Chapter five
Revna
This is so much better than paperwork. Kindra screeched her approval as we sailed over the white stretch of the Odemark. I miss our reirhold, though.
I felt her pang of longing as she banked around a rocky hill toward the Scar.
I miss them too, I confessed, feeling Kindra’s mind curl protectively around mine. But we’re fine, you and I.
A drage without a reirhold is only partially whole.
We have a reirhold, I argued, stifling the resentment that bubbled up inside me in response. They were just all in the capital doing the important work while we stayed put and made sure all the paperwork was handled. They’ll be back soon.
You could have requested to be made reirleder of your own reirhold, Kindra pointed out as we swooped down toward the dark fissure in the skin of the earth. Arik would have agreed, as would Baldur. Asger is not stronger than I.
Viggo and Asger’s appointment have nothing to do with strength. I had said as much several times, but she still clung to the idea out of stubbornness. She felt hurt that Arik had asked Viggo to lead one of the new reirholds before us.
I would have said no, of course. Not only did I have no desire to lead my own reirhold, but I knew Arik trusted me to lead in his stead. He was my friend, and it was an honor. And a far more important task.
It is also far more lonely, Kindra added irritably. The old reirhold would have flown with us today, had you thought to ask.
I know they would, you meddlesome creature, I snapped. Stop fussing over me.
You are lonely. It is only natural to be when our mate is still so far from us.
I rolled my eyes. We don’t need a mate. We need our godsdamned reirhold to get back here where they belong.
Kindra twitched a brow ridge as she landed on the ice with a crack. Her elegant golden wings blew the loose snow that had fallen that morning out in great white gusts. Speak for yourself. I have needs.
I grimaced at the insinuation. Needs can be fulfilled by anyone.
Kindra snorted so vehemently, the snow melted beneath us. Not just anyone. It must be the right someone.
I wouldn’t know, since you’ve rejected anyone who offered, I pointed out. Let’s focus on the Scar, shall we?
Arik had asked me to monitor the part of the Rift that Eisa and Idunn had somehow sealed—a jagged black line that snaked out from the Rift’s deep blue toward the northern coast of the Odemark.
The break in the ice seemed to be the same as it had been the night Baldur had killed Ragnar, but I dutifully made a mental note of its size and shape to add to the records Arik had been keeping before he left.
Does it look longer to you? I asked Kindra as she stomped the length of the Scar toward the Rift. I feel like we are farther from the edge than the last time we were here.
Kindra snorted. I am attempting to figure that out. Now hush while I count.
I waited quietly inside Kindra’s head, counting along with her while she prowled the length of the Scar, her claws dug deep grooves into the ice on either side of the jagged gash.
My gut was already sinking as she finished.
Forty-two dragon lengths. Her voice was subdued. It was forty last week.
I’m aware. I cursed internally, wondering what it meant that the Scar was growing.
Should I tell Idunn or Baldur?
We should, but I knew there was nothing Eisa or Arik could do about the Scar, and telling them would just make them worry. Not yet.
Are you sure we shouldn’t—
A deep rumbling interrupted Kindra’s argument as the ground beneath her claws shuddered violently.
Call the reirholds! My shout of warning was quickly made obsolete as the earth beneath us cracked open and darkness spilled into the world.
Kindra released a desperate screech, leaping into the sky as she summoned the reirleders to us.
Garmr snarled forth from the crack in the world, their claws and maws dripping black ichor.
The otherworldly shadows of the huleskygge followed close behind, each flitting across the ice to find the nearest shadow that might conceal them.
Kindra laid down a blast of golden flame to hold back the surge as the telltale sound of wings rent the air behind us.
A bronze was the first to arrive, bellowing its weaker flame to bolster Kindra’s as she aimed for the mass of huleskygge attempting to escape from the crack.
One of the garmr leaped and caught the edge of the bronze’s wing before falling back to the earth, its claws leaving splintering black gashes behind in the ice.
The bronze dragon howled as another gold came to its rescue, and then the reirleders were there. White and gold flames erupted from the dragons and incinerated the odemarksdyr before they gained purchase on our side of the Rift.
