The Runes Universe: Imperfect Souls (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 3

  The archery team practiced several yards away with their modern bows. They took their time when nocking the arrows and aiming for the targets. Their gazes, as well as those trying out, occasionally shifted to me.

  “Every single archer on the team chose to be an archer for Walkersville University due to our unprecedented commitment to excellence. The fact we’re also one of the top collegiate archery teams in the nation probably contributed to their choice to be here. They take pride in their dedication, and I expect nothing less from anyone on the team.” Coach Klein stopped and studied each of the fifteen people sitting on the bleachers who’d come to try out. He held up one finger. “One is all we need, so we will choose the person who shows the best aptitude. Please line up in groups of five in front of the targets and show us what you’ve got.”

  People shuffled down to form lines. They took a few moments to set up their fancy bows, using specially made bags. Their arrows hung from their waists, instead of being thrown over their shoulders as mine was. I chose the last group that had four and stood at the rear.

  “Where are you from?” A lanky fellow in front of me pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

  “Netherlands,” I said.

  “You came all the way from the Netherlands to try out?” he asked. “I thought I came a long way. That explains the different type of bow you have. It looks old.”

  “I live here, but I’m from the Netherlands.” I watched the first group nock their arrows.

  “Oh. You go to school here?” He acted surprised.

  I nodded.

  “Most of us have traveled from all over to try out,” he said. He surveyed the competition. “Do you like it here? Nice place to live and all?”

  “It’s adequate,” I said.

  He stopped talking to me, for which I was grateful.

  Some of the applicants’ fingers twitched, causing them to misguide their shots. Most took too long before taking their shots.

  The coach signaled the front line to step back, allowing the next in each to take their turns. The archery team ceased practicing to watch the tryouts. They commented on some of the players trying out, wagering which ones were the best. It would be challenging for me not to use Slagô’s magic and summon the next arrow needed right away, but I was skilled in pulling the arrows free from my shoulder sling.

  Once my turn came, the team members started snickering and whispering to one another about my archaic bow. I stepped up to the line and fired before the other two opponents had a chance to nock their bows. It hit dead center. Everyone gasped. I shot again and parted the previous arrow with the new one. Murmurs grew louder.

  “Son, what type of bow is that?” Coach Klein trotted toward me, his big belly bouncing about. He held his hand out, but I was reluctant to pass over Slagô. Not one person had ever handled my bow, other than me. “Is it Actionwood?”

  “It’s a family heirloom.” I allowed him to hold it.

  He studied it, pulling the bowstring. He measured the bow length with a tape and nodded. “You use no armguard, no brush button or grip.” He pulled out one of my arrows, caressing the feather. “How did you do that?” He pointed to the target.

  “I’ve been training a long time,” I said.

  “Brody, let me borrow your bow and an arrow.” Coach Klein held his hand out toward one of the team players.

  “Sure, Coach.” Brody gave him an arrow, which appeared to be made from plastic, and some type of mechanical-looking bow.

  “Can you do that again using this?” Coach Klein passed me Brody’s bow.

  It struck me as intrusive to use another man’s weapon. I wouldn’t allow anyone to use Slagô. Still, I nodded and took it.

  The bowstring moved with ease, and the arrow appeared sturdier than the wooden ones I’d used. I nocked it, aimed, and fired. It landed right in the center circle, splitting the last arrow I’d shot.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Did you even see him aim?”

  “He didn’t waver one bit.”

  Remarks and observations formed on everyone’s lips around me.

  Coach Klein continued the tryouts. He assessed every player with seemingly unbiased judgment, but I consistently hit the same mark each time with both my bow and the borrowed one. The volunteer retrieving our arrows had to remove mine right after I hit the target, otherwise I’d continue to break the previous arrow and it’d be unusable.

  The other competitors’ demeanors changed. Their faces grew long and dejected. I’d overheard many talking about where they’d come from, some having traveled great distances around the country to try out for this team. I felt sorry for them, which was an altogether new feeling for me.

