Chapter 10
Ten
Gunnar
Gunnar could still hear her screams echoing through the forest. Of course he had known it would be painful for her to have her leg reset, but something about her had made him wonder if she'd be silent through it. She hadn't even noticed the pain while he’d carried her.
Apparently, he had been wrong. She very much felt every moment of pain as he manipulated her leg.
Perhaps if she had been able to speak, she would have begged for a real healer.
But Ragnar was very much focused on his own wife, and a leg like this wasn’t life threatening.
It could wait until they reached Trollveggen.
She passed out quickly. The leg took a lot more manipulating than he’d thought because the muscles had already stiffened around the injury.
If he wasn't careful, he was going to pinch the muscle into the bone as it healed, and that would cause more issues.
He'd learned a long time ago that rushing a process like this would only make it worse.
Ragnar had hit him upside the head for worse.
By the time he had finished, so had his brother.
Maia was already sitting next to a tree, leaning up against it with her face still pale but certainly better than she had been before.
And so Ragnar headed over to Gunnar, crouching down to survey the strange creature they had caught up in their midst.
"She can go to the nearest village," Ragnar murmured. "They have a healer there. I assume the man is good. Her leg might never heal correctly, but at least she is no longer in that place."
"I'm keeping her."
"Her people will search for her, and we cannot bring back a liability like that to Trollveggen."
"You are bringing Maia."
"She is my wife," Ragnar bit out. "You know as well as I, this is a foolish thing to do, Gunnar. We cannot make a habit of stealing human women again, or the humans will have even more reason to hunt us. They already refuse to give us an ounce of rest. You think stealing more women will stop that?"
Gunnar sighed and leaned back. He looked at the woman where she had fallen, splayed out on the ground with her nearly white hair a cushion around her.
He didn't see just any human when he looked at her.
He saw a creature missing a soul. She was without it again.
He could feel that the body before him was almost corpse-like, but if he ordered her to do something she would come awake like he was some kind of necromancer ensorcelling her to do his bidding.
It was wrong.
It was twisted.
"When I agreed to become the Bone Keeper, it wasn't only because I wanted to help families.
It wasn't only because I thought I would be good at it, or that I knew it would give me a chance to hunt down Tindra's body.
" Gunnar shifted a bit, his claws digging into the ground beneath him.
"It was because I love to put people back together.
Dead. Alive. It doesn't matter. I like seeing someone be whole again. "
Ragnar nodded. "I know this about you, brother."
He gestured toward the woman. "What do you see when you look at her?"
Ragnar looked. He gave her a very detailed inspection, both with the eyes of a healer and a warrior, so Gunnar knew his answer was well thought out as he spoke.
"I see a starved woman, broken from her time in that place.
I know you think you can piece her mind back together, but a mind is a fragile thing.
It is not like healing a body. It's more like weaving on a loom.
One thread missing and the whole thing unravels again. "
"No," Gunnar replied. "Where is her soul, Ragnar?"
He could see the dawning of comprehension come over his brother as Ragnar breathed out a long, slow, horrified breath.
"Her soul," Ragnar murmured. "Where is it?"
"I don't know."
"Has she always been missing it?"
"No. It's there when she's awake. When she speaks, it is there.
I can see it in those moments, but now?" He shrugged.
"Gone. She can be awake and her body completely empty as well.
I've never seen anything like it, but I feel the ancestors telling me to put her soul back where it belongs.
She needs to anchor it inside her body or who knows what monster could take an empty shell like this and use it. "
Ragnar's fingers flicked at his shoulders, peeling off the bad energy he must have felt swell around him at Gunnar's words. In truth, even Gunnar felt it.
The forest was heavy with the truth of what could be if they didn't help her.
There were many things, even here, that would love to slip into her body.
There were many spirits, demons, creatures that didn't have a name, all of them seeking a body that had been denied to them for centuries on end.
It was truly terrifying to even think about what could happen to a woman like her.
Gunnar nodded. "So you see why she comes with us. I will not allow someone like this to bring about ruin to our people."
His brother was already nodding along with him. "She comes. But she is your responsibility."
"Understood."
Ragnar patted his shoulder forcefully and then stood. "We are going to be here for a little while yet. The scouts went up ahead to make sure our path is clear, and then we will continue into Trollveggen. I'll see to her leg when we arrive."
It was better than he could have asked for. Ragnar was under no obligation to heal a human like her. They could let her heal naturally. Magic was finite, and for the great healer of Trollveggen to even offer his magic for someone who wasn't dying was perhaps a great waste of energy.
Gunnar was just grateful that Ragnar would even offer.
Their relationship was good, but tense, since they had lost Bjorn.
Neither of them could deny the other anything, though.
They were bound together, soul-tied, for all the years that they had fought together, argued, trained.
Killed when they were required to do so.
Gunnar turned his attention to the woman at his feet. He didn't even know her name, he realized. She hadn't ever told him. All she'd done so far was stare up at him with her dreamy expression that was somehow endearing and also frightening.
What did she see when she wandered like this? What realm did she enter, and was it safe for her?
He leaned a little closer, carding his claws through her white-blonde hair to untangle some of the knots that had grown wild in their frantic run from the city. "I promise to keep you safe," he murmured. "You no longer have to fear who is coming for you. This is my vow, fair lady."
He didn't know why he wanted to make the vow, or how he would even keep it. But he knew it was important. Almost as though he could feel the hand of the ancestors pressing down on his shoulders, guiding his words.
She was important enough to make the vow. She was worthy of it.
Then those blue eyes blinked open to stare up at him. He thought perhaps she would recognize him, but all he saw was fear.
"Please don't hurt me," she whispered, the words so quiet he almost didn't hear them. "I'll be good. I promise. I'm very good at following orders. Just let me... let me live. For a little while longer."
