Page 89 of A Curse Carved in Bone
Geir snorted, not the first time I’d seen him clinging to the behaviors of the living. Like breathing. “And on the assumption Grindill has already fallen to Harald, Ylva aims to trade Bjorn for Leif?”
I nodded; it was not lost on me that Ylva had a head start. Bjorn was far from helpless, but Ylva and her warriors were familiar with his magic and would not underestimate him. What if she’d arranged the exchange already? What if Harald had Bjorn? My hands started to shake, because if he was…
I refused to allow myself to finish that thought. Refused to imagine life without Bjorn. Besides, it made more sense that Harald would attempt to bind Bjorn the same way he had Tora. Death was final, whereas a life like Tora’s gave Harald infinite possibilities for amusement. And as long as Bjorn was alive, there was hope.
“Freya?”
I twitched, realizing that I’d been silent too long. “I think Harald will agree to the trade, but it won’t save Leif in the long run. Harald will assume that Bjorn has told Ylva about him being a child of Loki, and he’ll not suffer anyone he believes knows the truth to roam free. He’ll either bind them or kill them.”
“Honorless trickster,” Geir hissed, the sound making me wince.
“Yes, but knowing that he is so gives us an idea of what he’ll do,” I said. “I don’t think he will default to force and violence to make people bend the knee. He will use guile.” Frowning at the waves, I added, “It’s a game to him, Geir. Just like in the stories of Loki himself, Harald wants to manipulate others, trick them, pull strings to make them do things they otherwise would not. It isn’t having power that gives him pleasure but the process of gaining it. Violence will only come if his back is against the wall or someone angers him. Or when he grows bored.”
“We will not give him a choice,” Geir answered. “We will find him and fall upon him like a plague, for we cannot be harmed by the weapons of mortal men.”
“But he’s surrounded by Unfated who serve him faithfully,” I reminded him, regretting having told him about his newfoundinvincibility. My brother’s vaingloriousness had not been reduced by death. Quite the opposite. “If you are struck by Skade’s arrows or Tora’s lightning, it will be your end.”
My brother didn’t answer, but I saw more than a few of the Skalander undead turn their heads, my words having reached their ears.
“We have to be clever,” I said. “The Nordelanders, they do not know the nature of the man they serve, and I do not wish to see a field of their dead left in our wake in order to reach Harald. We must find a way to reveal the truth to the Unfated who serve him, for without their support, I think he will run rather than stand his ground.”
“You’ve an idea of how to achieve this? They’ve no reason to believe you, especially if he denies your accusations.”
Ylva had told me that the runic magic to capture memory would only work once, and I’d used it for her, so that method was lost to me. “Steinunn.” The idea had been forming in my head for some time. “I’ll recount what happened on the island, and she will sing it. All who hear will see Harald’s change from Saga’s form to his own. Hear his trickery from his own mouth.”
“You assume they will care,” Geir said. “Harald has made their lives good off the bounty taken in raids. His trickery has been to their benefit.”
I chewed the insides of my cheeks, then shook my head. “I met many of his cabal of Unfated in my time in Nordeland, and they are for the most part good people. I cannot believe they’d choose to serve a child of Loki.”
“Perhaps.” Geir shrugged. “The question is, how will you prove this speculation? The moment Harald realizes you are alive and have escaped, all his efforts will be to silence you, and we”—he gestured at all of the warriors—“are bound to you. We exist in this realm because we swore to serve you. I believe our souls will leave our bodies if you die, and Harald will be once again victorious. No doubt he will reward his Unfated handsomely for their loyalty. In their minds, the only people he has tricked are you and Bjorn. Why should they care?”
The coast of Skaland was growing on the horizon, but rather than filling me with elation, I only felt rising unease because I’d thought showing Harald’s Unfated what had happened would be enough. That I’d be able to win this without a catastrophic loss of life, because my hands were already red with blood.
“It is better to fight,” Geir said. “Kill Harald and all those who are loyal to him. A clean victory, and Skaland will be safe. You have an army of the undead, and we have you to shield us from the Unfated. You will be victorious.”
There was logic to what my brother said. It was the way these wars had always been won in the past, but it didn’t feel right given that I knew that all of Harald’s army was deceived. It wouldn’t be glorious victory but murderous slaughter. Though I knew the prophecy of my leaving a field of dead in my wake was Harald’s fabrication, not Saga’s vision, to walk the path my brother suggested would make it reality.
Changing the subject for no other reason than because I needed to tamp down the rising sourness in my stomach, I asked, “Where is Ingrid? Is she well?”
“Selvegr. She’s well, or was when I set sail. She is certain our child is a son.”
I gave a tight nod, and I wondered if it had sunk into my brother’s soul that he would never go home. That he’d never see his family again.
Silence stretched, then Geir said, “It was a deception, that moment in Grindill when Ragnar held a blade to my neck. Ingrid was never threatened. It was a ruse to try to make you keep fighting for Snorri. Part of the deal I made with him to regain my place. I’m sorry for it, Freya. And not just for that, but for all the other moments that I stood on your back to achieve something for myself.”
My eyes prickled with tears. “I’m sorry for killing you.”
Geir laughed, and though the sound of it was strange and horrible, my heart felt stronger at hearing it. “Then let us both be grateful for a last opportunity to do right by each other.”
We stood in comfortable silence as the coast grew ahead of us, familiar mountains and fjords, though there was no sign of Harald’s fleet or Ylva’s ship. In my periphery, I saw a flash of movement in the sky, and then a merlin landed on the bow of the drakkar.
“Kaja,” I breathed, grief pooling in my stomach because I could only imagine what a blow Guthrum’s loss was to her.
Geir was staring at me, and I explained. “She is…wasthe familiar of one of Harald’s Unfated. He went overboard in the battle. Guthrum was a good man.”Mostlygood, at any rate.
Kaja abruptly flew right atme.
Cursing, I ducked sideways. She flew away from the ship and then circled back around, flying at me again. Geir swatted at her, but I caught hold of his arm. “No! Look!”
