31. Maddy
Chapter 31
Maddy
T here are only a couple of rooks in the feasting hall when I get there, as it's so early. It's Tora and Roge, and neither of them try to talk to me about the Oskorela . I don't know if it's because I'm giving off vibes that tell them I don't want to speak to anybody, or if it's because they're afraid of me. Either way, I don't care. I'm ravenous.
I heap food on my plate and sit quietly as I methodically eat it all, constant reassurance that Sarra's going to be okay on repeat in my head as I chew.
I found the feather, and Erik's going to be able to help her recover. It's all going to be okay.
Erik has given me permission to take the day off, and I plan to spend it with Thyrvi in the Bear Wing. I'm going to store the memory of what happened yesterday, nap, and eat. All day.
Usually, I would have waited for the shock to settle before revisiting such an awful memory, but once my belly is full and I'm settled in the middle of Thyrvi's nest, I find a numbness has crept over me, and a desire to be in the cold, calm halls of the gallery sucks me in.
When I've built a—frankly horrific—ice statue of a shriek, I'm not ready to leave, so I spend over two hours searching for another ship name. I come up empty.
That doesn't mean I believe they aren't in there somewhere, but as I return reluctantly to reality, the sheer amount of time that might be required to find them all is dawning on me. So far I have two of the five, and that's taken hours already.
Deciding if it's a good idea to help Kain get his helm or not will be irrelevant at this rate.
"Thyrvi, I'm going to have to spend at least an hour a day searching memories before bed," I tell my bear, my resolve firm.
She's nestled into the hay and doesn't answer me.
"Are you awake?"
"Yes. What gemstone did you get?"
I haul myself to my feet and over to the pile of clothes I discarded last night. When I pull the stone from the pocket of the trousers, my eyes widen.
"I don't know, but it's beautiful."
I turn the bright orange gem over in my hands, marveling at the way it changes from red to white, just like a living flame.
"I think it could be a firestone," I add. Thyrvi's head is raised, but she doesn't get up to look. "You don't want to see?" I ask.
"Show me later." She gives a massive yawn and then flops her head down, sending hay flying.
Thinking she may have the right idea, I stow the gem with my other precious items in my book bag.
Joining Thyrvi, I snuggle into her side. I think I'm going to see twisted corpses and hear shrieking squawks, like I did all of last night.
But with Sarra safe, my belly full, and the memories secured, exhaustion wins. I'm fast asleep in seconds.
I sleep through Navi's memorial.
I feel equal parts guilty and relieved as I scurry into the feasting hall after everyone else is long asleep and load my plate with cold cuts and bread.
I still don't want to answer questions about her death. I'm not ready to tell people that she chose to take on the Oskorela alone rather than work with me.
On the way back the Bear Wing, arms loaded with food, I stop outside the temple.
"Navi, may you grace the halls of Valhalla," I whisper. "Thank you for the conversation we had when I moved out. You have my eternal respect."
When I return to the Bear Wing, I hear, rather than see, Inga. I slide behind a pillar while she marches through the hall.
"Don't worry, Brunnin. We'll get to go out there soon, and then we'll get our reward," she says.
I watch her ascend the steps on the other side of the main foyer from my room, her bear vanishing as she goes.
Is she sending her bear away each evening? It might explain why we so rarely hear her in the barn. Perhaps it is only Thyrvi who wants to be around all the time.
My own huge bear is thankfully done eating by the time I get to her nest, and she watches me happily as I tear into my haul.
I tell her about Inga dismissing her bear when she went upstairs, then look up the word Brunnin in my ancient runes book.
"Wildfire. Huh," I say.
"My name is mightier," Thyrvi announces.
"It is," I agree.
But I can't help thinking that Wildfire is a pretty apt name for the flaming black beast.
When I wake the next morning, I feel almost normal again. My appetite has settled, and my muscles don't ache. My mind is clear, and I am as restless as I usually am.
I'm on my way to get some breakfast when Kain melts out of the foliage by the temple.
"Freya's tits," I gasp, clapping a hand to my chest. "Don't do that!"
"Princess," he growls, and I notice the grim set of his face.
I frown. "What's wrong?"
"You really don't know?"
Panic takes me. "Know what? Is Sarra okay?"
"Sarra was going to be okay the second you found that feather and risked your fucking life doing it," he snaps at me. I almost take a step back.
"Kain?"
"Where is it?"
I stare at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
His gaze bores into me, and although his tone was accusatory, I can see the doubt in his eyes.
When he says nothing, I try again. "Why are you angry? What's happening?"
"You are the only person in this entire infernal prison who knows about the Helm of Embers," he grinds out.
"So?"
"So, where is it?"
His wolf is conspicuously absent, and I try to think before the intimidating presence of Skoll muddies my brain.
"Are you saying that someone has taken the piece of helm?" I ask him. He doesn't answer me, just stares, eyes burning. "You can't honestly believe I would do that," I say, unable to keep the anger from my voice.
"You are unpredictable, impulsive, painfully curious, and smart," he says. "And you lie." There's enough in what he's just said that's true, but that doesn't stop the bite of betrayal that he believes I would steal from him and then lie about it.
"Why would I take it?"
"Because you don't trust me."
I stare at him, and I am certain he doesn't believe the words.
" Should I trust you?"
"I told you I will wait until you become a Valkyrie before using the helm. I meant it."
"But you won't tell me what you're going to use the helm for. Or who you're going to hurt."
As I say the words, I wonder if maybe I should have tried to take the helm piece. It sounds like a perfectly sensible thing to do right now.
His shoulders drop and he hisses a curse. "Just tell me you didn't take it."
I take a deep breath. He knows as well as I do that I didn't take it.
"Of course I didn't."
His gaze drops, and when he looks back at me, the flames in his irises are gone. "I didn't want it to be you," he says quietly. My anger at his accusation vanishes, and my breath hitches. "But if it's not, then we have a serious problem. Someone else knows about the helm."