Chapter 44
Revna
The hellebores in the courtyard were beginning to bloom. I tugged absentmindedly on the clasp of my cloak as I double-checked the saddle straps on the gray mare. She huffed impatiently, and I clicked my tongue. “We’ll be off soon enough.”
“You’re sure we can’t entice you to stay?”
I turned at the sound of Freja’s voice. Bhorglid’s new head councilwoman was resplendent in her gown—a flowing style with a functional yet fashionable corset reminiscent of Nilurae clothing.
Several other leaders from the provinces to the south, west, and east had arrived the night before, ready to discuss the formation of a collaborative government in Bhorglid.
Freja was heading the entire affair, and while she anticipated difficulty, she’d been thrilled that every province sent both Lurae and Nilurae as council candidates.
“Did you sprint all the way here?” I asked. Things were still taut with tension between Freja and me, but I pretended not to notice. “We were hoping to slip away while you were burdened with pleasantries.”
She didn’t meet my eyes, and the tension pulled tighter for a moment. I inhaled and held it close. A reminder of why leaving was the best course of action. Freja had said we were welcome to stay, but it didn’t change the truth: she didn’t want us to stay.
It was for the best. After all, I didn’t want to stay either.
“Astrid brought me,” Freja explained. She shook her head with a humorless laugh. “I’m still sad to see you go. My heart hasn’t yet caught up to my mind, I guess. I thought maybe I’d have something profound to say. Instead, I’m just as lost for words as I have been since the festival.”
I didn’t say aloud what I knew to be true.
That everything we could say had already been said.
I’d offered endless desperate apologies in the two weeks since the final battle against Callum and Arraya, but each was underlined with the truth Freja couldn’t forgive: I couldn’t undo the choices I’d made.
Even knowing I shouldn’t have kept Freja in the dark wasn’t enough.
If I were to go back in time, I would do it all the same way again.
Neither of us was ready to let it all go.
“We both need time,” I said, wishing S?ren would hurry up with the saddlebags and save me from this confrontation. “You’re a councilwoman now. I have other responsibilities. The dust needs to settle. There is work to be done.”
She clasped her hands behind her back. “Where will you go?”
“Do you care?” I was genuinely curious.
Her jaw tightened. “As one of the leaders of Bhorglid, I believe I should be informed of the whereabouts of the Fjordlands’ gods, yes.”
I wanted to laugh, but there was nothing funny about the situation at all.
Not when every turn of events had manifested this way because of how much I loved Freja.
I’d saved her from a lifetime rotting in a cell maybe.
Had given her another chance at life. And Bhorglid now had its first true Nilurae leadership.
It seemed the cost was our friendship. I still wasn’t sure if it was a price I regretted paying or not.
“I’m sure Volkan told you we’re headed to Faste soon,” I said.
The prince and my brother had returned to Volkan’s home country a few days prior.
Jac was ready for a fresh start somewhere new, and Volkan had offered him a position there.
I knew we would make our way back to Kryllian eventually as well—Sonja and her partner had decided to head back to the seaside town where she and S?ren had been born.
In the distance, I saw the castle doors open and S?ren step out, arms laden with our supplies. I continued, “We have matters to attend to in the wastes first. We’ll likely spend a couple of weeks there. We’ll check for messages often enough.”
When S?ren had explained to Astrid that we were leaving, he’d told her we would build a message box by the frozen lake and the forge—and we’d return to check it regularly.
I’d complained about going to the northern wastes so frequently, but the corner of his mouth had lifted knowingly.
S?ren was perfectly aware that I wanted to make sure we were available for the people we loved.
Just in case.
Even if some of those people didn’t want us anymore.
S?ren reached us, standing a little too close to me as he glanced over his shoulder at Freja before saying, loudly enough for her to hear, “We really ought to be going, love.”
I took some of the bags from his hands. “I’m ready.”
Freja took the cue with grace, stepping back and dipping her head. “See you later.”
I pulled myself up into the saddle and stared back at the ruins of the castle I’d grown up in. Its mountain perch provided a perfect view of the city. The arena in the distance still stood proud. I thought of the statue of Aloisa in the square, surrounded by temple rubble.
My chest tightened, but not much. After all, I knew it was the truth when I replied, “We’ll see you again soon.”
S?ren and I tugged on the reins and started off.
“It would be far easier to do this if the entire northern wastes didn’t look exactly the same,” S?ren griped.
I pressed a palm to my mouth to muffle my laughter. He was absolutely irate, but I couldn’t resist reminding him, “This was your idea, you know.”
He groaned. “I’m fully aware. And regretting it more than ever now.”
In the two weeks we’d spent resting and recovering in Bhorglid—helping convince the Kryllian army that their queen was dead and they needed to return home being our greatest endeavor during that time—we’d realized one day there had been one spirit in the throng that hadn’t been unwoven and reworked into the archway.
“I don’t know why she wouldn’t have been tethered to me after I spoke to the Tapestry,” S?ren had mused, “but maybe we should go look for her, just in case.”
We’d spent five long days searching the wastes, using the forge as our home base and sweeping the area in one direction each day.
S?ren had described in great detail the grove he’d seen in his visions.
I kept my eyes peeled for the warped stump of a tree he’d described to me, but so far we’d had no luck.