  Everyone packed up their gear while I sat with my bow and watched.

  “Thank you all for coming out today. It was a pleasure to meet you all, and I’m grateful for the time and effort demonstrated today. Every one of you is very talented, and if you’re not made an offer to be on the team, don’t allow that to discourage you. I’ll post the choice online through the website tomorrow night. The practice schedule will be posted as well.” Coach Klein joined another coach off to the side as the students exited.

  “That was amazing,” Brody said. Two other guys flanked him on the sides. “I’m Brody. This is Lucas and Jace.” He stuck out his hand and shook mine.

  “Vali,” I said.

  “You have serious skills,” Lucas said. His dark hair complemented his olive complexion. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

  “I was born into a talented family,” I said. “Comes naturally.”

  “You’ll make the team, for sure,” Jace said. His tall and gangly stature made him appear clumsy. “Coach will probably even gather the funds to upgrade your equipment.”

  They examined my bow.

  “We are going to stop by Xanavoo to hang out later. Do you want to join us?” Brody asked. “We can fill you in on the schedule and tell you about our major competition.”

  “What time?” I asked.

  “Around 9:00 p.m.” Brody smiled. “We hit the jackpot with you. I have a good feeling about this year.”

  We parted. As soon as I was alone, I bonded with Slagô and headed home to ready for my night out with the archery team. They may not seem like strong warriors, but they did appear to be good guys.

  After finishing some classwork, I decided to walk to the club. If I fell behind in time, I figured I could engage runes. My exercise had been neglected since I’d arrived. Once I got a handle on my schedule with homework and archery, I’d like to begin a stricter endurance-training program. My body felt neglected and sluggish from lack of training.

  Cool breezes drifted by as I neared Xanavoo. Before classes started, I’d scouted out the entire town, so I had no problem finding the club. Music drifted through the opening of the club. Brody, Lucas, and Jace sat at one table near a bar on the other side of the dance floor. Jace spotted me first and waved me over.

  “Glad you made it.” Brody stood and shook my hand. The others followed. Their welcome felt genuine and uncomplicated.

  “Why here?” I asked.

  “The ambiance, of course.” Jace leaned back and cradled his head.

  “He means the girls.” Lucas smacked him in the stomach and laughed.

  “So, what do you want to drink?” Brody stood with their empty glasses. “My treat this round.”

  “I’d like an ale,” I said. The one thing I missed about the parties in Asgard were the drinks.

  “Right, so that’s like a beer?” Brody asked.

  I nodded. “Whatever they have is fine.”

  The drinks weren’t as great as the ones served in Asgard, but after a few, I began to feel more at ease. Before long, Jace, Brody, and Lucas loosened up quite a bit and forgot about archery competition talk.

  “I dare you to go talk to her,” Jace challenged Brody.

  “I don’t want to,” Brody said, a grin perpetually plastered on his face. “I bet she a
nd her friends would join us if Vali went up to her.”

  “No doubt,” Lucas said. “Every girl in the club has conveniently cruised by to check him out.”

  “Dude, you got a girlfriend?” Brody asked. “I bet she’s hot.”

  “No.” I took another swig of my beer.

  “See!” Brody’s voice rose an octave. “This is why you need to be our wingman.” He jerked up out of his seat and plopped back down.

  “How about I get the next round?” I grabbed their empty glasses and strode to the bar. As I waited on the bartender to fill the glasses, a familiar face walked in the front door…a Valkyrie. His name was on the tip of my tongue, but it wouldn’t surface… Andre, Andrew, Andris. Yes, it was Andris, the Roman.

  Covering my head with the hood of my sweatshirt, I took the beers to the table.

  The guys murmured their thanks.

  “So, Vali, what’s it going to be?” Brody asked. “You up for wingman duty?”

  “Some other night. I need to leave and finish my studies for the evening.” I gulped down my beer.

  “Aw, dang it.” Lucas frowned. “Now what are we going to do?”

