Chapter 40
Seren
Rykr’s soft call filled my head as I dove back into the water.
“Rykr?”
Nothing.
Dammit! A wave of fear surged through me and I swam faster, trying to return to him. What if I couldn’t find him?
“Rykr!”
Still no response.
Oh gods.
My heart pounded so hard that my chest felt as though it would burst. Dammit, dammit.
He only had precious seconds or he’d drown.
Bryndis help me.
Panic surged through me, raw and primal. I kicked harder, clawing through the freezing abyss, but I couldn’t see a damn thing. The water churned, rippling echoes of something moving beneath the surface—a presence shifting through the gloom.
Solric, please. Bring me some light.
As if in answer, a flash illuminated the shadows of the bottom.
If I hadn’t been freezing from the water already, goosebumps covering my skin, they would have risen now. Maybe Solric had heard me after all.
Then I saw him.
Limp. Motionless. Several feet below me, his body drifted, his arms weightless, his face slack—too still. My stomach clenched so violently I nearly choked on what little air I had left.
No. No, no, no.
I dove for him. A thick, gnarled vine had coiled around his ankle, its barbed thorns buried deep in his flesh. The sight of it jolted me into action.
I yanked the pin from my braid and stabbed the vine—hard.
Nothing. It was too thick. Desperation roared inside me. I hacked at it again and again, my hands shaking, my lungs screaming for air. Don’t black out. Don’t black out.
The flash came again, and the vine shifted, jerking away slightly from Rykr’s leg as though wounded.
Then—a shimmer in the dark. Another flash of light.
It wasn’t Solric.
It was a sea serpent.
A monstrous form, long as a full-sized ship, its glowing body pulsing with energy as it coiled through the water, its gaping maw parting to reveal rows of gleaming, jagged teeth.
Coming straight for us.
I raked the pin through the vine one last time, felt the sharp snap of it breaking beneath my fingers. Rykr’s body loosened instantly, free. I snatched him into my arms, kicking for the surface.
But the serpent moved faster.
The water around us shifted, a crushing current pulling me backward as the creature surged, its glowing eyes locked on us. I tightened my grip on Rykr, waiting for the exact moment—waiting for it to lunge.
The second its mouth snapped open, I struck.
I jammed the pin straight into the slit of its eye, twisting hard, a gush of blood clouding the water in front of me.
A horrific, high-pitched screech rattled through the water, vibrating through my bones. The serpent thrashed violently, its tail whipping around in a frenzy. Bubbles and current exploded around us, throwing us forward, straight toward the surface.
I kicked harder, my body screaming, Rykr heavy in my arms.
Air.
Behind us, the lifeless body of the serpent rose to the surface of the water, sending a monstrous ripple toward us.
That last cry of the serpent had shaken me in a way I didn’t fully understand. Like Haldron not only wanted to strip me of my life, but my humanity in the process—and I’d played into his hands.
But what choice did I have?
As soon as the water became shallower, I dug my feet into the mud, dragging him onto the bank. Ciaran and Amahle were already there, and they ran into the water, Tara following them, and together, we dragged Rykr’s heavy form out.
His head lolled to the side, and I laid him down, beating my fist against his chest. Desperate, I opened his mouth and set my lips against his. Under the water, he’d given me the very air from his body to keep me alive.
“Please, Rykr.” The bond between us was silent, distant.
I held his nose and breathed into his mouth, my cheeks puffing slightly. Once, twice … five times.
“Come on, Rykr. Please. Please come back.” I slammed my hand against his chest.
That I wasn’t dead yet was my only reason for hope.
Tears stung my eyes, and I lowered my mouth to his once more.
“Please.”
Then he coughed, choking and spitting up water, his lungs expelling what he’d taken in under the surface. He drew a rough breath, and a cry left my lips as I dropped back, giving him space as his eyes opened.
“I’d ask if I died and went to Evermere, but you’re here,” he rasped.
Swiver. Despite everything, I laughed, relief filling my every pore. I bent toward him again and kissed his mouth, gently. “The cruel Rúna have sent you back. Even the weavers of fates don’t want you.”
His lips tipped in a smile. “Every time I’m staring death in the face, you decide to snatch me from it.” Rykr raised a hand, stroking my cheek softly with the backs of his knuckles.
I shivered, and not just because I was freezing after the plunge into the water and the frosty night air we’d come out to.
