Chapter 19
S?ren
The story spilled from her in fits and starts. How Halvar declared her a traitor, believing her to have hidden her Lurae. The argument, a culmination of every stress Revna carried that day and the abandonment of her father figure. The burst of power taking on a life of its own.
The aftermath.
“Volkan found me,” she said. I knew from observing her she was in a place far from me.
Her eyes were unfocused, her voice quiet.
She curled in on herself a bit more with every word.
“Helped to…dispose of the body. Clean the tavern. Said he’d known you long enough to understand what was happening to me. ”
A rush of affection for Volkan warmed me. He remained as steady as ever, the Fastian prince. “Volkan is one of only four people who knows what I did to my parents,” I told her. “He’s been nothing but the most trustworthy confidant through the years.”
She nodded, but her stare remained far away. “I never wanted this,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. And now I’m stuck in the most complicated lie.”
Maybe, I wanted to tell her, but did you ever consider how brilliant you are? How much stronger than I’ve ever been? Has anyone told you yet that you’ll make it through this, even if it’s bruised and bloody?
“When Freja finds out—and she will, Jac is getting tired of the ruse—she’ll hate me.
” Revna said it with such certainty. It seemed to bring her back to herself a bit.
“Arne already hates me, and he’ll make sure Freja never speaks to me again.
All of this started because I wanted to save her, and now I’m the one who will ruin her life. ”
For a moment, I debated killing Arne—the bastard—when we returned to the city.
It would be worth it, even if it meant I blew my cover.
But it would cause too many problems for Revna, so I stowed away the idea, vowing to return to it when the political schemes had calmed and everything was more settled.
Revna hadn’t stopped talking while I thought. “Volkan is getting tired of it, too. He keeps telling me I’m in over my head. Says I need to tell her now. But no one understands how crucial Halvar is to the Nilurae’s support and—” She shook her head. “I’m just rambling now.”
Keep rambling, I wanted to beg her. Talk at me until we’re old and gray, until the ice covers our bones and we’re so sick of each other that you can’t help but travel on to the next life. But I kept my mouth shut, unwilling to yield my position as her confidant.
“When they see me…really see me and discover who I am…they’ll leave.
” Every word was a whisper. “I’ll sit in the castle, Queen of Bhorglid.
And I will be entirely alone. Being ruler wears on me already.
I thought this was what I wanted, what I needed.
Now I’m not sure if I fought for the right thing. ”
I stood and approached her, extending my hand to help her up.
For a long moment, she merely looked at me.
“I know what it’s like,” I told her carefully, “to have your responsibility weighing on you. To see the inevitable coming like a winter storm approaching in the distance. But I can also tell you it is worthwhile to hope.”
Her frigid fingers were dwarfed by my hand as she accepted my offer to pull her up. “Sorry,” she said, tugging on the end of her braid. “I just…I can’t stop thinking about what I’ve done. What it says about me.”
“All it says is that you made a mistake. And that someone who should have cared for you decided to be an asshole about something you couldn’t control, instead of offering you support and comfort.”
“It’s not his fault,” Revna said, her gaze trained on her boots. “And maybe it was a mistake—but not the kind that can be forgiven. People don’t come back from the dead, S?ren. Lurae like ours have consequences.”
“And the consequence of your actions is being alone? Forever?” I pressed.
She nodded. I wasn’t sure whether I imagined the glint of sun on a fallen, frozen tear in the snow.
“Maybe your friends deserve more credit than you give them, too.” I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck nervously and cleared my throat. “Halvar isn’t the only ghost I’ve seen as of late. When I went and retrieved his body, I spoke to Frode.”
I held my breath. I had no idea how Revna would feel about me speaking to her brother. She might be thrilled, but she might also be angry. I braced myself for whatever reaction she landed on.
Her brow furrowed. “And…what did he say?”
“That he was proud of you for winning the Trials. He was glad you were safe and hoped you were happy.”
There were several long heartbeats of silence.
Revna nodded, taking it in, but didn’t say anything more.
