Page 27 of The Knight

He worked it free, holding the small device up to the moonlight—a radio transmitter. Without hesitation, he dropped it to the ground and stamped on it, grinding the pieces beneath his heel.

That might slow Raptor down—for a bit, anyway. But he wasn’t fooling himself. He knew just how relentless they could be.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, weighing the logistics of calling Fox. It had been over six hours since they’d last checked in, and Fox would be worried. Still, there wasn’t much point until he had a solid plan in place.

Soon.Once he had a plan in motion.

Climbing back into the car, the noise stirred Freya, and she blinked groggily at him. “Where are we?”

“No idea.” He gestured at the bleak landscape around them. A sudden pang for the green forests of Norway surged through him. “I think I’ve seen enough volcanoes to last a lifetime.”

She gave him a tired smile as she pushed herself upright. “How long was I asleep?”

“Two hours, maybe more. I was focused on the road.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Adrenaline exhausts people. You needed the rest.”

He glanced around at the moss-covered hills, the sense of desolation creeping into his bones. “Where are all the trees?”

“You actually want me to tell you some facts?” He caught the faint vulnerability in her tone, a hint of something softer beneath her usual sharpness.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“They cut most of them down, hundreds of years ago.” She wiped a circle with her fingertips in the fogged side window. “When the Norse settlers arrived around 870 AD, Iceland was covered in forests—mainly birch. But they cleared them for farmland and building materials. By the early 20th century, only about one percent of the forest was left. People have been trying to replant, but it’s slow going.”

“That’s really interesting. I didn’t know that.”

She gave him a such sweet, shy smile in reply it made his heart give a kick.

Damn.

He cleared his throat, trying to shake the sudden warmth her smile sparked. “Hard to imagine. Looks like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie.”

His gaze swept the sparse, treeless landscape as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The weight of their situation crept back into his mind, but something in this moment felt different. Calmer.

“We need to lie low for a bit,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant to break the moment between them. “Somewhere safe where we can stay the night—give me time to come up with a plan.”

Freya stared out of the window. “I know someone.”

That caught his attention. “Who?”

She faced him. “Asta Eriksdottir. She was my mentor when I was at the University of Reykjavik working on my PhD. We’ve kept in touch over the years, though not as much lately. She lives off-grid. She’s, well, let’s just say she’s eccentric.”

Abe nodded, his focus shifting, his tactical mind back in gear. He turned the ignition, and the engine roared to life. “Where does she live?”

15

The adrenalinethat had fueled Abe through their frantic escape from Freya’s house had long since evaporated, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness.

Now, as the first rays of light pierced the horizon, his eyes burned from lack of sleep, and his muscles ached. But he couldn’t afford to relax. Not yet. Not until he was certain Freya was safe.

The stolen vehicle was a pathetic stand-in for his Guardsmen’s SUV—the suspension felt like a pogo stick, and the engine barely had enough power to blow out a candle. But he pressed on, steering them north to the remote north, where Freya’s old mentor lived. This woman was so off-the-grid she didn’t even have a phone or internet.

It was like trying to find a unicorn in a snowstorm.

Not much had changed despite hours of driving. Ghostly plumes of steam rose from vents in the earth, and the barren fields of lava formations still stretched before him. But here and there were patches of emerald moss and brave yellow poppies bobbing fearlessly in the wind that gave him hope.

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