Chapter 66
Nausea boiled in Saga’s gut, though it was not due to the wide-open skies all around her. It was Eisa—Saga had to get to her. Gripping Havoc’s mane, she pressed her chest lower to his sleek form as he sailed through the salt-tinged air.
Must get to her, she thought frantically, the tug of Eisa’s mind growing stronger with each passing heartbeat.
Saga had felt the familiar pull of Eisa the moment íseldur’s shores had come into view.
She’d also felt that other thing—the dark creature nesting deep within her.
Immediately, Saga had bristled. Never again would she listen to that voice.
Never again would she let it feed her deepest, most heinous desires.
But Eisa. Something was wrong.
Kassandr had found Saga unfastening the sling that secured Havoc in his stall on their merchant ship.
“I have to go to her,” she’d explained to her husband’s wordless question. “She’s in trouble.”
Kassandr had chewed on his reply, then to Saga’s great relief had simply nodded. “You will bring me with you,” he ordered. And though Havoc had snorted indignantly as the Beast of Zagadka climbed onto his back, her stallion seemed to understand the urgency of this moment.
And so they’d taken to the skies, Kassandr shouting to Rov that they’d meet them at the port in Kunafjord. Saga said a silent apology to Kass’s long-suffering second in command, who pulled his hair while shouting foul Zagadkian curses at Kass.
As Havoc carried Saga and Kass over angry frothing seas and closer to íseldur, her Sense had grown stronger.
And with it came awareness of something new—a pool of power behind her breastbone.
Cautiously, Saga probed it, trying to understand.
Was this the heart of her magic? If so, what was that other thing…
the dark thing that had spoken in her mind in Askaborg’s great hall?
It was silent now, but she shuddered to think what it might do should it wake.
As they at last flew over a rugged beach, Saga’s breaths grew more even.
She was back in íseldur.
Below them, the Western Woods sprouted upward, and Saga gasped at the state of the forest—the trees gray, spindly things, starving and parched. And in the very farthest distance, a column of smoke churned into the skies.
“There!” she shouted to Kass. After retching several times into the ocean, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet. Kassandr Rurik’s stomach, it seemed, was not so ironclad as the grip he held around her waist.
On they flew until Saga’s hands were numb with cold and her stomach seethed like a swarm of angry bees.
It was the farthest she’d ever flown on Havoc, yet with Kass behind her and her sister before her, she was bolstered with strength.
Over and over, Saga reminded herself that fear was a thing to be felt.
Still, her heart raced and her breaths were shallow.
Time ceased to have meaning—perhaps they flew for one hour, perhaps it was six.
But gradually the column of smoke grew nearer.
The sun had set in the west behind them, and the moons began their Rise in the east, directly before them.
And as Saga gazed at the smaller of the sister moons, she realized Marra was full. Hope sparked in her chest.
Saga had always been drawn to Marra above all the other old gods. Goddess of healing and knowledge, Saga heard in her mother’s voice. Marra is often called Peacebringer. A full Marra felt like a good omen—not that Saga believed in such things.
Havoc whinnied as a harsh sound climbed above the howling wind.
“Battle,” growled Kass, his grip on her waist tightening. “I do not like this—”
“You don’t need to like it,” Saga snapped. “Eisa is down there and I have to find—”
Her words broke off as she felt something she hadn’t in many long weeks—thoughts seeping freely into her mind. It was a strange sensation, foreign yet familiar all at once, but as the thoughts grew in strength and intensity, she braced herself against their onslaught.
…Die, you sack of rotten meat…
…I wish I’d had longer…
…Must get to her. Must reach her…
Saga shoved her barriers into place as the battle came into view.
She blinked in shock. Monstrous versions of forest creatures fought hundreds of warriors.
Saga spied a green-skinned woman with antlers battling a pack of vampire deer; grimwolves lunging at a horde of undead mountain cats.
She gasped as the great drum of a heartbeat met her ears, carrying with it the scent of mold and blood.
It made no sense, but the part of her linked to her sister told Saga that Eisa was down there, and she was in danger.
Saga’s heart raced even faster, her stomach turning over. Danger all around. If she landed, there would be no exits…
But Eisa needed her.
“What is that?” muttered Kassandr, and she followed his pointing finger.
