Chapter 39
ERANN
The distinction between day and night, blurry at the best of times at the beginning of the Long Day, was meaningless.
He lay ensconced in layer upon layer of furs and wolf pelts and continued the slow process of healing.
Whenever he woke, Emma or Sereh was there for him, offering food and drink and the means to relieve himself.
When the pain was too great, Skaldi provided support.
On the rare occasions he managed to keep his eyes open, Erann was able to communicate further with Skaldi.
He explored their unique bond. Skaldi sometimes sent him images while he slept.
The dreams he had were disturbing in a way that was difficult to grasp.
Something felt wrong. Something felt off.
He couldn’t narrow down what it was as his mind was too caught up in everything else.
Emma, Sereh, Skaldi, Rankil, his mother, the avalanche, his sister, his brother.
He hoped his sister had made it to Uncle Thorkell’s by now.
They’d be worried about him. He was worried about them.
He found it hard to concentrate and be coherent when he did speak to Emma or Sereh.
Sereh had been attentive to his every need, but since the arrival of Emma, he’d felt a reserve in her behaviour. He didn’t like it. He wanted to be more open with her.
Finally, on the fourth dawning since the avalanche, he woke, coherent and relatively pain-free.
His hands were clamped on his father’s journal, although he couldn’t remember picking it up before he’d slept.
He knew Sereh was interested in discussing it and wondered if maybe that had been his last coherent thought before sleep claimed him.
Emma handed him a hot drink and a bowl of soup. He drank both gratefully.
‘How’s Sereh?’ he whispered to Emma. Emma seemed a little taken aback by his question. He imagined they were struggling to maintain civility. Sereh was all prickles and hurt feelings. Emma exuded a calmness she perhaps didn’t feel.
Emma answered in a whisper. ‘She seems… well. Angry but well. Be careful what you say around her, Erann.’ Her caution was edged with the sharpness of fracturing ice.
Erann nodded and then smiled.
‘Sereh,’ he called as soon as Emma had left his side. His voice was weaker than he’d have liked. However, Sereh was waiting for him. He’d sensed her impatience while he’d slept throughout much of the last few days. She stamped into view immediately.
‘I don’t like that woman,’ she whispered urgently, kneeling beside him.
He pushed some of his furs towards her so that she could sit on them instead of on the cool, black, cavern floor, which he realised was never as cold as he thought it should be.
She offered a tight smile and sat cross-legged on the furs, her long legs tucked tight to her body.
‘What’s she doing here?’ Sereh hissed, leaning forwards, reaching for his hand that held the journal. ‘Where did she come from? I don’t believe a word she says. She has more supplies than Rankil’s entire steading. There’s something odd going on.’
Erann glanced over her shoulder to Emma, even as he felt the familiar spark between him and Sereh. Emma motioned going outside. Erann nodded imperceptibly to show he understood.
‘I know it’s all very strange, Sereh, but I can’t help feeling grateful. She does have everything we need. And she’s more than happy to share.’
Sereh glowered, snatching back her hand to fold her arms across her chest. Emma stumbled over some loose rocks at the mouth of the cave, the sound echoing back to them. Sereh rolled her eyes.
He reached out and Sereh relented from her tight stance and examined his palm as she did so.
He watched her carefully. She was debating what to say.
Whatever it was, he would need to think quickly to offer reassurances and keep her trust. It was difficult to think clearly when she was running her fingers over his hand.
It sent delicious shards of warmth along his arm.
He could have enjoyed it all day long, but then she pierced him with her sharp blue eyes.
‘So, Erann,’ she began, her voice filled with icy resolve. ‘Any danger of you telling me what’s going on here? I don’t believe you. And I don’t believe Emma either. So you tell me the truth about Emma and what’s happening here, or I’m leaving.’
Erann flinched.
It was a no-nonsense, practical tone that dared him to refuse her. He knew she’d been treating him with fur gloves since his injuries. Now he realised how much she’d been sparing him these past few days.
‘Sereh, I have told you the truth and so has Emma, I believe. What’s all this really about?’
He was hoping he’d sound calm, reasonable. It didn’t work.
‘Do you take me for a fool, Erann Ramonsson?’ Her voice rose. ‘I know you’re lying to me.’
Her anger was building. Erann could already feel everything begin to spiral out of control. He pushed on all the same.
‘Sereh Hagonsdottir,’ he tried for a lightness of tone, ‘explain to me what doesn’t make sense,’ he said softly, using her full name as she’d used his. ‘Help me understand what you think’s happening?’
That caught her off-guard. She lifted her hands, pushing his back under the fur, and sat back, glaring.
‘Where shall I start? Oh yes, I know, with the most obvious. How did you survive that avalanche? There’s not a hope in Valhalla that I’d have been able to find you under all that snow, let alone dig you out.
At the time, I was so relieved I didn’t question it.
But now? People don’t just survive avalanches, Erann, not when they’re buried so deep. ’
Erann took a breath to reply, but she was just getting going.
‘Secondly, how did you survive the night on Vatna Jokull?’ She was ticking things off on her fingers. Gods, she’d thought about this a great deal.
‘Thirdly, who the hell is Emma Flokisdottir, where did she come from and why does she look so familiar?’
‘That’s at least three questions,’ he muttered mutinously.
She shot him a withering look. ‘Fourthly, what’s she been giving you? Because a broken leg should not be healing this fast.’
Erann blinked. Had Emma been giving him something? He thought it was something to do with Skaldi’s influence.
‘Fifthly, who, by the Gods, do you keep talking to when you think no one’s paying attention? Emma’s obviously aware because she pretends to be busy every time you do it.’
