Chapter 43
Forty-Three
My heart beat a slow rhythm as Darcke steered us through the narrow inlet, each pulse bringing us closer to the overgrown island, where pine and spruce and silver birch tangled with each other.
Birdsong filled the air as the beach we’d moor at grew larger, contrasting with the death that hung in the air as all of us heirs and our seconds lined up in the bow, war paint smeared around our eyes, in battle leathers with fur-lined shoulders and with our new blades in our hands.
Darcke’s shoulder brushed mine as he came up beside me, and for a moment my breaths came easier.
Summer rain peppered us with its soft warm drops, and as Darcke turned to me, dark lines trailed down his high cheekbones from the paint on his face, making him look like a handsome death bringer. A strand of hair fell into his eyes when he righted the sword on my back, and I reached up to move it.
His dark gaze collided with mine. The world slowed at the storm raging over his features, and while I knew I shouldn’t, I cradled his neck and pulled his forehead to my own.
As his ship sailed the final distance, we stood like that.
Quiet, backs straight, eyes only for each other. It was a silent gesture of defiance not to search the shore for our enemies, and I held on to that when the hull met sand, making us slide to a stop.
Darcke’s hands had rested by his sides, but now they came up to cup my cheeks. “You’re staying with me.”
“Yes.” I meant both today and for however long we would have together.
The muscle in his jaw worked when he felt it, but he didn’t say anything else as his hand slipped into mine.
“You ready?” Ivren said as he and Viljan came up to my side.
“I think I have to be,” I replied.
Viljan looked Darcke up and down.
“She is trained,” my former guard said. “She can handle her own.”
“I know,” Darcke drawled. “I’m keeping her close so she can keep me alive.”
“Want to bet us girls will take down more than you men together?” Vero said as she dragged a quiet Rakkel with her.
I wiggled my brows at the female heir and second, even though I felt no excitement for what we were about to do. “I’d back that. What do you say, Rakkel?”
“Yes.” While her face was still more devoid of emotions than when I’d first met her, there was something determined in the way she gripped her short sword. “That sounds good.”
Stefen came up behind her, while Geord and his second walked up to the railing beside Darcke.
Ottoh and Vero touched the rune over their hearts as they faced the beach, and I averted my eyes when the other heirs did the same, whispering my fingers over the back of Darcke’s hand instead before letting go and climbing onto the railing.
A low hum vibrated in my throat—the song of long-lost lands that my father’s ship would sing as we crossed vast oceans—and I closed my eyes for a second. Then I jumped, landed on the damp sand, and pulled my sword.
Darcke came next, and when the others followed, their feet finding the beach with stifled thumps around me, I started walking toward the dense forest before us.
As our boots left the sand for pine-riddled ground, the soft crunching and birds’ wings beating the air were the only sounds spilling through the afternoon.
“How do we know where to go?” Geord asked after a while of walking through thick forest.
I shrugged. “The island isn’t that big.”
“So you plan to just stroll around until we stumble upon them?” Geord scoffed. “Who made you the leader anyway?”
“Watch your tongue when you speak to my heir,” Darcke warned.
“You watch it, A’lian,” Geord taunted. “I saw you two earlier. I think the king would be very eager to find out how cozy you are.”
I didn’t have time to react before Darcke had the heir against a tree, his sword at his throat. Geord’s second paled, but unlike how Darcke would have reacted if I were the one with blood pooling around the blade at my neck, he took a step back.
“That’ll be difficult if your head is no longer attached to your body,” Darcke said.
I should have stopped him, but watching Geord squirm was too satisfying. And Darcke was still trembling from held-back fury, so perhaps taking it out on Geord would help soothe some of it before it distracted us when we found our enemies.
“You wouldn’t,” Geord spat, but the shaking in his voice didn’t make it sound very convincing.
“No?” Darcke’s lips lifted on one side, and I could taste his temptation to spill this man’s blood. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. And no one is here to stop me.”
“Enough.” Ivren was clever enough not to touch my second. “Geord, we’re on the same fucking side.”
“But they’re—”
“I said enough,” Ivren ordered, and to my surprise Geord snapped his lips shut. My brother’s friend shot me a look before he continued. “We’re all on the same side. Let’s not forget that.”
“And what side is that?” Darcke asked, head tilted.
“The one that wants us all alive so that we can meet the gods,” Ivren said.
“Darcke,” I warned when a growl rumbled in his chest.
This had been entertaining, but if I was going to find a way for Darcke to escape the king, him killing one of the heirs wasn’t going to help. I couldn’t have him risking anything right now.
Ivren’s worried expression cemented my thoughts, and I grimaced when the others shifted uncomfortably. I guessed my second turning on one of us—even if that one was Geord—hadn’t instilled much confidence as we faced off with our enemies.
Darcke turned my way, that dangerous smile still lifting his features. “Are you on this carrion feeder’s side, heir?”
For a second, I wasn’t sure if he meant Ivren or Geord, but then Geord yelped as the sword pressed harder against his bobbing throat.
I shook my head, trying to communicate through the bond but getting nowhere, since Darcke was so focused on deciding whether it was worth pissing me off to slit Geord’s throat.
“But Ivren is right,” I said quietly. “We need to stay together for now.”
