Chapter 22 #3
I shook my head as I took up my horn again. Taking several deep gulps, I tried not to imagine what feeling Darcke’s emotions would be like. Or him feeling mine.
Thankfully the conversation picked up, although I felt Geord’s eyes on me from time to time, but I continued to ignore him as I emptied the horn. When my full bladder made itself known, I got to my feet.
Night had fallen fast. The stars were brighter than I’d seen them in a while, and the aurora remained, although the colors were more muted now, as if the gods were preparing to pull in their bridges and find something else to entertain them.
An owl hooted loudly. I jerked when the blades of grass cut my wrists as my arms swung by my sides.
Dizziness came over me when I looked down, and another bout of nausea slammed into me when the grass whipped all around me, as if a storm had taken it and forced it back and forth.
I blinked hard, but the tree line ahead refused to settle, pulsing in and out of focus like a heartbeat.
A heaviness started in my fingers, and soon I couldn’t feel my arms at all. Then it continued through my legs, making my gut feel leaden and my shoulders so weighed down I should have sunk through the ground.
Laughter exploded somewhere behind me, and my blood froze to ice.
I tried to speak—to demand who was there—but my mouth was dry and uncooperative, refusing to form the words. Panic clamped down on my chest, and I stumbled, my boots tangling in the lashing grass as a heavy rhythm of footsteps echoed my own, closing the distance.
Light flashed, and the stars grew large, coming so close I could smell their strange scent.
Fuck, I cursed in my mind.
My thoughts snapped to the horn I’d set down. I should have fucking known better.
As more footsteps thudded behind me, I continued walking.
I was certain I’d fall if I tried to turn to check who was stalking me.
Darkness wrapped around me when I reached the forest, and if I could have, I would have jerked at the shadows whipping across the path and the sounds that were too loud—too close.
“Are you all right?” Ottoh came into view, his face as large as the moon working its way across the sky as it moved back and forth before me.
“G-get away,” I got out, my voice thick.
“You don’t look good.” The heir reached for me. “What happened?”
I slashed with a sluggish arm. “L-leave,” I snarled.
“Let me help you.” Ottoh looked behind me. “Did… did someone do this to you?”
Fear made my pulse thrum, and the adrenaline gave me a moment of clarity. I couldn’t be in the forest alone with these people. Not now. Not ever. Viljan would never be the heir for our people, so I needed to live. I needed to stay safe.
“Elvara!” Geord’s voice sent a wave of terror through my veins, and when Ottoh reached for me again, I managed to lunge at him, using my nails to gouge at his face.
His scream beat against my ears, but I didn’t dare stop when I finally caught some speed, so even though I smelled the iron on my hands, I forced my heavy legs to trudge through the woods.
I fell several times, and I had no idea how I got up again.
Everything hurt and was numb all the same, and I was injured.
Something warm trickled down my legs, and with every time I hit the forest bed, it was harder for me to see through the blood that spilled down my face from hitting it on hard roots.
“Elvara!”
“You can’t hide from us!”
“Let’s have some fun, little heir.”
“We’ll make sure you really enjoy your last night.”
Their voices were closer now, and I whimpered as I struggled out of the woods.
Light spilled out of the longhouse ahead, but the tents around it were quiet. Another sob stuck in my chest.
Who would help me anyway? Not the initiates. Not the king’s men—they wouldn’t interfere in what was a matter of the gods. I’d pushed away Ivren earlier, and Viljan was under his command now. No Viking would reach out a hand.
The low hum from the ships reached my ears, and I spun before I could second-guess myself.
One of my feet stopped working, and when I fell next time, I couldn’t straighten my leg.
Laughter followed me, and I knew they could see me, the torchlight lining the path to the harbor glittering over me and confusing me for a moment whether daylight had already broken.
I started crawling, digging my hands into dirt and grass and stone, pulling my body forward. More blood blinded me, but I didn’t dare wipe my face—didn’t dare lift my hands from the ground lest they also stop working—so I continued in darkness, fighting for every inch toward the docks.
“Wait for us, heir.”
“Look at her fighting so hard.”
“I can’t wait to put her in her place.”
“Does she think she’ll set sail?”
I screamed inside as my other leg went still, but just as I was about to give in—let the drug that coursed within me reign—my hands found wood. A trembling breath rushed from me as I used my last strength to drag myself to Darcke’s ship.
Placing a hand on her hull, I begged, Please. Help me. Please.
The bog oak pulsed beneath my hand, and I could almost hear her fury as boots found themselves on the dock. Wood creaked, and I yelped as the dock twisted. The screams behind me were swallowed by the splash of bodies hitting the surf.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Darcke’s face floated somewhere above me, and I only shook my head.
“Well?” he demanded. “What is this?”
“I—” I started.
The brow fell down with a crack, and I closed my eyes when the ship shook violently. The dock shifted as voices once again rang in the air, and it helped me roll to my side, allowing me to place a hand on the brow.
“I’m not strong enough to hold on,” I whispered.
The brow lifted, and as I suspected, my hand fell off. It slammed down before lifting again, repeating the movement until Darcke snarled, “Fine!”
I struggled to breathe by the time my body was lifted from the damp wood, and I whimpered as each step he took up the brow sent white-hot pain through my head.
Darcke set me down on the deck, and I collapsed instantly, curling into a shivering knot atop the dark wood.
My limbs thrummed with a white-hot ache, as if a winter fever had settled into my marrow, and I moaned at the breeze, which had been warm earlier but that now felt like a glacial squall.
“Why did you come here?” Darcke asked.
I shuddered even as the wood heated, the ship starting a soft tune that reminded me of rushing rivers at home.
“Why. Did you. Come. Here?” he echoed.
More shadows pressed at the corners of my eyes, and I took a shallow breath before managing to get out, “You hate me enough not to try something.”
Then I was swallowed by the dark waves entirely.