What an odd thing to say. She should have recognized him. She should have known that if he... he...
"You met me before," he reminded her. "In the labyrinth. They gave you to me and I let you sleep. That's all I wish for you now, fair lady. Rest so that we might travel faster."
Something passed in front of her gaze. Not quite a shadow, but almost a hint of a soul returning. Like she hadn’t quite been herself when she’d woken, not really in her body, and now she firmly was.
"Fair lady," she repeated. "You called me that before."
"I did."
"The troll with the wild hair. That was you."
Wild hair? He rather thought his hair was nice. He'd been known throughout his life for having nice hair.
Clearing his throat, he reached out a hand for her to take so he could help her up. "We don't have long to rest here. Soldiers follow us, and the only safe place is the mountain."
Her fear returned once more. "The mountain? You mean... you mean the troll mountain?"
"That's exactly where we have to go. It's the only safe place from the men who trapped both of us.
" He wiggled his claws, hoping she would get the hint.
He could already see the others were gathering what meager supplies they had stolen along the way.
"We have to get going or we'll fall behind.
And trust me, we don't want to fall behind. "
He watched a war happen within her. She looked at his hand, and he could see the distaste in her gaze. She didn't want to touch him, but he wasn't sure that emotion was coming from a place of being frightened of trolls.
Oh, she certainly didn't like his people.
She glanced at all the other trolls, the ones who were far more terrifying than he was, and shrank into herself.
She was not comfortable here. Not in the slightest. But he was a monster she knew.
A monster who had not yet hurt her, and still she wouldn't touch him.
"Is it because I'm a troll?" He couldn't help but ask.
She glanced up at him, those pale eyes going even wider. He thought she would disregard his question. Someone who truly hated his people might have.
The woman shook her head in denial.
"Not because I am a troll." He crouched down in front of her, his hand still outstretched for her to take. "Then is it because so many have touched you without permission?"
It was a shot in the dark. He knew that it might not land, but then her features somehow went even paler. Her lips compressed into a narrow line, and he could almost see the teeth behind them.
Another nod.
An admission of what her life had been like before him, and he couldn't even guess how long it had been.
Gunnar scooted closer to her, enough that he could see her trying to fold in on herself, but her broken leg wouldn't let her curl up the way she wanted. "Can I tell you a secret?"
She kept staring with those wide, distrusting eyes. In this moment, she wasn't a free-thinking woman. She was a cornered animal, prey, who knew that if she took her eyes off the predator in front of her, she would get hurt. Again.
"I have no interest in harming you. I know there are some trolls who might want to do that, but even they are that way because they themselves have been hurt.
I don't know your story, where you came from, how you came to be.
But I think I would like to hear that story someday.
While you were asleep, I promised that I would keep you safe. That includes even from myself."
"You cannot make a vow like that," she replied, her voice raspy and low. "It's one that will be broken."
"I am made of stronger stuff than mortal men." Gunnar drew out a knife from his belt. It was one he had stolen on the way out that had been on a grindstone, left there by a careless hand.
He noticed the sudden stillness of her body and the wandering direction of her gaze. She was going to slip away from him again. That easily.
The sound that erupted from his throat was a little like that of a hawk.
He'd been working on the call for a while, but it was so high pitched and so strange to her that her gaze snapped right back to him.
The oddity kept her grounded, good. At least he knew he could be unexpected and she would react.
Gunnar pointedly looked down at the knife in his hand and drew it across his wrist. Her sharp inhalation was followed by a little snort of disbelief when no blood welled.
"Stronger stuff," he said, pressing the point against his skin so she could see how hard he was pushing and how it hadn't yet cut him. "I am no mortal man who cannot protect you. I am made of leather and mud, talon and fang. When I vow to keep you safe, I will do so."
Her eyes flickered. He watched the pupils shift and move as her soul seemed to zip between this realm and another. She was here, and not. Gone and back in an instant.
He wondered what had happened, but had no idea how to ask her if she had walked out of her body and returned in a mere breath.
"I find it hard to trust anyone," she whispered. "But I will trust you."
Gunnar slapped a fist to his chest, the sound meaty and loud in the clearing. Even a few trolls looked over at him at the sound. "It is an honor to serve you. For now. Until you no longer have need of me."
Then he held out his hand again.
She still looked uncomfortable at the idea of touching him. Likely at the idea of touching anyone at all.
"It is not a human hand," he murmured. Again, it was another guess.
One that he hoped she would recognize for what it was.
"You can see how different it is. The claws on my fingers can scratch your skin, so be careful when you take it.
But you can see how much larger my hand is. You can feel the magic in it."
"Magic?"
He hadn't used his magic in a very long time. He hadn't needed to. The shadows had always clung to him, and Gunnar was particularly good at hiding himself. For her, though, he would cast one illusion even if it made him very tired to do so.
A flower bloomed from his palm. The stalk unfurled, maybe half a foot tall until a giant rosebud appeared and then grew into a red flower that dripped in golden sparkles.
"Illusions are my magic," he said. "Parlor tricks, some might say. Useless because I only make small things happen."
The gold sparkles raining off his magical flower reflected in her eyes. "How did you know?"
"Know what?"
"My name is Rose."
He let the spell die, so surprised he forgot to hold it. He had merely thought of a flower she might like, and couldn't have guessed that it would have special meaning to her.
Once again, the ghost of a priestess’s voice whispered through his mind. Her name is Rose.
Rose slipped her hand into his, and he closed his claw around her delicate wrist. "Rose,” he said. “It's very nice to meet you."
Then he swung her up into his arms and joined the others in their mad dash back to freedom. Back home to Trollveggen.