There stood the largest of all the trees in the grove, its bark moving like liquid.
She watched in horror as a lump emerged on the gray-black bark, growing and swelling until it burst and white mist seeped into the air.
And there, a few paces from the tree, stood a warrior with flames pouring from his palms. This Ashbringer warrior alone, it seemed, held the strange cloud at bay.
The man’s face was lined with exertion, and it looked as though he might not hold on much longer.
“Something unnatural is afoot,” said Kass. “Winterwing, I do not like this—”
But Saga was not listening—her gaze jumped from the Ashbringer to a large, dark warrior, bellowing as he charged across the grove.
There was something familiar about this warrior, something Saga could not place.
But then she saw her, and nothing else mattered.
Dark-brown hair, pale skin, black armor worn beneath a wolfskin cloak.
Saga’s sister was on her knees, eyes squeezed shut as she clutched her temples.
A monstrous bear loomed several paces away.
“Eisa,” she whispered.
Saga reached out to her sister, not with her Sense, but through the mysterious sisterly bond they’d used to communicate. She found her, but gasped. Eisa’s thread was so weak…
Havoc landed with jarring force, hooves pounding the snow hard enough to send monsters scattering and Saga half climbing, half tumbling from the saddle.
“Get behind me,” growled Kassandr, the press of his magic filling the air. Fabric ripped, and she knew he’d shifted into his beast form behind her. Havoc shrieked, hooves lashing out at a lunging grimwolf.
“To the sky, Havoc!” Saga called. With a begrudging snort, the stallion obeyed.
Saga pulled a dagger from her boot as Kassandr unleashed himself upon the grimwolf. Ignoring the carnage unfolding around her, Saga turned back to her sister. The bear was still several paces away, but Eisa had fully collapsed in the snow, her body convulsing and her thread a bare wisp.
“Eisa!” pleaded Saga, all thoughts of self-preservation fleeing her. Trusting Kass to guard her from the bear, she rushed to her sister. Saga dropped to her knees, then pulled Eisa’s head into her in her lap. “I’m here, Eisa—”
Saga, hissed a voice inside her skull.
“No,” mumbled Saga, reeling. It was the voice she’d heard at her engagement feast—the one that had pulled her darkest cravings forth. “You won’t sway me this time.”
A wave of glee nearly knocked her to the ground. Oh, but I will, purred the voice. I will take your sister’s life and keep you as my thrall…
For years, Saga had been weaving her mental barriers to control her Sense, and it came to her now as easily as breathing. She reinforced her walls with stone and steel, the creature’s displeasure a low grumble deep in her chest.
Saga caressed her sister’s cheek. “You promised, Eisa,” she whispered, reaching once more for that strange, sisterly intuition. “You promised we would meet one day. Come back, Eisa. Help me keep that promise.”
The thinnest, fraying thread of Eisa seemed to remain, and Saga entwined her own self around it, braiding them together to reinforce it.
Images jolted through Saga—a dark, knife-wielding figure above her; a man stabbed dead on a bench; blood and flesh beneath her fingernails.
Dark cravings slithered through Saga’s veins.
I am winning, dear Eisa, they purred. I will tear you apart, one thought at a time.
Understanding dawned on Saga. The voice she’d heard in her skull—the one who’d promised they’d have fun together—had lived inside her sister as well. And now it had a hold on Eisa. Would try to take her from Saga, just when she’d found her.
“You won’t have her!” Saga screamed, holding her sister to her as she shoved all her will into Eisa’s mind.
Saga could have sworn she saw Eisa’s eyelids flutter, and though it might have been a trick of her mind, she let it fuel her hope all the same.
She was dimly aware of Kassandr in beast form nearby, ripping the heads from monstrous deer and mountain cats as they lunged her way.
But she tried to ignore him—tried to focus on the sister before her.
With a deep breath, Saga gathered her energy and pulled from the pool of power shimmering behind her breastbone.
“Get out!” she shouted. And with the full force of her will, she shoved again.
This time, she knew she saw Eisa’s eyelids flutter. Saga felt the thread of her sister become firmer, stronger, resisting the force that tried to fray through it.
Stop! shouted the voice—in her skull, in the woods all around her.