Darcke’s mouth opened and closed, and while I’d known he’d be disappointed in me, it was like taking a punch to the gut when he pushed off Geord and turned his back as he continued our trek through the forest.
“You all right?” Ivren tapped Viljan’s arm for him to stay. “I didn’t mean to anger him. I—” Ivren settled his features into a mask of neutrality as he waved for Ottoh and Vero to go on—to follow Stefen and Rakkel, who’d fallen in step with Darcke.
“You can go now,” Ivren snarled when Geord lingered, his face almost as red as the blood trickling down his throat as he furiously whispered something to his second. “You’ve done enough.”
I kept my head turned away when Geord stomped off. With everything going on, it was difficult to separate my emotions from Darcke’s, and the urge to strangle the Palsjo heir was so intense I swayed.
“Maybe we should have let Darcke kill him,” Viljan muttered when Geord made a threatening gesture, his finger sliding over his throat. “I fucking hate that guy.”
“No one likes him.” Ivren fingered his hilt. “But we might need him. For now.”
“Why?” I asked.
Ivren tilted his head to the others. “One moment.”
I thrummed my fingers against my thighs as we waited for them to get out of earshot.
“What did you mean, we might need him?” I asked, urgency skittering over my skin. Despite Darcke being annoyed with me—again—we were in enemy territory, and our bond didn’t want us separated. I didn’t want us separated.
“You know what we talked about last night?” Ivren asked.
“Yes.” The others were almost out of sight now too. “Go on.”
Ivren noted the foot I was tapping against the ground, and he started walking toward where the others broke through the bushes, his voice a whisper. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, and I might have an idea. But it’s dangerous, and unfortunately it requires us to work with Geord.”
“As if he would help us.” I used my sword to cut through an especially thorny bush, my eyes trained on the back of Darcke’s head. It was impressive how his blond strands flitting around his face betrayed his irritation, and I almost smiled when Ottoh halted because Darcke came too close.
“We can make sure he doesn’t have a choice,” Ivren said. “If we’re all in on it, he’ll have to be as well.”
“What are we talking about?” Viljan asked, a crease marring his forehead.
“Taking down the king.”
Viljan went ghostly white as he spun my way. “Did you… did you know about this?”
I bit down on my bottom lip. “Yes.”
As always, Viljan caught on quickly. “Because of him.” He waved toward Darcke.
“Not only,” I replied. “Because of them too. Lika and my father. Someone is coordinating these attacks as retaliation for everything we’ve done to these nations, Viljan. They would still be here—they would still be alive—if it wasn’t for the king forcing us on all these quests.”
Ivren bowed his head. “And because of Adrion, and everyone else who’s lost their life because of the king.”
Viljan’s face was still blanched, but he gestured for Ivren to go on.
“As I was saying, I couldn’t stop thinking about it after we spoke.
I… There is one way we could take him down.
” Ivren cleared his throat. “My mother told me that when she and your father received their runes—when they stood before the gods in their halls—magic didn’t work.
The gods do not allow power beneath their roof, so for a brief moment before each heir has been given their rune, we will be on equal standing with the king and his men.
” Ivren moved a branch for me. “It’s not foolproof.
They will outnumber us. But there is a chance.
Seconds are not allowed into the actual halls, but if we can find a way, Darcke will also… ”
“Be free,” I finished, hope fluttering in my chest. “Right? Even if the shaman’s power is different, that’s how it’ll work? His magic hold on Darcke cannot exist there.”
I didn’t want to think about what could happen if the gods refused me a rune because of everything I’d done. They’d let me live so far, so there must be something I’d done right.
“It’s all divine magic,” Ivren confirmed. “In there, his mind should be his own.”
Viljan’s face went from mine to Ivren’s. “This all seems very risky.”
“So is living under a king who creates more enemies by the day,” Ivren replied.
And being bonded to someone leashed by him.
The plan was risky, but if I wanted Darcke free, this might be my only chance. My eyes drew his way, and he turned his head at the same moment, seeking me out as well. When I smiled, he rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the ember of heat kindling in his chest, and that only made me grin wider.
“We’re going to need all the heirs on our side,” Ivren said as I tried to get my brooding second to smile back at me. “Rakkel shouldn’t be hard to convince—her family blames the king for everything happening to them. I will find a way to bend Geord to our will. Ottoh is the only one left.”
“I’ll try,” I said. “He was worried about it when I touched upon the subject yesterday, but if I take the time to explain, hopefully he’ll see our side.”
“What about Darcke?” Viljan asked. “The other seconds will follow their heir’s lead, but Darcke isn’t exactly… the most pliable. What if he disagrees? He doesn’t like you being at risk, and if you were doing it for him…”
I licked my lips, and my second’s eyes dipped down to watch.
“I’ll find a way,” I said.
I would. I had to.
“You’ll need to be careful. He’s still tied to the king,” Ivren warned.
“He hasn’t told him of our—” I snapped my lips shut, my pulse quickening.
Even with them—even here—it wasn’t safe to speak of what had happened in the room on Darcke’s ship. I didn’t think Ivren or Viljan would be surprised, but something within me told me to be quiet.
Ivren opened his mouth, and a branch snapped.
Darcke whirled a second before people fell from every tree towering over us, but it was too late. Fifty or more hooded people stormed the forest, blocking my second from view.