Chapter 21
RASHA
The warm, little rabbit is dead when Aslaug drops it in my hands, but I break its neck anyway to be sure. Knowing how easy death could have found either of us last night makes my stomach turn, and maybe it softens my anger at Shaw, if only for a heartbeat.
He knew what was down there and never told me, which pisses me off.
On my way through the snow, the massive reindeers paw the ground, and I stop to give them a closer look.
Last night in the dark, through my frozen eyelashes, I couldn’t see how beautiful they were.
Reindeer this large haven’t been seen in a hundred years.
I move closer to the left one’s velvety nose and reach for the bridge of her fuzzy face.
“Hello,” I coo, and she lifts her head to see me.
Her rectangle eyes are bright gold with a black center.
I try to stay mad at Shaw, but how can I now?
I am here, face to face, with an epic reindeer because he trusted me to open the tomb.
Leaving the reindeer, I pat the pants he gave me to wear, looking for a knife.
I realize I’ll have to return to the sled to get one.
“Here,” Shaw offers, walking casually toward me with the handle of the blade out.
“Thank you.” I kneel to strip the fur from the rabbit’s body. It comes off in one clean pull, and then I start to gut it.
Shaw brings over a small pile of wood and builds a fire.
I feel him watching me, but I stay focused on gutting the rabbit.
The warm, little organs slipping through my chapped hands remind me of my fear from last night.
I don’t know if I shiver from the cold or from the remnants of my ordeal.
Shaw lights the fire and hands me a decent stick to skewer its body.
“You’re very good at cleaning that rabbit,” he says, taking a seat across from me.
I ignore his feeble attempt at a compliment.
He takes the bloody organs out of the snow where I tossed them and hand feeds them to Aslaug.
She’s purring like a giant barn cat and licking his hands in a lovely way.
The hands that were all over me earlier.
The foolish part of my heart wants him to touch me again.
Shaking my head as if I can shake away my problems, I sit by the fire to slowly turn the skewer. Aslaug trots into the woods, leaving Shaw to rub his jaw with tangible apprehension.
“My parents taught me how to hunt.” I give in a fraction. Keeping his elbows on his knees, he lifts his face to look at me across the dancing flames.
“They are no longer in this world?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“They married without consent, and my father refused to pledge a clan, so they left civilization. From what they told us, my mother was happy to be free, and they lived alongside the creatures of the forest. Jorvik came first, and I came second. Sometimes I am afraid that what I remember of my childhood is all but a lovely dream, and it wasn’t as wonderful in reality. ”
“I am sure there were hard days. No one can control their body the way you did in the fjord if they haven’t experienced plunging into ice water before.”
A laugh escapes my lips. “At the rise of Spring, my father used to make us dunk ourselves in a defrosting lake or river so we would know what to do if we ever had to escape freezing waters.”
“Sounds like he was a good teacher.”
“He was.” I shut down and wrap my arms around my legs.
Talking about them is always hard. They thought what they were doing was right and that we would live abundantly in the mountains, but they didn’t plan for the clans and their death.
Shaw doesn’t pry, instead he walks around the fire to turn the skewer when I all but give up.
We eat while the reindeer dig up enough underbrush to make themselves happy.
After covering our tracks, Shaw takes a small knife and slits his palm.
I pretend I’m busy securing our things to the sled as I watch him draw runes on the tree trunks and in the snow.
Sliding over on the bench when he comes to sit next to me, I can’t keep my eyes from darting from his to the reindeer in front of us.
“Are you going to ask me about the runes?” he questions, taking up the reins.
“Nope,” I reply, and he snaps the leather, making the reindeer move forward and gain momentum.
The trees shimmer with melting snow as we leave our safe clearing and head deep into the unknown.
Midday sun streaks through the ice, casting rainbows of color across the untouched forest. Aslaug leaps into the bed of the sled and curls up in our blankets to hitch a ride the rest of the way.
After a while, my eyes grow heavy with the smooth movement of the sled, and I start to drift into Shaw’s shoulder.
“You can be mad and rest at the same time,” he whispers over the wind whipping around our faces. His leg hooks onto mine to keep me from being tossed as the reindeer bank a hard left to avoid a frozen brook.