Push them back! Kindra roared the command as we swooped low over the Scar, our fire so hot it left a searing red gash atop the black as we burned the monsters back into the darkness from whence they had come.
Another white drew up beside us and shot a jet of flame at a garmr as it leaped for us. Kindra dodged the claws gracefully, raking her own through the matted black fur of the monster as she clamped her jaws around its throat.
Garmr are vile. She spat the words out along with a mouthful of black blood. More dragons swooped around us, all of us working as one to beat back the odemarksdyr.
My eyes caught the blackened edge of the Scar, and I could swear I saw the ice shift subtly back into place as if some great beast below were deciding to bide its time.
Something about the Rift was changing, and not for the better.
A gold dragon, followed by a smaller bronze, bellowed something to Kindra.
She snorted irritably. Asger’s human wishes to know if you are alright.
Tell Viggo we’re fine, I replied, still studying the Scar distractedly through one of Kindra’s eyes. Did you see it move?
Yes. She screeched, and the surrounding dragons began to thin as they flapped back toward Ironholm. Do you wish me to tell them?
No. It could have been a trick of the light. In the panic of the attack, my vision had been obscured by Kindra’s flame, and it was entirely possible that we were both mistaken about the Scar.
But if we weren’t…
No, I repeated. We don’t want to start a panic. Not with Arik away at least. I wasn’t sure I could handle the entire mountain demanding answers I didn’t have.
All of the dragons that had come to our aid had returned to the sky, and I had the sinking feeling there would be a line of worried drage darkening the dragehersker’s door before the day was through. We have enough trouble as it is.
“I seem to recall that there are rules about drage going out into the Odemark alone.” Ingmar’s voice was part teasing, part chastising as I entered Arik’s office.
It had been Einar’s, but was now bare of anything that belonged to him. Only the old wooden desk, a few chairs, and the shelves of records remained.
“Why, exactly, are you exempt from these rules, Rev?” Ingmar sat in Einar’s old chair, their booted feet on the desk and their arms folded over their chest.
They weren’t alone. Serrilda, Viggo, and Geir had taken up positions around the room, and all of them looked pissed.
I sighed. It had taken a solid half hour to reassure the other reirleders that there was no imminent danger, and I supposed it was too much to hope that I could avoid my former reirhold forever. “What exactly are you all doing here?”
“I second the question.” Viggo had settled himself on the edge of the desk.
His blond braid was stained with something black and sticky that I suspected to be garmr blood.
His mate, Geir, stood next to him, eyeing Ingmar’s dirty boots with distaste.
“Just because I have my own reirhold now doesn’t mean we won’t drop everything to help you. ”
“Revna likes to play the martyr.” Serrilda’s dark braids, which fell softly over her shoulders, gave the incorrect impression that she was a warm person.
As usual, her eyes were hard as granite when they met mine across the room.
Of all of our reirhold, Serrilda knew me best next to Arik, and she also rarely let me get away with any bullshit. “I see no other explanation.”
I threw up my hands as I sank onto an overturned crate that had once held documents. They were now spread haphazardly over the floor in my vain attempt to create some semblance of order in the chaos that was now my life. “Can I at least sit down as you all berate me?”
Kindra rumbled an amused laugh across our mental bridge.
“We’re worried about you, Rev.“ Ingmar’s gaze was serious as they sat up properly and leaned toward me, their elbows on their knees. “You’ll run yourself ragged trying to do everything alone.”
“Like always,” Serrilda added.
“I can’t believe that Arik intended you to manage all of Ironholm by yourself,” Geir agreed, running his hand over his bearded chin as he did whenever he was mulling over a problem. “And there’s no reason we can’t join you for patrols if you insist on going out there.”
“Or paperwork.” Viggo eyed the disaster on the floor with thinly veiled contempt. “Even if it is the worst.”
I laughed, trying to flatten the emotion that had risen behind my eyes at the kind words and tender concern of my friends. My family. “Fine, you win. I need help.”
“We’re yours to command,” Viggo announced, tactfully ignoring the emotion in my voice. “Just tell us what you need.”
