Valkyrie's Sacrifice (Academy of Immortals 3)

But still…we’re restless.

It’s one of these days where we’re in the backyard. Morgan and I sit on a red and white checked blanket with the baby, marveling at her ability to roll over.

“She’s a genius,” I declare, knowing it’s ridiculous. Also knowing it’s true.

“You’re already her godmother, no need to suck up,” Morgan says.

I place my finger into Maeve’s and she grips it like a vice. “Just telling the truth.”

The guys are scattered about. Clinton and Agis working the grill—determined to show off their meat-searing skills. Sam and Marshal laying lazily on soft, padded lawn chairs. Rupert reads a book under the covered patio. Miya and Armin joust in the back corner with sticks, perfecting some lost martial art. Excited voices echo by the door and I shade my eyes, seeing Bunny and Dylan walk out of the house with a guest.

Professor Christensen.

I cast a wary eye toward the others. The professor isn’t a bad man, he just, more often than not, delivers complications.

After brief hellos and a lot of skeptical looks, he gets to the point.

“Since you’ve all had a few weeks to rest, I’m here to offer you a job.” His eyes flit over the Immortals and land on me. “If you’re interested.”

“What kind of job?” Armin asks.

Marshal leans against a pillar on the porch. “Mercenaries?”

“Contractors?” Agis tosses out.

“No,” the professor laughs. “A job, as professionals, not soldiers.”

The five of them look completely perplexed.

“Maybe a little more information would help,” I suggest. “What kind of work. Where is it located.”

> He smiles. “Ah, right. Well, it’s something you’re familiar with, actually The Academy of the Immortals.”

Marshal chokes on his drink. “Excuse me?”

“The Academy, when not being used as a training ground for the apocalypse, is a long-standing institution. Since the old one was destroyed, a new one has been created, and it needs a staff.”

“You want us to teach school?” Armin clarifies.

“That sounds like a fucking war to me.” Agis runs his hand through his hair.

“You would take the roll of administrators and instructors, something a few of you already have experience with. You’d create the curriculum, foster relationships with the students, and hopefully instill a better understanding of peace within the realms.”

There’s a beat of silence, no one quite sure what to make of his offer. Miya speaks first, “I think we should do it.”

Marshal gapes. “You’re crazy.”

“No, crazy would be living in the Guardians' basement forever. It’s another cell.” Miya sighs, glancing over at the men. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Dylan replies. Clinton looks a little bit offended.

Miya continues, “I’m tired of fighting. I know the rest of you are, too, but we don’t know how to do much of anything else but share our knowledge.”

Rupert nods, eyes flickering to life. “Will it have the same library?”

Christensen nods. “With access to the special collections as well.”

“I’m in,” he says without further hesitation.