Chapter 25 Freija #2
I raised my hand to my shoulder and pressed some magic back into myself while picturing long blonde hair and rounded ears. Warmth swirled in my sternum and washed over me like a downpour of hot water.
“That is…” Mads muttered, already out of the boat, his eyes as wide as blooming roses. “Impressive.”
“Can’t you do it too?” I asked as I grabbed my bag, took his proffered hand, and clambered out.
“Only the ears. I’ve never been good at clothes or hair.”
“Practice makes perfect.” And I would know. I’d spent hundreds of hours honing the skill.
“It could also make you accidentally appear naked more times than is necessary.”
I chuckled and brushed my hands over my skirts.
“Ragnhild will never let me forget about it,” Mads muttered.
“She does have a tendency to do that.”
He extended his arm and I looped mine through his, resting my hand in the crook of his elbow.
Halvar cleared his throat.
“Ah, yes, almost forgot,” Mads started and peered over his shoulder. “You three will need to mirage parts of your appearances too, especially you, Halvar. We can’t have anyone recognizing you.”
My guard grimaced.
“You are rather… noticeable,” I added.
That earned me an eye roll and a grunt that I recognized as an expletive.
But Halvar did as requested and raised his hand to his shoulder and altered his hair color to black and added some green material to his clothes.
It was bizarre to see him without his usual silver locks—he looked several centuries younger.
He was handsome either way, but I preferred the silver.
Vigi and Finn followed his lead, also adding green material to their ensembles.
Together we looked like a couple being escorted by Forest Fae members or humans who happened to like the colors gray and green.
“Now, where exactly are we headed next?” I asked Mads.
We’d been discussing his life as a Forest Fae and the outdoors during our trip while the trio kept watch. It had been such a freeing conversation—and a distraction from the hum of nervous energy coursing through my veins—that I hadn’t bothered to ask him much about the rest of the journey.
His chin tilted toward a large ship at the far end of the rocky harbor wall.
I sucked in a lungful of salty fog.
“Absolutely not,” Halvar said.
The vessel looked like it carved through icebergs for fun.
Tall masts jutted into the morning sky, ropes dangled from various pieces of rigging, and water slapped against the broad, wooden hull.
It reminded me of the stave churches the humans had started building in the region—using parts from old ships to construct their places of worship.
This was one such ship that hadn’t been brought ashore yet, and with the number of people aboard, I doubted it would any time soon.
“Come along.” Mads tugged at my arm. “We don’t have much time.”
Halvar stepped in front of us and whispered through his teeth. “Are you trying to get us killed?”
I wasn’t sure what had Halvar so concerned, but Mads didn’t back away from the imposing fae staring him down. “Why do you think I told you to mirage your appearance? This is the only way unless you want to be on horseback for the better part of a fortnight.”
A huff sounded from Halvar, but he took a step back and reassumed his position in our little grouping.
We walked into the village of wood buildings and stone cottages that looked like they’d been carved out of the cliffside.
Crates and barrels sat along the walkway that skirted the water’s edge, while children ran around in their thick wool clothes, ducking and weaving between villagers, several of whom yelled at the little ones, begging them to stop getting under their feet.
The entire place brought a smile to my face.
We rounded the far end of the town and strode along the harbor wall, which was formed of gigantic boulders and easily twice my height on the outward facing side. On the interior, though, was a sight that had my smile vanishing.
On the prow of the massive ship was a carving of a falcon clawing and eating a giant sea serpent.
People I could only assume were actually fae in varying shades of blue and gray attire scuttled about on board; some of them washed the deck while others prepared the big, blue sails.
The sight reminded me of one of Father’s tales.
Beware the third son of the inland sea
No captain more ruthless and brazen than he
Whose sails and blood run blue
Looking for a treasured hue
Blue sails. I sucked in a breath and tugged on Mads’s arm as we reached the long gangplank. “Whose ship is this?” Please don’t be his. Please don’t be his. Please don’t be his.
“Henrik Balderson.”
No. Not the man who sank ships for fun. The man who drowned people for looking at him wrong. The man who, rumor had it, killed stowaways and fed their corpses to the hawks that prowled the coastline. No wonder Halvar was angry.
