Chapter 19
Nineteen
Darcke left me alone the next few days, and thankfully the karls were busy enough with learning how to fight aboard a moving ship that none of them bothered me much, either, apart from a few nasty glares and taunts here and there.
I spent most of my time hiding out in the stern of Darcke’s ship, avoiding everyone—especially Viljan and Kilia. Pulling my knees against my chest, I shrank into myself when the latter’s attention landed on me, his gaze hot with blame and betrayal.
He knew. He knew, and either he was going to hold it over my head, or he was going to find the best moment to reveal it to everyone so that he could watch the king and his men kill me for it, thinking Lika and the rest of my family were next.
I picked at a swirl in the plank beneath me.
I wasn’t avoiding Viljan only because I didn’t want my dishonor to bleed onto him.
He’d tell me we had to take care of Kilia—that there was no other way for us to survive.
My nails scraped against the ship until a plank lifted, nearly smacking me in the face.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “That wasn’t fair to you.”
“Do you always talk to the ships?” Ivren motioned for me to move aside, and when I did, he squeezed into the spot beside me, his back against the hull.
I shrugged. “The ones who understand me.”
He touched his shoulder to mine. “Sometimes I wish they could talk back, but I also think it’s probably good they can’t. They hear too much. It would be dangerous.”
My eyes stared, unseeing, ahead as I replied, “Do you keep secrets, Ivren Solsken?”
“No more than you.” There was a grimness in his tone that surprised me, but he was all smiles when I turned his way. “Have you thought more about your iron-bound?” he asked when I remained silent.
My eyes drifted to Viljan. He pretended not to be looking our way, but he was. His back was twisted at an angle to eavesdrop, and his face was turned in hope the wind would bring our words to him.
“Viljan will be my second,” I said. “I don’t yet know who I’ll choose apart from him.”
“The choosing is tomorrow, Elvara.” Ivren turned to look at me. “There is no one else you could consider?”
Fedic, maybe. He had checked in on me every day. But even with him… How was I supposed to know how to make this decision? How was I supposed to know who I wanted in my inner circle for the rest of my life? However short it might be.
“These people will know everything about you,” Ivren continued. “They will be sworn to protect you and your secrets for the rest of their lives. It’s the highest honor for a karl. You can’t just… select someone on the day.”
“I know,” I said. “I—”
I went still.
They will be sworn to protect you and your secrets for the rest of their lives.
Kilia stood leaning against the railing, his lips quirking when he found my eyes on him.
I could hear Viljan’s disagreement roaring in my mind. You’re only doing this to spare his life—because you feel guilty about his brother. It wasn’t your fault.
Oscri’s death might not have been my fault—not entirely, at least—but if I did this, I could ensure none of the Havskold twins’ blood would stain my hands.
“Where did you go?” Ivren asked.
“Nowhere yet,” I said as the training ended. “But I need to find Viljan.”
But as I jumped up on my feet, seven karls surrounded me, their features contorted into menacing grins. More stormed forward, passing me and going for Ivren.
My back flew straight, my instincts blaring.
Were they seizing the last chance they had to kill us before the choosing?
“Back up,” I warned as I lifted my hands as if they would be able to do anything against this many of them. Even if I’d still had my rune, seven men was pushing it. “I won’t say it again.”
“Elvara, wait,” Ivren said as I kicked at the closest one’s groin.
The rest of his words disappeared when two of them got hold of my arms and pressed them against my body, a third going for my legs. As one sneaked an arm around my chest, I bit down on it as hard as I could, and his growl hissed over my skin.
“Let me go,” I snarled while I twisted my body the best I could, alternating between going limp and moving as much as possible to get out of their hold.
“Stop fighting,” one of the men ordered. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“Much,” another added.
“It’s tradition!” Ivren called. “You’re fine!”
The men who’d gone for him were carrying him across the ship, and when Ivren let out a low howl, they threw him into the air before catching him again. I couldn’t see the other heirs, but similar cheers came from the other ships.
I tried to slow my frantic pulse, but hard fingers dug into my skin, pinching and squeezing wherever they could, and my blood raced faster again.
Laughs surrounded Ivren as the karls pretended to drop him when they walked down the brow, but the men around me weren’t chuckling.
There was something more vicious hiding behind their half-upturned lips.
