Chapter 17 #2
“Kilia, I”—I shook my head—“I tried everything.”
“You’re lying,” he hissed so that spit landed on my face. “You didn’t use your magic.”
Fuck. I moved my hand to the back of my neck.
“I did,” I said. “I did everything I could.”
His face leveled with mine, his amber eyes narrowing. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” I said, trying to soften my voice. “I promise you, I did.”
Something flickered behind his gaze, and my heart leaped.
“Are we all good here?” Fedic came skipping up the brow, moving leisurely but with an intention that got him to my side in seconds.
Kilia’s hand wrapped around my arm. “We’re having a conversation.”
A crooked smile brightened Fedic’s face as he slid a knife out of his sleeve, moving it so swiftly I realized he’d cut Kilia’s wrist only when blood dripped down onto the worn deck of the ship.
“Conversation over,” Fedic said with a sweet smile.
“You—”
Fedic moved the knife so it poked into Kilia’s ribs. “Leave.”
“You wouldn’t,” the twin snarled.
“You’re welcome to test me,” Fedic said, his smile even wider. “But I was selected to join the Hird for my skills in weaponry.” He patted his tunic with his other hand, and metal clinking followed. “I have more playthings here.”
“Kilia,” I said. “Just… I’ll talk to you later.”
“I want to talk now,” he growled.
My fingers tightened around the railing, and when Kilia took a step toward me, the plank he’d stood on tilted, sending the silver-haired man backward until he had to use both hands to keep his balance. “See,” I said calmly. “Even the ship agrees this is not the time.”
My skin prickled with fear at what battled across Kilia’s features, but I couldn’t let it show.
Fedic wiggled his fingers when Viljan’s hand wrapped around Kilia’s neck.
“I’ll drown you in the fucking sea if you touch her again,” Viljan snarled.
“I wasn’t going to hurt her.” Kilia’s face went dark. “I just wanted to know why she let him die! I don’t understand why she didn’t help him.”
Viljan’s eyes widened for a moment before his other hand wrapped around Kilia’s throat as well, but his arms trembled and his eyes shut as he began choking the twin.
It wasn’t the first time Viljan had killed for me, but it was the first time he would do so to someone undeserving, and we both fucking knew it. There was no honor in this death—there was no god who would look upon it favorably.
Besides, Kilia didn’t know. Not yet, at least.
“Let him go,” I ordered quietly.
My guard shook his head, and I cleared my throat against the ache starting in my chest.
“Let him go,” I said again. “Now.”
Viljan only closed his eyelids harder.
Fedic stumbled backward when I shoved him in my haste to reach the two men. Kilia was starting to turn blue, his thick arms, which had pushed and raked down Viljan’s chest, becoming weaker.
“I said let him go.” A sneer curled my lip, and my voice dripped with the disdain of a woman born to be obeyed—the exact tone Lika would use with me when he pulled rank. “If you don’t, you’ll be released from my service and shipped home for our other guards to deal with.”
Viljan’s mouth parted. “You wouldn’t.”
My laugh was as cold as the blood in my veins. “Try me.”
He lowered his voice into a whisper. “You know why I need to do this.”
“He doesn’t know,” I mouthed heatedly.
Viljan’s nostrils flared. I don’t care was easy to read in his eyes.
Kilia’s eyes bulged, red filling the white, but he was still following our conversation.
“I can deal with a karl,” I spat. “I don’t need your help.”
I wanted to let the emotions behind my mask slip—show him that Kilia’s suspicion that something was off was my mess to clean up, not his—but we had gathered a crowd, so I only made the smirk overtake my entire face.
“Now. Guard.”
Viljan took a step back, and Kilia’s hand flew to his neck, where dark bruises had already bloomed.
“Leave,” I ordered the twin. Kilia dazedly shook his head, but thankfully he listened, shuffling away while the crowd let him through. Viljan hovered, something unfamiliar and haunted filling his hard face.
Something shattered within me when I waved an impatient hand. “You as well.”
“No—”
“Go.” I turned so neither Viljan nor the rest of the initiates would see the glossiness of my eyes. “I don’t want you here.”
I wasn’t sure why the gods had allowed me to live this long, but I wasn’t risking the man I would trust my father’s legacy with. I would have to find another way to remain alive the next few days.
My hands clenched around the wood, my eyes staring unseeing out over the deck, as the warriors beneath me finished getting everyone onto the five ships.
I felt their eyes on me, and I shouldn’t have, but I returned their gaze and pinched my lips at the disgust filling every face, especially Darcke’s, who let out a low scoff before he climbed the brow, stalking past me as if I didn’t even exist.
“You did the right thing.” Fedic’s smile was weak as he nudged me. “Your guard should listen to you when you give him an order.”
I didn’t bother responding as Torden turned from where he’d been studying me and called, “Listen up! The choosing is in five days. We are going to spend them honing your skills in fighting. Heirs, you should use them to evaluate the karls to make your choices easier. Karls, this is not the time to hold back.” Torden turned to me once more.
“You’re recommended not to stay close only to those you know.
Your iron-bound are going to be your inner circle, not only in the Hird but for the rest of your life.
A friend today might be an enemy tomorrow, and who you truly need as your second might surprise you. ”
Rakkel came up beside me. On the other ships, Ivren and Ottoh stood, like us, close to the bow, their faces turned to the speaking warrior, and I shared a look with each.
Ivren gave me an encouraging smile.
Rakkel pressed her lips together.
Ottoh smirked as he raised his brows my way.
Then fucking Geord gave a cocky smile as he and Borje came up in the bow of a fourth ship.
“This is Geord Palsjo.” The scarred warrior’s voice was sharp, cleaving the wind like an axe did a soft neck.
“The king has appointed him to replace Adrion Leskog, who the gods claimed in the first trial. He hails from Adrion’s home isle and was the one who brought Adrion’s body home with him so his family may honor him on his journey to Valhalla. ”
Geord smirked as he touched his chest, where Adrion’s father must have carved skydd, allowing the man to tap into his powers until the gods gifted him his own.
“And he was the one who killed him.” The girl from earlier came up to my other side, twisting her pale hair. “As if he wasn’t planning on this outcome from the moment he was selected for the Hird.”
“It’s the gods who decide which heirs lead the next generation,” Fedic mumbled from behind me as the warrior continued, stating that the king had organized a feast the night before the choosing to celebrate a new heir being chosen. “Not us.”
“That’s why you switched your arm ring so you could join Elvara?” the girl replied. “Because the gods told you so?”
Fedic didn’t miss a beat. “I have a feeling the gods will look favorably on her.”
My laugh surprised me. Fedic was sweet, but if that was his best gut feeling, I wasn’t impressed.
“I need some space,” I said, keeping my hand on the railing as I walked up to the dreki.
Caressing its horns, I rolled my shoulders.
“At least I don’t need to fight today,” I whispered.
“And who told you that?” Darcke said, something dangerous trickling into his deep voice and his smile so deadly it could rival the Svartoarna wolves’ maws.
“Torden,” he called. “I think our heirs should show the karls what they can do before they get to relax, don’t you?”
My stomach surged when the other warrior grimaced my way before shrugging. “Sure.”
“Great.” Darcke patted the ship, and every tap of his fingers felt like a threat. “Great.”