I glanced up at the sky. Thick clouds loomed in the north.
“There’s a storm on its way here. We’d better leave now, else we risk being stuck in it.
I’ll go pack up our things—join me whenever you’re ready. ”
My footfalls were heavy as I left her to think over our conversation.
I hoped she wasn’t watching when my hands curled into fists.
I will never leave you, I swore silently.
If everyone else abandons you, I will be by your side.
There is nowhere you can travel where I will not follow.
Even if it means I crawl to you on my hands and knees through the depths of hell.
I spared no glance backward as I entered the forge. If I did, it would have taken more restraint than I possessed to keep myself from pulling her into a tight embrace, making the promise aloud, and crushing her mouth to mine.
We managed to make it more than halfway home by the time we stopped to make camp.
Originally, I’d considered riding through the night.
We kept just ahead of the storm, the heavy precipitation easy to see falling in the distance.
But as darkness fell, the mare showed signs of exhaustion.
As did Revna—she kept dozing off, utterly spent from yesterday’s ordeal and the effort of training her magic so extensively.
Her head resting back on my chest was a sensation I treasured. If she were awake, I knew she’d be furious about the show of weakness.
She won’t forgive you, I reminded myself. She’s known the truth for ages now, and it hasn’t changed a thing.
I knew things between us would never be the same.
Had accepted it long ago, when I made the decision to end Frode’s life.
It made me all the more eager to hold on to the small moments—her acceptance of my hand this morning after she shared what happened with Halvar; clutching her half-frozen, shivering, sopping form to my chest and sprinting for the forge, desperately hoping to warm her up in time; and now, when she trusted me not to let her fall despite her exhaustion.
But the horse needed a break. Reluctantly, I tugged on the reins and shook Revna’s shoulder. “Wake up, Princess. We’re taking a short rest.”
She stirred, blearily. “We are? What about the storm?” She rubbed her hands over her eyes.
“It’s a couple of hours behind us. Don’t worry, we won’t stay long.”
Once the tent was set up, Revna fell almost immediately back into slumber.
I once again resisted the urge to wrap her in my arms. The few nights we’d shared a bed during our time in the prison had been the best nights of sleep I’d ever had.
Seeing the soft, golden thread of her soul just out of reach now, knowing she didn’t want me any nearer, was torturous.
For years, I’d dreamt only of Sonja. It was part of why my insomnia was so terrible. Even sleep was torture. Only after meeting Revna had my dreams changed—her fiery personality kept me company when I managed to truly slumber.
Now that was torture, too.
But tonight, I didn’t dream of my sister or of my princess. Instead, I dreamt of the wandering woman who taught me to forge.
I watched from a distance as the red-haired traveler stepped through the woods, into a small grove of trees.
A warped, petrified tree stump stood among the rest, and she ran a gentle hand over it.
The woman looked exactly how I remembered her—even with the scar that ran across her face.
She unsheathed a golden sword from her hip, a weapon more beautiful than any I’d seen before.
It felt vaguely familiar, but the part of my mind fully slumbering couldn’t put a finger on why.
Then, she laid it down in the snow and called, “I know you’re here. There’s no point in hiding any longer.”
Footsteps announced the arrival of a newcomer. In my dream state, I didn’t care that it was the Queen of Kryllian—my subconscious creating an unfamiliar scene with bits and pieces of different parts of my life.
The queen’s blond hair tangled in the wind like the soul threads stretching between the women. “That’s it?” she said with disdain. “You aren’t even going to fight for it? After they revered you for nearly four hundred years—goddess of the soul?”
The woman shook her head. “I’ve spent so long fighting. So long chasing you. I cannot hold that responsibility any longer.”
The queen stepped forward slowly, picking up the blade and examining it. That’s where I know it from, I realized. The queen had that sword with her the day I buried Frode’s body. She hasn’t relinquished her hold on it since.
Hunger shone in Anja’s eyes. She laughed, and a flock of birds scattered into the air. “Oh, Aloisa. I’ve been looking forward to this.”
She plunged the blade through the woman’s abdomen.