I cleared my throat for good measure and was relieved when it sounded completely normal. “I need a reirhold to patrol the Scar. Discreetly.”
Viggo raised a blond brow. “The Scar?”
I nodded. “Arik wants it measured daily, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to get out and do it. Asger is only slightly larger than Kindra, so it makes sense for you to do it.”
Serrilda tilted her head and studied me, her sharp eyes clearly missing nothing in their usual perceptive way. “What are you looking for?”
I hesitated, biting my lip as I debated what to tell them.
The truth, Kindra insisted. They are our reirhold. We can trust them.
Geir anticipated me. “The Scar is growing, somehow?”
I nodded, strangely relieved to no longer be burdened by the secret which Arik had entrusted to me. “When Idunn and Eisa closed it, it was about thirty-five dragon-lengths, as measured by Kindra. This morning it measured forty-two.”
Ingmar whistled. “Not insignificant. Any idea why?”
I shook my head. “Arik and Eisa are hoping to find answers in the Book, but it wouldn’t hurt to go through our archives and see if they mention anything.”
“I can do that.” Ingmar offered, rising from the chair with an ominous creak. “What exactly am I looking for?”
“Mentions of darkness? Of the Rift turning black?” I shook my head, giving them an apologetic grimace. “It’s not a lot to go on, but I’m not sure where else to start.”
“And I’ll help you with this mess,” Serrilda declared with unwavering finality. “Hearthmother knows you are not tidy enough to manage an office alone.”
Her eyes met mine, and I knew we were both remembering the deplorable state of our shared bunk before we’d become drage. Had our dragons not been disinclined to continue our fleeting romance, my inability to make the bed would have ended our relationship eventually.
She smiled faintly, and I returned the expression. “Thank you. Truly.”
“And you should eat,” Ingmar added, clasping my shoulder. “And sleep. You look exhausted.”
“Thank you, mother.”
“Always.” They smiled unironically and gave me a final pat on the back. “I’ll go to the archives now. I’m not scheduled for patrol until tomorrow evening, so I may as well get started.”
“And I’ll go talk to my reirhold.” I could hear the pride in Viggo’s voice, even though he tried to hide it. “They won’t tell anyone what we’re doing, I swear it.”
I smiled. “I’m happy for you, Viggo. You too, Geir. Arik made the right choice in promoting you.”
“Don’t give him more of an ego than he already has,” Geir groaned, shoving his mate out of the office before him. “The power has gone to his head.”
“We’ll report tomorrow,” Viggo shouted back with a wave and a grin. “Geir will take so many notes!”
I heard Geir grumble something that sounded like an argument, followed by what could only be a playful smack on someone’s rear end.
I rolled my eyes as I turned back to Serrilda. She had already begun sorting the haphazard scrolls and loose papers into orderly piles.
“One of these days, Rev, you’re going to have to let someone in willingly.” She looked up and met my eyes, and while I knew that neither of us still harbored feelings for the other, she still looked sad for some reason. “You can’t always wait for help to arrive with a battering ram.”
“Says the oh so warm and fuzzy woman who once complained that she would be the only one to fold our clothes since only she could do it correctly.” I leaned against the big wooden desk, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted.
Serrilda rolled her eyes, but a smile still played about her lips. “You know what I mean. I know Kindra is determined to wait for her mate, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let anyone in.”
“I let people in.”
Kindra snorted derisively in my mind.
“You are excellent at taking care of everyone and everything,” Serrilda argued, rising to her feet with a stack of scrolls that somehow sat in a perfect pyramid in her arms. “And terrible about taking care of you.”
She placed the scrolls on the wooden desk and turned back to the rest of her piles as I frowned over her words. I wasn’t that stubborn, was I?
You are. Kindra flicked her tail playfully in my mind, and I batted it away.
“Go on,” she said, nudging my side with her elbow. She was a good six inches shorter than me, but it had never made her seem any less fierce. “I have this. Go report to Arik. Then eat something. And maybe take a nap.”
“Don’t you have patrols—“
The look she gave me could have cracked stone, and I raised my hands in defeat as I left the godsforsaken office.