When someone gripped my leg hard enough that I yelped, a deep, melodic voice broke in. “Set her down.”
“But it’s tradition,” protested the one who was holding on to my leg as if he planned to split it in two. “The heirs are always brought to a final challenge the night before the choosing.”
“It’s supposed to be fun,” someone else said snarkily.
“Doesn’t look like she’s having fun. Set her down,” Darcke ordered sharply.
“She could get away,” a third added. “She’s not even really fighting. We’d know if she used her rune.”
“I don’t care. Set. Her. Down.”
Even though Darcke didn’t have any powers beyond his body or mind, the men faltered, their grips loosening.
When they hesitated, still keeping me in the air, a groan sounded, and my legs were released.
As Darcke drove a fist into a face hovering above mine, my arms were let go too.
I had prepared myself to crash into the deck when strong arms wrapped around me, these ones gentler—not as urgent.
For a moment Darcke cradled me against his pounding chest, and when I met his eyes, even the waves went silent. A shadow crossed his face, and then I was on my legs, Darcke shoving overboard a man who’d decided to go for his back.
The other men scrambled to their feet when their friend’s scream was cut off as he cleaved the surface.
As they started running toward the brow, Darcke chuckled quietly.
“My ship remembers,” he called after them as they tried to overtake each other to get away.
“Do not fucking try to come within ten feet of her again.”
I raised my hand to my hair, trying to smooth it out where my struggles had messed it up, as the men followed the crowd that was heading toward the lake. “Thank—”
“My ship doesn’t like trouble,” Darcke snarled. “You should go. They are bastards, but they’re right. It is tradition for the heirs to be challenged the final night before the choosing.”
The cheers still echoed across the glen where the tents and longhouse stood, bodies that I guessed were heirs being thrown into the air from time to time.
I wetted my lips. I had no desire to go through some type of final trial. I’d survived this far, but I still needed to live until sundown tomorrow.
“Your guard is waiting by the end of the dock,” Darcke said. “Go.”
“How do you know?” When I turned that way, I could see Viljan pacing back and forth across the grass, his hands tense by his sides.
“Because I told him to.”
I opened my mouth, but Darcke interrupted me. “I said. Go.”
“Why can’t you accept my thanks?” I asked as I passed him, keeping my distance. There was still something wild and lethal surrounding him.
“I didn’t do it for you.” The warrior didn’t look at me as he pointed to the brow. “That way.”
Gods, he truly was the angriest man I’d ever met.
When I reached the opening in the railing and took my first step onto the brow, I couldn’t help but spin around and call, “Thank you!”
Darcke’s sigh made my tired mouth snap into a grin. Unfortunately that grin died as soon as I reached Viljan’s side.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his gaze everywhere but on mine.
“No,” I replied.
“Great.” Viljan started walking.
We were silent while we wove through the dim forest where the other initiates shouted and sang and whistled.
After a while the path parted, one trail leading upward, winding through the thick trunks and one taking the majority of the karls to the lake.
The heirs were carried up the other one, and a shiver racked my body as we followed.
“Viljan,” I said.
He didn’t reply, but his head tilted slightly, so I decided to continue anyway.
“I’m going to pick Kilia as my third.”
I held my breath, and exactly like I’d known he would, Viljan spun my way, his expression wild. “What?”
“I know,” I said, lowering my voice to try to get him to as well. “Trust me, I know. But he knows, Viljan. He knows about my magic. He knows what that means.”
“How long?”
“What do you mean?”
“How long has he known?” Viljan demanded. “You told me he didn’t only a few days ago.”
“I think he’s suspected since Svartoarna but understood for sure when I had to walk between the ships.”
Viljan’s face grew taut. “I assume there is no talking you out of this?”
I lifted my chin.
He looked about to say something else when we reached the others. The silence we walked into was as strained as the one we’d brought with us, and I looked around, confused.
We were standing about halfway up a steep cliff. The trees surrounding us climbed all the way to the top, where a beautiful, sparkling waterfall rushed down. Beneath us the lake spread out, and to its side stood the karls who hadn’t joined us up here.
Judging by the brimful horns reflecting the pale moon, they’d conjured a feast out here in the forest. There were even a few instruments playing in the back, the soft tunes of lyre and drum echoing through the night.
Whatever this was didn’t warrant the fearful expression on Rakkel’s face.