17. Bryn
Bryn
The ship skirted around the far side of the island, everyone on board making sure to stay as quiet as possible. The silence lent an eeriness to the scene that felt like stalking through a graveyard on a cold winter’s night.
Chunks of ice floated by. To combat them, two sailors were stationed at the prow and used their water powers to push them away from the vessel. The thick shards drifted past like omens, and an unsettling feeling crept up my bones.
“You all right there, Bryn?”
I peered up at Henrik. There was a confidence there that I needed to soak in and replicate if we were going to pull this off. With a nod, I replied, “I’m fine. Keep close to the bluffs and look out for the inlet.”
The easiest entrance I’d found on my first excursion here was a beach on the left flank. It was the only spot on the island that didn’t require pickaxes and climbing to enter.
Henrik gently steered the ship closer, and soon enough, what I was searching for emerged from the fog.
Nestled between two sharp bluffs, a black sand beach appeared. Lumps of ice were strewn across it as if Hrim had thrown out a bunch of gemstones and left them to brave the elements.
“There.” I pointed to the beach. “That’s our entrance.”
“Sverre. Prepare to swim.”
“Aye, Captain,” the first mate replied from the main deck, careful to keep his voice lower than their usual shouts.
“Are you sure you want to take all these sailors with us?” My stare swept across the gathering crew below, all of whom were preparing their weapons or buttoning up their coats.
“We go as a team. We do this together.”
I wouldn’t argue with him. It was my actions that had caused his sailors to die, and it was his ship that had brought us here. Not to mention, we had, admittedly, worked well together during our little map heist.
With a deep breath, I gave in to the thoughts and feelings around working with others. It hadn’t hurt me this time, and I had Henrik with me. Which, somehow, lent an air of comfort to the whole ordeal.
It really was time for me to dive into something new.
The sailors who’d volunteered to join our expedition force gathered along the railing.
Slowly but surely, each one set their hand on their left shoulder.
The thinnest veils of magic wrapped around them—near invisible to the naked eye, but if you were trained on what to search for or a fellow Fjord Fae, the magic bubble layer, a wisp of energy, was easy to spot.
“We go as one.” Henrik’s voice carried through the cold air like snowflakes on a breeze. “Everyone ready?”
Nods and faint affirmatives replied.
My heart rate picked up and my stomach fluttered like a panicked fish.
Then my eyes landed on the healer, Laknar.
The elderly fae was bundled up in thick layers of white wool that matched his hair and beard.
Beside him were two burly sailors with swords strapped to their backs—no doubt protectors should something go wrong and he was needed.
Fear spiked through me at the thought. More so than it had ever done on any previous job. But, then again, this wasn’t a usual operation. I was no longer alone. I had people to watch out for in addition to myself.
Henrik caught my worried gaze and gave me a single, gentle nod. Without looking at his crew, he said, “Dive.”
Like the puffins that nested along the southern coastline, sailors dove gracefully into the glassy sea. One, two, three… twelve. Twelve people total were joining us.
Henrik held out his hand, and I stepped up beside him and took hold. With my free hand, I placed my palm against my shoulder and engaged a thick air pocket that would allow me to not only breathe underwater but would keep me dry. If only it could keep me warm too.
“Ready, little thief?” Henrik squeezed my hand, seeming full of life and magic once more.
“Don’t die, Captain.”
“And leave you to abscond with my ship and gold? Never.”
I laughed and jumped, dragging him with me and crashing through the surface. The icy North Atlantic swallowed us whole, ensconcing us in dark waters devoid of life. The only beings were us Fjord Fae who swam toward the inky beach while carefully dodging lumps of ice.
As we reached the cove, the silty floor rose up to meet my feet. Beside me, Henrik made a motion with his hand and commanded, “We rise as one.”
“Aye,” came the reply through the water.
We breached the surface and strode onto the sandy beach.
I kept my bubble intact until I was several paces away from the lapping waves, then disintegrated it.
The air wrapped around me like a cold blanket, and I let out a shiver before instinctively reaching down and checking on my daggers.
One, two, three… Six. All of them were exactly where they belonged.
Henrik stepped up beside me. “Bryn? Will you show us the way?”
That was the plan.
I surveyed the sailors and took a deep breath. “Follow me.”
The tunnels were as cold and ominous as they had been on my last visit.
The only difference now were the puffs of breath and the glow from Henrik’s royal fae magic that he guided above our heads.
Footsteps pattered against stone, the smell of snow filled the air, and webs of frost and icicles clung to the walls around us.
We moved in a long line, ducking where necessary to avoid the lower ceilings, and clambering between small gaps.
Henrik kept pace right behind me like a shadow watching my every move.
It was a trait I was coming to learn was common with him.
He’d gladly follow someone if he deemed them worthy and knowledgeable.
Which was flattering really, especially considering how often my focus drifted from one thing to another.
I steered us left, deeper into the network of tunnels. A short grinding noise sounded from up ahead, almost like a groan, and I halted on the spot. Henrik crashed into me but reached out to steady us both.
“Is that him?” he whispered against the top of my head.
I nodded.
We’d made it.
One more bend and we’d be in Hrim’s chamber.
Henrik’s hold vanished and he turned back to his crew. “All right, you know the plan. Five left, four right. Laknar, you stay hidden in the tunnel with your protection. Bryn and I will approach from center.”
That last part was the bit of the plan that gave me pause.
I was so used to taking things, I wasn’t sure how putting it back would work.
Perhaps I could throw it at him and run?
That would be the plan if I was operating alone.
But with others, well, I should probably be more strategic.
There was also the question of what happened if the Heart of Hrim broke?
What ancient magic or terror would that unleash?
Some rumors claimed it contained the souls of the dead, while others were adamant that it held the ghost of a long-lost Viking that was furious with the fae.
No, caution was best. Henrik was, annoyingly, right.
We would have to approach carefully, not wake the giant, and put back what had been taken.
“Ready?” Henrik tapped my hip.
“Let’s return this necklace.”
With that, we snuck closer and closer. Henrik dimmed his ball of light magic until it barely lit our path. The bend turned and opened up into the gigantic cavern that was Hrim’s home.
Treasures of time gone by littered the floor.
From chest pieces to Viking helms and golden goblets that would look nice on my table.
In the center of the room was a mound of treasure that grew shinier and sparklier the longer I stared at it.
A glow seemed to emanate from it too. Curled up atop it all, chest rising and falling in a peaceful slumber, a few scratches visible from where we’d hit him with cannon fire, was Hrim.
My heart raced at the sight of him and I shook out my hands.
This was it.
I—no—we were doing this.
I wasn’t operating alone on this one.
With sharp hand movements, Henrik motioned for his sailors to move into their positions. They’d been instructed on the ship to kill Hrim, or at least slow him down, if things went wrong. They listened to their captain and fanned out to the sides, keeping close to the curved, rocky walls.
I slunk closer and closer to the monster, tiptoeing up the mound and past treasure, with Henrik at my side.
Step after step my heart rate increased and it felt like a woodpecker was pounding within my chest. One wrong move would wake him up.
One misstep could send the stalactites on the ceiling crashing down upon us.
One breath in the wrong direction could—
Someone’s foot caught on a platter’s edge, upending some of its contents in a clatter that echoed around us. I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart thrashing against my ribs.
Shite.
An icy-blue eye popped open and speared me with a terrifying glance.
Very shite.
“Time to move,” I said.
Henrik winced. “Fuck.”
Hrim roared and chaos broke lose.