“Can I trust you?” I twist into his body.
“I want to say yes, but there are things you don’t know. They are my burdens to carry.” He keeps his eyes forward.
“I can carry them with you? I am no stranger to burdens.” I don’t know why I’m offering when it seems he’s already given me his burdens without explaining what they are.
“I don’t deserve that kindness,” he says.
I feel his sorrow like the slow ache of a frozen heart, coming from the amulet tucked away in the pocket of my shirt.
If I didn’t feel the heartache, I would ignore the tiny, slow pulses connecting our blood.
It matters less that I didn’t know about the magic when I remember he could have let me burn or drown once I had the bow, but he saved me instead.
I would never have known how strong I am without that opportunity.
Whatever he’s keeping to himself, maybe his guilt is too great to explain it.
I know that feeling, so I press my hand over his heart.
His body moves in response, bringing me closer.
Resting my head on his shoulder for a few hours, I fight sleep, telling myself I don’t want to miss the beauty of the quiet woods.
Safely sitting together on the sled we gain altitude, moving through thick pine trees and dense evergreens.
I don’t know how Shaw remembers the way because everything starts to blend together.
Without a word, he slips his hand over mine, reaching up my wrist to find the bracelet wedged against my forearm.
“I need the chain, Rasha,” he explains. I wiggle my wrist to slide the pretty silver metal down my hand. Removing the delicate chain, I give it to him and wait for some chasm in the forest to open.
It looks like he is counting the links or saying a prayer, and suddenly, my peripheral vision vibrates, shaking my line of sight. With another hard turn of the sled, I am thrown further into his lap, and I reach around his waist to hold on.
Snowflakes fall fast, tickling my nose and blurring the scene in front of us. Tucking his arm around me, he yanks the reins, and the whole sled moves forward a few inches before slamming back into the snow.
“No one can find you because you use magic to hide?” I ask in disbelief.
“I use remnants of what I have left to protect myself.”
“Sounds like the same thing to me. Why do you have magic anyway?” I retort and jump off the bench.
His cabin is bigger than I expected. Aslaug perks up behind us, shaking abruptly to remove the caked on snow that coats her thick fur.
I take the quiver before anything else, making sure the amulet and bow are safely inside.
Aslaug brushes her happy body against mine and runs around the snow like a puppy. Her huge paws propel her toward the door.
“She’s happy to be home,” I can’t help but point it out. He looks at his cat with that core-heating, satisfactory smile and unhooks the reindeer. They make their way behind the cabin like they’ve been here before.
“You are welcome to go in and get warm. There should be firewood by the hearth.” He gestures to the door where Aslaug is plastering her body against the handle.
Taking two bags of blankets and clothes out of the sled to carry with the quiver, I walk through the knee deep snow to the door and expect it to be locked. But the same feeling I had when I held the amulet returns, and I wrap my hand around the handle till it slowly opens.
Aslaug doesn’t even wait, pushing past the half opened door to run between my legs and inside her home.
“What magic has Shaw shared with me?” I whisper into the shadows of the cabin.
We are connected clearly by something I didn’t know existed.
Dumping the things on the first table I see to follow Aslaug to the hearth.
Everything in here is carved, from the door frames to the table legs, to the many palm sized statues along the mantle. Shaw’s skills are on full display.
A pang of sadness hits me that no one has ever seen this in all the years he’s lived alone. I take wood from the rack to set up a fire and use one of the many strikers from a nearby basket to light the hearth. Aslaug rolls around on the rug, showing me her pretty white belly.
“Can I pet you there or will you nibble on me?” I ask, stroking the sides of her freshly healed ribs. The door opens and closes with a gust of snowy wind swirling around the cabin. Getting back to my feet, I keep the table between us and watch Shaw set his things in their places.
“What else can I help with?” I ask, needing to do something to distract me from the one bedroom with one bed past the kitchen.
“First, this goes back inside the bracelet.” He reaches across the table, holding the chain, but I hesitate. “Or I can keep it. But rightfully, the next steps are yours to take.”
“What does that mean?”
“The chain needs to be finished. You are smarter than you give yourself credit for. I know you felt something when you opened the door, when we crossed into the Sacred Forest, and when you touched the amulet.”