Page 39 of The Girl the Sea Gave Back

Behind him, Gunther stared at me with surprise lit in his eyes. I’d never killed another person. I wasn’t sure if I could. But I had to stay if I was going to have any chance at appeasing Vigdis.

As soon as I lowered the knife, the man shoved me hard and I slammed into the tree behind me.

“I told you.” The woman beside Gunther shook her head. “We should go back.”

“Not without the Nadhir,” Jorrund answered, his voice lowering in warning. I wasn’t the only one who’d fall under Vigdis’ wrath if we came back empty-handed.

“Stop it.” Gunther finally spoke from where he stood in the shadows. “All of you. We stay until dawn. If he’s not here by sunup, we’ll go back to the others and Vigdis can deal with her.”

“Wait,” Jorrund whispered, his eyes lifting over us.

I turned to see a figure moving out of the trees on the other side of the village. A man. The moonlight hit the blade of an axe at his side and he stopped at the post before two more shadows followed after him.

“It’s him,” I whispered.

Jorrund leaned in closer to me. “How do you know?”

“I told you. Isawit.”

We crouched down, going silent as the three figures moved through the gate and onto the main path that led through the village.

Gunther nodded to the others and they pushed back into the forest to come from the west side, their weapons drawn out before them as the three men disappeared into the ritual house below. They moved silently down the slope and I sank beside a tree, watching them hop the fence that encircled Utan before slipping into the shadows.

I closed my eyes against the pain in the center of my forehead. The vision of the Nadhir before the gate was still sharp in my mind. His bloodied axe, his hand pressed to his side. What I’d seen had been real, but it still felt like a dream. And now that it was coming to pass, the knot between my ribs wound tighter, the prick of tears springing up in my eyes.

The sound of shouting brought me back to my feet and I searched the little bit of the village that was visible, but it was too dark. There was only moving shadow and shifting smoke. I fixed my gaze on the doors of the ritual house, my fingers tangled into one another until my fingernails bit into my skin. When another man screamed, Gunther sighed beside me.

“Go back.” He looked to Jorrund. “Tell Vigdis to send more men.” He ran down the slope with his sword at his side and Jorrund ran into the trees, leaving me alone.

But still, the Nadhir didn’t appear beneath the gate.

My heart raced over each breath as I watched Jorrund disappear in the darkness. I looked over my shoulder, to the village. In the vision, he was there. He was right there.

I walked down the hill with my skirt twisted in my sweaty fists and stopped, almost stumbling forward as a figure burst out of the smoke. I froze, my breath bound up in my chest and I held it until it burned.

Without thinking, the word left my trembling lips. “You.”

The sound that had found me in the glade crashed in my pounding head like an angry ocean, making me feel as if I was tipping to one side. I tried to steady myself, meeting his eyes and letting them anchor me. Because those same blue eyes were looking at me again.Rightat me.

“Are you…” He stared at me, hand pressed into the wound at his side. Blood seeped between his fingers as he spoke between heavy breaths. “Are you really here?”

But I could barely hear him over the swarm of bees in my head. The sound swelled with each heartbeat.

“I saw you. In the forest.”

I closed my eyes, wincing against the pain in my skull, and when I opened them again, the sight of him wavered.

“Who are you?” His eyes ran over my face. “What are you doing with the Svell?”

I opened my mouth to speak before I realized there really was no answer. I was a Kyrr castoff with no people and no home. I was the daughter of no one, used by a clanthat I shared no blood with. There was no explanation for it. No way to make sense of it. It just… was.

Suddenly, he was moving, closing the distance between us and his shadow fell over me before his bloodied hands wrapped around my throat, squeezing. I lifted up onto my toes and my fingers found his wrists. I held onto him, the breath burning in my chest, and I could see that even if he didn’t know who I was, he knewwhatI was. He stared at the mark below my throat, his gaze moving over my skin before he looked back up at me. I pulled at his hands, trying to draw breath, but he didn’t budge. The ache in my head began to fade as I looked up into his eyes. Because they were still fixed on mine. Tears glistened at their corners, catching the moonlight, and as he pulled in a short breath, one rolled down his rough cheek.

He looked right into me as the roar of the rushing water exploded all around us, and at first, I thought it sounded familiar. Like I’d heard it before. Somewhere deep in the memories the storm that had brought me across the fjord had washed away. They took shape, curling and twisting around pieces I recognized. I blinked, trying to listen as the darkness crept in around me, his grip tightening. My hands went cold around his wrists and I searched the sounds, trying to place them.

And suddenly, it settled. It wasn’t buzzing or bees or the crush of water or the crackle of ice. It was the sound of voices.

Whispers.

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