But because Rykr’s touch set my skin on fire, even when it was innocent. A lump rose in my throat as I remembered how his hands had brought me more bliss and satisfaction than I’d ever felt in my life. I sat up straighter, looking around me.
“Don’t thank me yet. I’ve dragged us out to the Havamal.” Cold, slick fear went through me as the stands of the arena swam into my view. Spectators watched, waiting to see us battle for our lives against the Skorn.
The crowd wasn’t just watching. They were feeding off this. Their laughter filtered down from the stands, together with drunken shouts, the clinking of goblets as if they were watching a troupe of dancers in a festival square, not people fighting to the death.
A celebration of suffering.
The Havamal, built on the side of the mountain at the base of Emberstone, held thousands of spectators. An enormous parapet protruded from the side of the arena carved into the mountain. Haldron and the other leaders of the Viori were seated there.
That would be where Rykr and I would have to find a way to strike, if we were going to be successful.
Even if we’d ruined our attempt to rescue Esme, if we could still kill Haldron, we might be able to free her.
Seth didn’t know it, but he’d given me more motivation than ever to strike—if I was going to die from poison anyway tonight, I had nothing to lose.
“How many other people made it out of the water?” Rykr asked, looking toward the dark, murky surface that now looked like a placid lake in the center of the Havamal. The ground we stood on was muddy—no doubt it had been flooded before this.
“I’ve seen three,” Ciaran said, panting. Water dripped from his face. “I’m not sure if any others will make it out at this point.”
“Where are they?” Rykr stood, alert and wary. “They’re as much of a threat to us as anything that’s coming next.”
“I’ll guard your backs for now. I think I’m the only one that kept a sword after swimming,” Tara said, her damp hair clinging to the sides of her neck. As much as I wanted my sister to be safe, having her here had proven to be a comfort, too. Her competence reassured me.
I scanned the arena of the Havamal, familiarizing myself with it. Besides the lake, the basin of the arena was barren, the only significant features consisting of enormous boulders that the amphitheater had either been built around or had fallen from the cliffs and mountains around us.
The pale light of the full Harvest Moon shone down on us. My shivering had gotten worse, my strength thoroughly sapped. I gripped Rykr’s forearm, hating how weak I felt. Any training he’d given me might be in vain after all.
Torches flared to life in the stands of the Havamal. The amphitheater erupted into cheers, the spectators reveling in our success—so far. All my life, I’d heard of the Skorn but never attended it … and yet it had never occurred to me how cruel—how vicious it was.
Even though he was some distance away, I felt Haldron’s eyes on me, knew he looked directly at me. Any reverence or respect I’d had for him had vanished, replaced by loathing. Every single ounce of pain and suffering that my family had endured over the last six weeks was owed to him.
To his hatred for Lirien.
His malice.
Maybe once I would have wanted to see our enemies defeated at any cost, but he’d involved my family in such a way that my eyes had been opened to the truth—we were the villains just as much as they were.
Peace would be the only thing that would heal our people, but that wasn’t what Haldron wanted. He wanted war and power.
I didn’t have much time left, but if my life counted for anything, then I would do whatever it took to stop him from leading my people to death and destruction in a war with Lirien.
Haldron raised his hands, settling the noise of the Havamal. The crowd leaned forward, their smiles and jeers sickening me to my core. This was meant to be a trial where the gods determined our fate. He’d turned it into a vicious game and allowed the crowd to think they were here for a show.
“Praise Solric on this sacred Harvest Moon!” Haldron’s voice boomed through the Havamal, clearly assisted by some form of magic.
Another cheer erupted and I inched closer to Rykr.
“Whatever happens, stay by my side.” Rykr’s voice filled my head. “Haldron will have tricks to play.”
Once the cheers ended, Haldron said, “We have a unique Skorn this year. With not just the normal sentenced, but traitors to the seat of Emberstone and a Lirien—a Sealed Pendaran who represents the best of their warriors. Let us see how he does against the mighty Skorn!”
All around us, gates opened on the walls below the risers where the spectators watched.
Cold gnawed at my bones as Skorn emerged from the tunnels, their faces painted with ash, dark kohl around their eyes.
They looked just as soulless as the Nyxwraiths had been. A quick, inexact count put them at over thirty in number. Haldron wasn’t taking any chances.
I backed closer to Rykr, each breath a ragged plume of mist in the night air. My clothes clung to me like a second skin, heavy with water. The moon’s pale light spilled across the Havamal’s vast, unforgiving basin, turning the jagged rocks and dirt into a silver graveyard.