Page 52 of A Curse Carved in Bone
I hesitated, then broke into a run, Tora alongsideme.
“Is it Snorri?” she demanded as we raced to collect water from rain barrels. “Did you see him?”
I shook my head, unease that had nothing to do with the fire souring my stomach. Something about this didn’t feel right.
Taking two buckets of water each, we ran back to where the flames were the thickest. The smoke was choking but Harald stood on the roof of the home nearest to the fire, a pot of paint and a brush in his hands. Painting wards on the rushes to keep them from catching ablaze, coughing and choking, tears streaming down his face.
Guilt pooled in my stomach as I threw the water onto the worst of the fire. If this was indeed an attack by Snorri, every loss that Hrafnheim took tonight was on my shoulders because my decisions had brought him here.
All the people of Hrafnheim worked together to extinguish the flames. Six homes were reduced to sodden ashes, and their former owners stared miserably at what remained of their belongings. Harald waved away Volund when the healer attempted to treat his cough, demanding the man see to individuals with burns.
All around was misery and darkness and fear, but with the attack over and the wards back in place, I headed to the great hall.
Only to find it nearly empty.
“Where is everyone?” I asked a passing warrior.
“Harbor,” he responded. “They fled for fear the hall would be lost to the fire.”
An intelligent choice, but I still felt a prickling of dread as I headed in that direction. The air was heavy with the stink of ash and the streets loud with coughing and crying, the darkness feeling as though it pressed down from above. The quay was packed and the harbor chain lowered during preparations to flee the fire. I searched the crowd for Freya’s pale blond hair but she was nowhere in sight.
“Freya!” I shouted, fear swiftly turning to panic. “Freya!”
Tora appeared.
“Where is Freya?” I demanded. “I can’t find her.”
“I left her in the great hall.” She wiped sweat from her forehead. “She has to be in Hrafnheim somewhere. The bridges are raised.”
The efforts put toward the fires now turned to hunting for Freya. Her name echoed through the town and Harald put the wolves to the search, but with each passing minute, my hope we’d find her helping in some corner of the fortress diminished.
“Skoll and Hati say she came to the harbor,” Harald said, then doubled over coughing.
“Well, she’s not here now!” I scanned the dark waters, gaze moving out to the rapids of the Rimstrom.
“Would she hide?” Harald asked.
“Born-in-Fire does not hide.” What if she’d fallen in the water? Or been pushed? “Freya!”
Then Skade pushed through the crowd, dragging an old man by the arm. “He says his boat is missing. She must have taken the opportunity to escape.”
“She would do no such thing.” I was deeply conscious of my last conversation with Freya. Escape was the last thing on her mind. Yetthere was no denying that both wolves stood on the edge of the quay, their yellow eyes fixed on the Rimstrom.
“I saw who took your boat,” a small voice called out. It was the boy I’d rescued during the attack, then sent to the great hall. “It was a stranger carrying his sick wife. He said the smoke was killing her.”
No.
“It wasn’t an attack,” Harald snarled. “It was a diversion.”
Dread pooled in my stomach, along with vicious rage at myself because I could have prevented this. “He’s taken her back.”
“What is it?” I demanded of Tora, because Una had swooned to the floor. “What is happening?”
“Those manning the walls have signaled an attack.”
My pulse escalated, dread slowly pooling in my stomach. “Snorri?”
“It is too soon for him to have brought an army across the strait,” Tora said with a frown.