My grip on Mads tightened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“The less you know, the safer you—”
“That is not true in this case. Did Ragnhild approve this? Do you know how much danger you’re putting me in? What if his father, King Balder of the Fjord Fae, gets wind that I am out of the mountain? What if Henrik could use that to his advantage somehow? We are at peace, but what if—”
A sailor ambled down the thin, wooden walkway, killing the words tumbling from me. We stepped aside to let him pass, and he eyed us with enough suspicion to fill the harbor.
Mads peered up at my now blonde hair, hidden beneath my hood. “Just keep your hair that color and stay in the kitchens and you’ll have nothing to fear.”
That was debatable. “Are you sure there is no other vessel we could take?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
This could go terribly wrong. In so many ways. But what choice did I have?
“Come along.” He tugged at my arm again. “We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”
We traipsed up the fog-slicked gangplank to the vessel’s wooden railing where a member of the crew tracked the individuals coming and going from the ship.
Mads greeted the man and gave him our names: Mads, Ana, Henning, Vigi, and Finn. Heading for the fourth port of call.
Stood before a mound of crates with a quill in hand, the stout man with a dense, gray mustache furrowed his wispy brows at us. “What payment do you offer the ship?”
“Tell Henrik that his second debt to Mads Robertson is being repaid.”
Those brows furrowed further as he wrote something down on the scroll at his makeshift table.
Second debt? What was the first? And were there more?
Mads had been a close confidant of Ragnhild’s for quite some time after they met on the sparring field.
But the Forest Fae soldier didn’t seem to adhere to any formal role.
Perhaps he was doing some sort of espionage for her?
Or operating outside of whatever his orders were from King Thorleif?
“Very well.” Ink met paper in sharp motions.
The sailor ushered us aboard and we were guided by another past crates and trunks being stowed in the deep hull, then onward for a quick tour of the ship before finding our beds for the journey.
Not that they could really be called beds.
“Hammock” was more appropriate for the pieces of fabric slung from rafter to rafter.
The way they swayed as we left port was an omen of illness.
One I was sure would rear its ghastly head once we hit open waters.
I’d never been this far from the mountain, and never on a vessel as large as this. Hopefully my stomach would survive.
After a few hours in the sleeping quarters, watching sailors come and go, my stomach churned violently.
Halvar and Finn had been asleep for the last hour, swaying in their respective hammocks, while Vigi—hood pulled over his red hair—sat next to a barrel and lamp nearby, keeping warm.
Mads slung his feet out of his hammock beside me.
“Go get some air.”
I hugged my arms around my midsection. “More movement seems counterintuitive right now.”
“If you are going to be sick, you can do so over the side of the ship. Swinging back and forth in that hammock is only going to make things worse than they actually are.”
“How are you surviving this?”
He let out a sound that was half-chuckle, half-scoff. “I’ve spent a lot of time on the water.”
“More than any other fae of your kind?”
“That’s certainly up for debate.”
Interesting. Mads really was a unique character.
“Ana, please go upstairs before I’m forced to clean up after you.”
Well, when he said it like that… I didn’t want to be a burden to him or any of my other guards. He was already aiding me on this adventure and putting himself at risk of strangulation by Halvar should we be caught by the captain.
Heaving myself from the hammock in one swift movement, I tumbled to the floor and landed on my hands and knees with a smack. Pain smarted through my palms and reverberated up my thighs.
Mads’s head appeared over the side of his swinging bed. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Only my pride.” I hoisted myself to my feet and stumbled a few steps before I regained my footing.
“Good. Now, air.”
“You sound like Ragnhild.” And Halvar, but I didn’t want to think too hard about him.
Mads snickered and leaned back in his bed. “Air, Ana.”
Right. The ship listed to one side, sending me stumbling away from my travel partners and toward the stairs that led up two levels to the deck.
I grabbed onto the railing and hauled myself up, hips bumping against the smooth wood banister as I bowed my head to stop from hitting it on the low ceilings.
When I finally reached the deck, I breathed in a short but relieved breath.
That could have gone a lot worse, and loath as I was to admit it, I was already feeling better. Those hammocks were cruel.
Vigi appeared behind me with a gentle nod. “Miss. Are you hurt?”