Page 17 of The Girl the Sea Gave Back

Aghi snapped his arm back, his sword slicing into the arm of a man behind him before he raised it up over his head to bring it back down into his chest. I jumped over the body as we pushed forward, staying close to Aghi’s back.

Bekan pulled his sword from the side of a Nadhir and I took the knife from my belt, sliding to a stop as I aimed. I sank my arm back, the handle light in my fingers, and sent it forward, the blade flying. Bekan faltered as it caught him in the shoulder, one knee hitting the ground before he got back to his feet and ran straight for us. His sword rose behind him, launching toward me before Aghi plowed into his side, knocking the blade from his hand. He lifted his axe, but in the length of a breath, Bekan tore my knife from his shoulder and drove it forward with both hands.

Aghi doubled over and it wasn’t until he hit the ground that I saw it. The handle of my knife was lodged between his ribs. I swallowed a breath as bright, sputtering blood poured from his lips and when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t hear the sound of my own scream. I could only feel its burn in my throat, lighting my chest on fire as I ran to him.

I fell to the grass, catching him in my arms before he tilted forward, and his bright blue eyes looked up at me, his mouth moving around words I couldn’t understand.

“Aghi.” His name was strange on my broken voice and I tried to hold him up, but he was too heavy.

He sank to the ground as more blood dripped from his lips and his hands clutched onto my tunic. He pulled me down toward him, but he couldn’t speak. The light was already leaving his eyes.

“Don’t…” I whispered. But his gaze was unfocused, lifting to the sky above us.

He was already gone.

My mind tried to grab hold of it, frantically sifting through the raging flood of thoughts, but I couldn’t think. I couldn’t pull myself from the grass, my hands clutched so tightly to his armor that the bones in my fingers felt as if they might crack. It wasn’t until the glint of a blade shone ahead that I blinked, coming back into myself.

I looked up, focusing my vision past the hot tears in my eyes, and Bekan ran before me, taking a Nadhir down with one arm, the other still bleeding badly at his side. I stood, yanking my knife from the bones in Aghi’s chest and paced heavily toward the trees, headed straight for him. He didn’t see me until I was already gaining on him. His axe flew at me and I sank onto my heels, letting it fly over my head before I jumped back up and bolted forward, the knife clutched tightly in my hand, slick with Aghi’s blood.

I roared, the battle cry tearing from my throat as I reached him, flipping the knife in my fingers to come at him from the side. I cut into his other arm, dragging the blade down, and he fell back into the shade of the trees. Another cry broke behind my ribs as I came over him, clutching thehandle with both fists as I raised it before me. I screamed as I brought it down with the weight of my whole body, plunging the blade into Bekan’s heart.

His head rolled back and he gasped, coughing on the blood coming up in his throat, and I suddenly felt too heavy, the earth pulling me toward it as a whistle rang out. I looked back to the glade, where the Svell were cutting down the last of the Nadhir standing. At the very center, Espen lay in a bed of red-painted grass.

I turned in a circle, the world spinning around me. Espen was dead. Aghi… I tried to breathe past the strangling vision of his face going slack as he died in my arms. The breath wheezed in my lungs as more Svell came from the trees across the glade and what had just happened sank into place.

The Svell chieftain’s brother had come to Ljós with a plan. We were never going to leave this glade alive.

My side hitched and I tilted, wincing against the tilt of the world around me, willing the earth beneath my feet to steady me. I clutched at my side, where a steady stream of hot blood was seeping from a cut in my armor vest I didn’t remember getting. My hand slid over the wet leathers as I pressed, trying to slow it. But a guttural roar made me look up to the glade, where Vigdis was staring at me, eyes wide, as I stood over the body of his brother.

CHAPTER SEVEN

TOVA

The morning frost covered the ground around us as we moved through the trees. It glittered in the early light, turning everything to crystal. The days had been warm and damp with the spring storms coming in from the sea, but the cold had crept in during the night.

It was a warning, just like the nighthawk.

The Svell checked their armor and weapons in silence as we lined up before the glade, where Bekan stood before the sunlit grass. I studied the serene look on Vigdis’ face as he took his place beside his brother.

He and Jorrund had spent the morning speaking in hushed whispers, their breaths fogging between them as they rode side by side ahead of me. The chill crept up my spine as I watched Jorrund from the corner of my eye. There was something buried deep beneath the calm on his face.Some unsteady, wavering thing in his eyes that I could just barely see.

Gunther took his place in front of us, leaving me for the first time since Vigdis ordered him to watch me. He’d been careful to not so much as look at me as we rode through the night, keeping his distance. The truth was that even though Vigdis had meant his presence to be a looming threat, having Gunther at my back made me feel safer. And now, as we stepped into the glade and Jorrund’s smooth exterior seemed to be crumbling, I found myself taking a small step closer to where Gunther stood.

“Stay beside me.” Jorrund spoke lowly in my ear.

The Svell stood like statues, their eyes watching the tree line across the glade. Jorrund’s gaze was fixed on the brothers, his arms crossed over his chest and his fingers tapping his elbows nervously. He was worried. Scared, even. The weight of the rune cast had settled down on every aged bone and sore muscle in his body and it all came down to this moment.

The warriors shifted on their feet and I looked up just as movement in the shadow of the trees ahead appeared. Bekan lifted one hand into the air, mumbling something to Vigdis, whose jaw clenched as the Nadhir appeared across the stretch of dead winter grass, still half-hidden in the trees.

Bekan reached for the clasp on his chest and unbuckled it, taking the sword sheath over his shoulder and holding it out to Vigdis, but his brother only stared at him.

“You started this. Now, you’re going to finish it.” Bekanlooked him in the eye, his face streaked with the blood of a raven Jorrund had sacrificed to Eydis at sunrise.

Vigdis gritted his teeth, insulted. It was an order that took Bekan’s rebuke even further. One that he made before the other leaders and one that Vigdis’ dignity wouldn’t recover from easily. It was a foolish move for the chieftain, stoking the flame of his brother’s anger when he needed him most.

After a moment, Vigdis took the sword, fitting the sheath to his own back. It was Siv who didn’t take her eyes from him, her lip curled over her teeth, but Vigdis didn’t meet her gaze. He stared ahead to the opening in the trees, and a strange feeling pulled in the back of my mind. There were too many unspoken words between them—Bekan, Jorrund, Vigdis, and Siv. They were like steam trapped in a kettle, the lid rattling.

Bekan looked back to Jorrund before he gave the signal and we walked forward, leaving the cool of the forest and stepping into the warmth of the glade. I let my hand hover beside me, the tops of the grass pulling through my fingertips, and watched around us for any sign of the Spinners. But the clearing was quiet. And maybe that was the omen I’d missed. It wastooquiet.

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