only a true noble could manage. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “This is my most loyal maidservant, the lovely Elysia. She has been searching the island for my sweet heir in case you have already murdered him and left his body for the wolves. Have you found the evidence of their wrongdoing, Elysia?”

  It really was like old times. I saw the guard slacken in confusion, his cheese dropping off the end of his knife and falling into the mud with a loud plop.

  “I did find some bones,” I said, the lie falling easily off my lips. “Couldn’t tell who they belonged to. Hasn’t written recently, has he?”

  Sylvia went into an elegant swoon, so perfectly angled that she didn’t get her hems any muddier before she collapsed into my arms. “Oh! Say it isn’t so! My sweet Servius, abandoned… no wonder he has not been writing home…”

  “We don’t leave bodies out for the wolves,” snapped the guard. “I don’t- I-”

  “I demand to speak to your manager!” shrilled Sylvia. “This cannot be borne! It is unacceptable!”

  She swooned again, even though I was already holding her up. As the guard turned away and closed the gate, she winked at me.

  “I thought you had a job to do in the capital,” I groused. I should know. I was the one who had sentenced her to it.

  “And leave my sweetling to northern mercies? I should think not,” she responded.

  Before I could reply, the gate creaked open. The original guard was there, as well as an older man with a truly impressive beard. “The headmaster will see you,” he told us. “You want your, er, maid as well?”

  “Of course,” said Sylvia. “Who else would catch me during my swoons?” She straightened up with precision and brushed off her skirts. “Take me to this headmaster of yours. I shall see my son this night.”

  “Not this night,” the guard told her as we stepped inside, the gate closing with a menacing thud. “The headmaster is busy with preparations for the festival. But we can… keep you comfortable while we wait for his schedule to open.”

  I watched as the guards pulled down a massive iron bar. We were stuck.

  “Excellent,” said the Lady Sylvia brightly. “The winter festival, I suppose? Hail Ursus! I hope you have a good menu planned. Why, back in the capital, I only have the best for our mid-winter celebration.”

  They continued to chatter as we were lead into the compound, following some outer trail to low building near the fence. It sounded almost normal here; I could hear the shouts of teenagers, some laughter. The cawing of seagulls above it all. Although I tried to spot what might be their prison, it all looked the same here. There wasn’t a sign of Duran, either. I would have to look more thoroughly later.

  “Until the headmaster summons you, stay inside,” said the guard, opening the door. “It’s not always safe for outsiders, here.” His eyes lingered on me. “Especially at night.”

  I wanted to argue, but we’d already been shown inside. The room was sparsely furnished, a pair of beds, a chamber pot and a hook for our clothes and not much else. Before I could ask any further questions, the door slammed shut. I heard a bolt slide closed as we were cast into dimness, the room only lit by a waxed-paper window on one side.

  “Well!” said Sylvia. “That went better than I expected.” She sat down and began removing her boots. “Now, tell me. Is there actually an evil darkness here?”