  “You’re too responsible, Vali. It’s making us look bad,” Jace said.

  “Thank you for the fun, guys, but I really need to go.”

  Andris moved on the other side of the dance floor and up a set of stairs. Now was my chance to get out unnoticed.

  “All right, man, take it easy,” Brody stood, clamped my hand, and leaned in for a one-arm hug. I tensed and went along with it.

  “You, too.” I high-fived the seated Jace and Lucas. I doubted they were sober enough to stand. “Don’t drink too much.”

  “We’re good.” Lucas swatted the air in front of his face.

  I exited without running into the Valkyrie.

  It was 11:00 p.m., and streetlights lined the sidewalks on the way home. I planned to engage my runes and cut quickly across the park when I saw Reeve on the other side of it. She was followed by the same two Grimnirs who had been waiting for her on the cliff. The male Grimnir spotted me and grinned.

  Chapter 5

  “You’re too late this time,” the male Grimnir said.

  Engaging invisibility runes, I raced across the park and stopped next to the two Grimnirs.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Reeve staggered down the street, stopping at a tall house. She banged on the door. Lights flickered on throughout the first and second floors. Several heads peeked through the windows to see who was at the front door. The Grimnirs and I remained on the sidewalk watching.

  “Did she drink too much?” I asked.

  “No,” the female Grimnir replied. Her expression turned solemn.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  The door burst open. “What the hell?” Tate’s anger escalated quickly. “Are you stalking me now?”

  “You won.” Reeve held her stomach and leaned against a white stone column. “Your stupid, sick, fucking, asshole friends ran me off the road and started yelling at me. Did you know that?”

  “What did you expect?” he asked. “You’re acting like a lunatic. You’re a lying bitch out for attention. It’s over. Get it through your thick skull.”

  “You won’t have to worry about me anymore.” She held up a bottle, turned it upside down, and dropped it.

  “Dude, what’s going on?” Mack asked. Several other guys piled out of the front door.

  Tears flowed from Reeve’s eyes. She clutched her stomach, fell to the ground, and started convulsing.

  “Fuck me!” Tate said.

  “That’s that girl.” Another guy pointed at her.

  They stood there watching Reeve shake, gaping at her.

  An older man appeared at the door, seeing the scene for the first time. “What happened? Someone call 911.” He knelt next to her but didn’t touch her.

  “I don’t understand.” I stepped forward, but the female Grimnir gripped my arm.

  “She took the entire bottle of pills,” she said. “There’s nothing you can do to prevent what’s already happened. She doesn’t want to live.”

  Sirens blared down the road.

  A liquid started spewing from her mouth, and her convulsions ceased.

  An ambulance pulled up to the curb, and two paramedics emerged. One raced to her side and started CPR. The other pulled a gurney out of the back of the truck.

  “What did she take?” the paramedic asked.

  Tate bent down, picked up the bottle, and handed it to him.

  “How many did she take?” The paramedic’s demeanor seemed more hectic.

  Tate shrugged. “She took them before she got here. She only had the empty bottle and dropped it.”

  Two police officers arrived.

  The paramedics transferred her to the ambulance. The Grimnirs followed, sitting inside the ambulance opposite the paramedic working on Reeve. I joined them.

  “I’ve never seen this before.” I watched the man diligently work on Reeve, talking to her, trying to get her to open her eyes. He inserted a needle into her arm and hooked up a bag. Her heart rate beeped on a screen nearby.

  “We see it all the time,” the male Grimnir said.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I’m Kyra, and this is Itzel,” the female Grimnir responded. “And we know who you are, Vali, uncle to Baldurson, son of Odin, and the god of vengeance.”

  “Why did she do it?” I slid my hand down her arm. “She had so many more years to live.”

  “People do this type of thing for various reasons,” Kyra said. “Sometimes it’s loneliness. Sometimes they feel they’re better off dead than living. Sometimes they do it to remove their physical pains from ailments.”