Truthfully, I didn’t mind. It gave us both a chance to really talk about everything that had happened.
S?ren explained his time with the Tapestry after he died; I told him about Freja’s efforts to lead the rebels.
I didn’t mind spending our nights together either. We’d made the cave as comfortable as we could and had happily set out to catch up on all the time we spent apart.
Hour after hour passed. The sky dimmed. “We should go back,” I said with a sigh. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Wait.” S?ren’s voice was hushed. “Look.”
I followed his gaze into the shadow of the pines. And if I squinted just hard enough…
There it was. The glimmer of red between the trunks. Aloisa was killed by the Soulcleaver, too, I realized. It seemed the blade didn’t discriminate between victims when marking their souls a different color.
“It might not be her,” he said as we walked toward it. “There could be hundreds of spirits lost out here.”
“True,” I said, grasping his hand in mine. The first notes of a familiar lullaby began to sound, and I smiled. Because they sounded different.
They weren’t only in my head this time.
We approached slowly and carefully but didn’t bother to try sneaking up on the small clearing. A woman’s voice, crystal clear and lilting, sang the words my mother had hummed to me over and over when I was a child. A story of loss and love, of power and pride. A melody of peace.
When the song came to an end, Aloisa turned to face us. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.
I stepped forward, tugging on S?ren’s hand for him to follow me. His eyes were wide, and he stumbled a bit but managed to meet her eyes when she rose. After a moment of silence, I took it upon myself to say, “Pleasure to meet you.”
She appraised me. “The Bloodsinger Queen herself.”
I laughed, and it was genuine. Something inside me had eased since the battle for Bhorglid. “Just the Bloodsinger now. Not queen any longer.”
She raised a brow. I didn’t know whether she could still speak with the Tapestry as a spirit or not, but if she could, then it hadn’t kept her updated on our goings-on. “Well, it’s an honor nonetheless.”
I nodded and S?ren finally mustered words. “Thank you,” he said, “for saving me all those years ago. And Sonja. I owe so much to you.”
Aloisa shook her head. “Do not forget you owe much to yourself, Hellbringer. I saved you once, but you continued to survive despite being in captivity for so long. I am proud of you.”
S?ren’s hand clutched mine so tightly I wondered if I would lose feeling in my fingers.
Aloisa continued, “I have lingered too long here. Will you both send me on? I am ready.”
“Of course,” I murmured.
S?ren and I called on our Lurae and summoned the archway.
For a long moment, she surveyed the crown, the skull, and the sword.
Her eyes flickered from the Tapestry to the Soulcleaver at S?ren’s hip.
I allowed him to carry it. I had repaired my own blade our first day in the forge, unwilling to part with it.
Gently, S?ren cut Aloisa’s soul thread from the snow and I wove the unspooled red into the fabric of the Tapestry.
When it was done, I let out a breath. Finally, it felt like the last chapter of our story—the one full of strife and suffering, Trials and battles—was closed. And now we could begin anew.
Write a story all our own.
I thought of Frode. Of all the laughter we’d shared, of all the tears we’d seen each other cry.
I thought of Valen and Mira and Halvar. And of our living friends, too.
Volkan and Jac, Sonja, Freja and Astrid.
“Do you think the countries might agree to have us speak to their scholars?” I said, leaning my head back against S?ren’s chest. “We’re going to write down all the history we learned, everything we experienced. But why should it stop there?”
He picked up where I trailed off. “Record what comes next, too. Prevent those who come after us from suffering because of the lack of written knowledge.”
I nodded.
“There will always be corruption,” S?ren mused. “But you’re right. When we go to Faste, let’s speak to Volkan about it. He can convince Freja to implement changes in Bhorglid, too.”
“I don’t know if Freja will do anything we tell her to.”
He chuckled. “Well, we have an eternity to convince her, Princess.”
He was right, and the thought made the tension drain from my shoulders.
We had all the time we needed to bring about change.
Even as queen, I hadn’t been able to transform things for the better.
I’d thought that when my secrets came to light I had lost my chance to do good.
That S?ren and I would live a quiet life in each other’s company, traveling and sending souls on until immortality began to wear on us.
But maybe…
“We have real power now,” I said slowly. “Real influence. We can make a difference.” S?ren’s hand reached up to brush away the furrow between my brows, and I spared half a thought for how well he knew me—to know my exact expression without even looking at me.
“No one wants to upset the gods,” he said. I heard the smirk and reached up to smack him lightly.
“That kind of thinking is what led to Callum,” I chastised. But there was no bite in my words. “We can’t let that happen to us.”
“We won’t.” He tugged on my hand, pulling me back toward where we had tied our horses. “Maybe we have power now. But it wouldn’t mean anything to me without you here to share it with me.”
I cast one last glance over my shoulder. I knew with certainty that we wouldn’t come to this grove again—it was a good distance from the forge, and Aloisa’s soul belonged to the Tapestry now. Her body would be claimed by the wastes.
Setting sunlight peered through the pines, scattering over S?ren’s face. He was just as beautiful as the first time I’d seen him without the mask. It stopped me in my tracks, breathless all over again.
I had him forever.
When he realized I wasn’t following him anymore, he turned back. The Hellbringer was as serious as I’d ever seen him. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” I said. I felt the truth of it in my bones. “Everything is perfect.”