Sereh leaned in, blue eyes blazing with super-heated flames, and made him look at her.
‘I need answers, Erann. I deserve answers. I’ve saved your life how many times now? And you still don’t trust me.’ Her voice cracked. ‘If saving your sorry life twice isn’t enough, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do to earn your trust.’
She stopped and took a shaky breath. Erann wanted to look at her but was afraid of what he’d see. His eyes fell on Arrow instead, who watched them warily.
‘Erann,’ Sereh said quietly. ‘Please, be honest with me. You haven’t been out there for days,’ and here she pointed towards the mouth of the cave.
‘The thaw’s barely started. The Long Night was way too long.
And then there’s your secret journal.’ Her hands twisted in her lap, even as he gripped the journal tightly.
‘Something’s not right. You know what I mean.
And I think you know what’s wrong. Just tell me. Please, Erann.’
Her pleading tone was worse than the shouting.
Erann bit back the lies and excuses he had ready. She was right. She did deserve better.
But he couldn’t tell her.
And if he did, she’d never believe him. Skaldi and Emma had both made one thing painfully clear – she couldn’t know about the dragon, or drekki as Skaldi referred to himself, the name reminding Erann of some long-ago memory. He couldn’t go against their wishes.
He sat in silence, feeling torn in two, for so long Sereh huffed angrily.
That snapped him back to the present.
‘Sereh, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Gods, you’ve no idea how sorry I am. I care about you so much—’ He moved his hand from the journal to reach out for her, but her arms were folded tightly against her chest once more, and she shrugged aside so his hand fell once more to the ground.
‘If you cared about me, you’d tell me.’
‘But I can’t tell you,’ he said weakly, hating himself. ‘It’s not my secret.’
Sereh leapt to her feet.
‘Whose is it then?’ she demanded. ‘Is it Emma’s? Because, by the Gods, I will find out.’
The colour rose in her cheeks. She looked furious enough to hit him. He’d be terrified if she wasn’t so irresistible.
He closed his eyes. After everything she’d been through, at Rankil’s hands, all she wanted was someone to trust, and that someone was him. He wished he wasn’t going to be another person who failed her.
‘It’s not Emma’s either, Sereh,’ he said carefully. ‘And yelling at me isn’t going to fix this. There’s so much more at stake than you think. You’re right. This isn’t a small matter. This is huge.’ He reached for her hand again, desperate for a connection. ‘Please, Sereh, listen to me.’
She snorted and kept her arms folded tightly across her chest.
‘I need you,’ he said. ‘I need you here with me. Gods, I think I’m falling in love with you.’
Whatever Sereh was about to say stopped mid-breath.
For one perfect second, Erann thought he had her. Hope surged through him.
This, at least, was real. In this, he could be completely honest. He watched her, anticipation building. She would forget her questions. Her anger would vanish. He would heal, and then they’d leave this place, Emma would return to wherever she’d come from.
Then she inhaled sharply and the moment shattered.
‘Don’t think you can distract me. This is bigger than your feelings. I deserve to know, and so does everyone else.’
‘I didn’t say you didn’t,’ he retorted as angrily. ‘I said it wasn’t my secret to tell. Not now. Sereh. Please.’ His voice broke on the please. He glanced at her, admitting defeat. He’d lost her before he’d even had her.
Sereh stalked towards the fire.
‘Sereh,’ he called her name. She ignored him.
He tried to follow her but staggered back to the floor as pain erupted from his broken leg as he tried to get upright.
Sparks of light flew behind his screwed-up eyes.
Instantly, he knew that he’d just made the break worse.
He lay back, panting, listening to her storm around the cave.
He focused on his breathing, hoping she’d calm down and come back to talk to him. He could still explain himself.
Erann thought not telling her was stupid. He could understand that not everyone should know about the fact there was a dragon. But Sereh could be trusted. She deserved to know. He decided he’d have to convince Skaldi to let him tell her.
There was a scuffling noise from near the fire. He craned his neck and caught sight of Sereh putting on her backpack. His heart froze. Oh Gods, she was actually leaving. He’d thought it an empty threat.
‘Sereh,’ he called, but his voice came out thin and weak.
She didn’t answer him.
‘Sereh, what are you doing?’
He watched her adjust the straps and head for the cave entrance. ‘Arrow,’ she snapped the command to the wolf-dog.
‘Sereh, you can’t leave,’ he said desperately. ‘Not now, Sereh, please, please listen to me.’
He was met with stony silence, punctuated by a crunch of her boots on the stone floor.
He forced himself upright. If he could reach her – stop her, hold her – she’d listen. He knew she felt the same as he did.
Sweat broke out across his forehead. He felt nauseous. It’d been days since he’d been fully upright. Without Skaldi to block out the pain, it crashed over him in waves.
He grabbed a nearby stick left by the side of his sick bed, an old splint, and holding the stick with both hands hauled himself up. He almost made it.
Crack.
The stick snapped under his weight.
He hit the floor hard, pain exploding so violently he almost vomited.
A panting reached his ears.
Arrow stood beside him, staring anxiously.
Arrow, the whisper rushed back to him, like water flowing beneath ice.
The wolf-dog’s ear twitched, but she stayed where she was.
‘Arrow.’ Another command, harsher and louder than the first.
The wolf-dog offered him what he suspected was a pitying look and walked away, padding over the black rock of the cave.
Erann couldn’t even muster the strength to call her back.
Erann lay and listened to Sereh’s footsteps fade away – first over stone then over the rough crust of the avalanche-covered glacier. Then there was no sound apart from his harsh breathing and the occasional crack of the fire.
The only person he truly cared about had just walked out of his life.
He was alone.