  Once the ambulance pulled into Kayville Medical Center, two hospital workers met the paramedics and wheeled Reeve in. The Grimnirs opened a portal to the room, and I followed. Doctors and nurses swarmed Reeve. The paramedics let them know what she’d taken and left.

  They pumped her stomach, trying to empty the contents of what she’d taken. The scene was almost too much for me to watch. Her clothes were cut from her body, and it seemed wrong to be watching this unfold, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from her.

  She appeared helpless and vulnerable. She’d be embarrassed if witnessing this travesty. The redness her cheeks held when she was angered had disappeared. One nurse removed her shoes and threw a thin blanket over the bottom part of her torso.

  “It’s a pity to see someone’s life cut so short.” Kyra’s eyes watered. “She was pretty and petite, reminding me of a delicate flower whose petals were plucked too soon.”

  “Kyra still gets emotional, especially with the younger souls,” Itzel explained.

  “What will happen to her?” I asked. “In Hel.”

  “She’ll be taken to a nice hall where she’ll live through her memories,” Itzel said.

  “What if her memories aren’t fond ones? Does she live through those, too?” I asked.

  Kyra faced me. A hidden message gleamed in her watery eyes. “She’ll relive the ones that affected her most. They’re not always the good ones.”

  Itzel seized Kyra’s arm and swung her toward him. His eyes widened, and he shook his head.

  Even though she was taller than he was, her slumped shoulders made her appear to be his height.

  The heartbeat monitor thread slowed.

  “We’re losing her!” the doctor yelled before asking for some machine.

  Itzel pulled out his scythe. Kyra frowned.

  I did the most irrational thing possible. I drew my artavus from my boot, walked over to Reeve, and etched healing runes on her stomach.

  Chapter 6

  “I’m supposed to be dead.” Reeve stared at me as I sat in the chair next to her bed.

  “You’re not,” I said. The clock on the wall read 3:00 a.m., and exhaustion weighed me down. I wiped my eyes.

  “Where am I? Did they call my mother?” Her expression looked pa
ined, and for a moment, I believed she wanted her family by her side. Guilt etched inside me since I’d runed the entire staff. They had no idea she was in here for a prescription drug overdose. They thought she had collapsed from exhaustion.

  “They did not. You’re at Kayville Medical Center,” I said.

  “I don’t understand. What are you doing here?” Her soft voice didn’t sound like it belonged to her. She pulled the blanket to cover her entire body up to her chin.

  “I came with you in the ambulance. I was walking past when you collapsed.”

  Her reddish hue returned to her cheeks.

  “Do you want me to call your mother?”

  “No,” she said. “She wouldn’t come anyway. I’m not even sure she’d have come to my funeral.” A sadness I hadn’t seen before surfaced. She hid it under all the anger she carried. “I bet they all had a good laugh about it, didn’t they? The guys at the fraternity house.” She faced the wall opposite me.

  “Reeve, I want nothing more than to go rip their heads off,” I said.

  She turned her head to look at me again. Tears rolled down her face. “You were with them. Aren’t they your friends?”

  “No. I’d have no friends of that nature. They’re juvenile children not worthy of my time.” Anger bubbled to the surface when I thought about what she had said before she collapsed. “They hurt you.”

  She blinked. “I thought… You were playing ball with them…” Her countenance softened. “I’ve been an ass to you.”

  “That was the first day I met them. When they explained their game and I saw how that boy treated you, I wanted nothing to do with them.” Why do I find it easy to talk with Reeve?

  “What game?” she asked.

  She hadn’t known about their wager, and now wasn’t the time to tell her about it, either. Her already fragile psyche couldn’t handle finding out that her relationship with Tate had been a sham from the beginning.

  “Would you like me to call anyone else for you? What about your father?” I asked, hoping she’d not question me further.

  She shook her head. “No. I have no one.” Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. “I don’t have any clothes to change into either. I want to go home.” Her crying increased, and the redness brightened around her eyes.