Chapter 46 #2
The sea was unnaturally warm. Even if it was summer, the Northern Seas didn’t reach these temperatures, but it did make our swim easier as we wrestled the strange waves that fought each other in patterns of no ocean I’d ever seen before.
Darcke’s sword glinted through the pale water, the hilt sticking up above the sea like a beacon for me to follow. While we swam in silence, whenever a wave sent us closer, his hand or foot or arm or leg brushed mine as if to make sure I was truly there.
The veil came closer with every hour we swam, and when its swaying sheets hovered above us, it caressed my skin, searching, seeking for something that wasn’t in my veins anymore.
The others gasped as it took their magic, heads turning suspiciously toward each other, shoulders hiking up and making the heirs swim slower.
There was magic in the sea, though. The darkness of the skin around Geord’s eyes lightened with every stroke, and the wound in my side knitted itself together until all lingering pain vanished.
The island I’d spotted from the ship wasn’t an island at all.
At least not one like we had in Skagerik.
A path that led from the depths beneath us, where no fish swam and there was no bottom to be seen, appeared ahead.
The heirs floated in the water, waiting for the king to leave the dugout and be the first to ascend it.
As soon as the king’s boot touched the bright path, which looked like it was made from polished bone and cut through the ocean like a scar, a presence made my scalp prickle. I wasn’t the only one who spun in the water, trying to find the gazes laying upon us.
“The gods are watching,” Darcke said quietly.
“They’re always watching,” I whispered.
He nodded for me to go ahead.
I accepted Torden’s hand as he pulled me onto the strange, hard-packed path, which should have been slippery, with how shiny it was, but where my boots found grip instantly.
“You got this, Sweengard. We believe in you,” the warrior whispered before he turned to my second.
My movements were cautious as I took a step farther in. On either side of the path was water. To the south were several islands, one with dark clouds circling it, which must be Svartoarna. And to the north the veil still shimmered, as terrifying as it was beautiful.
“Is that Nordoen and Svartoarna?” Rakkel asked.
“Njord still rules the sea,” the king said. “The gods have ordered him to bring them close to home. It’s an honor to have them right here in Skagerik.”
“And fucking stupid,” Darcke whispered into my ear. “Why couldn’t we have remained on Nordoen, and they could have visited us there?”
Torden and I shot him a look at the same time.
“Watch it, friend,” Torden whispered. “You might not answer to these gods, but Njord is swimming beneath us, and you want him on your side today.”
A pang of worry shot through me, starting in my toes and winding its way up until it shook my shoulders. My brows snapped together when I realized the feeling wasn’t my own.
“I… I thought our magic wouldn’t work here,” I asked shakily.
“It doesn’t,” the shaman replied. “Only divine magic is allowed here.”
Vero turned my way. “What does that mean?”
“Your runes allow magic to flow through your mortal flesh, making it human. But your bonds are blessed by me and my divine magic, which means they remain intact.” The shaman gestured behind him.
“That’s why your seconds are not allowed into the Halls themselves.
The power of the bond belongs to the pair, but the rune belongs only to the heir. ”
My stomach somersaulted, my feet dragging to a stop.
“Darcke,” I whispered under my breath, hating how frightened I sounded. “What really happened to your people?”
Pain came first. Then confusion. Anger. But it was the frustration that made me lightheaded.
Darcke didn’t respond.
Slowly, I spun toward Ivren. His eyes already waited for me. Worry burned bright in the blue, and tension lined his jaw as he asked me a silent question.
There might come a time today when we have to pick a side. I hope we all choose the right one.
My hand moved to the hilt of my blade when everyone but Ivren and me started moving.
I blew out a long breath as I turned from the heir to the shaman. I wasn’t sure how his magic worked, but magic always had limitations. Ours was tied to the leaders we’d sworn fealty to. The shaman was alone, so… I set my jaw. He’d have to die.
Ivren still waited, and after I closed my eyes for a long second, a grim expression spread across my face. Darcke felt every emotion passing through me, but I refused to turn to his searching gaze.
Hopefully he’d attribute the fear and concern to what the Great Halls would hold.
The king walked toward where tall white gates towered all the way up to the sky, the air around them speckled with what looked like large snowflakes drifting up and down, playing with each other.
“The souls of fylgja,” I whispered as I got my feet to start moving again.
“What did you say?” Darcke asked.
“Fylgja.” I gestured to the white specks. “Those are spirits that take the bodies of animals to protect us when we need them. At least so our stories say.”
Darcke looked at me strangely. “I can’t see anything.”
I pointed again, my stomach clenching. “They’re right there.”
“There’s nothing there,” Darcke replied. “Only air.”
“Only the ones who will pass through the doors can see them,” the king said. “Like a spell, they show you a different reflection only you can interpret.”
“Don’t accuse the gods of spells,” the shaman said, far too sharply for someone speaking to their monarch.
But the king didn’t turn, his steps as purposeful as they’d been before.
“He’s so proud of his charms,” Darcke snarled into my ear. “Doesn’t want to share them even with his beloved gods.”
My hand twitched, wishing to reach for the noose I couldn’t see around his neck. When Darcke’s eyes followed, I pressed my lips together not to speak my vow that the shaman’s work would soon fade like the mist that shrouded this pathway.
A tension layered across the group, and my pulse thrummed faster for every step I took closer to those towering doors.
There was an anticipation in the strange air. As Ivren moved closer to Geord, Rakkel also falling in line behind them while Vero waited for me, it hung heavier.
Ivren turned his head over his shoulder when we were perhaps twenty feet away from the gates. “Be ready,” he mouthed, and I felt as if my body might lift from the ground when Vero’s hand brushed mine.
The king halted, spinning around until he faced us.
“The gods will call you one by one into those halls. If you’re offered their grace, you walk out with a rune that will power your section at the Hird and, when you ascend your parents’ thrones, your people.
” Gustief adjusted his robe. “If not, safe travels to the next realm.” He turned my way, and I wasn’t sure why I felt like he was addressing me when he added, “Perhaps we’ll meet again in another life. ”
A soft voice broke in from behind me. “Hopefully not for a very long time, king.”
My heart went to stone in my chest when I spun to face my mother.