Page 69 of A Curse Carved in Bone
Harald giggled, clearly enjoying watching horror build in me as I came to understand his schemes. Came to understand how cleverly he played his games.
“You’re a monster,” I breathed.
Harald’s expression hardened at my words, but he only snapped his fingers at Tora like a dog. “Come.”
Tora walked toward him, visibly fighting the compulsion every step of the way. But whatever magic Harald had used to bind her was too powerful for her to resist. “Yes, my king.”
He bent his head, whispering something in her ear. Tora nodded, then lightning exploded from her hands. It shot through the air, striking the ground beneath Snorri’s body and launching it through the air.
I gasped as dirt and rock rained down on me, but Bjorn’s eyes were on Snorri’s smoking corpse, which now rested outside the barrier.
“Kill them,” Harald said. “They have served their purpose and are now only a liability to us.”
“I’m sorry,” Tora whispered. But lightning was already crackling between her palms.
“Hlin.” I snatched up my shield. “Lend me your strength.”
Magic surged and covered my shield with silver light not a heartbeat before Tora’s lightning bolt struck. It rebounded off my magic, nearly striking Harald, who cursed and leaped sideways.
More lightning crackled between Tora’s hands, and I could see in her eyes the plan burning in her heart. But so did Harald. “Tora, stop!”
She grimaced, but the flickering light between her palms disappeared. Harald slapped her hard. “You test your limits again, and it will be the death of you,” he snarled. “Obey.”
“Yes, my king,” Tora answered between her teeth. “Do you wish me to try again?”
“No. We’ve played this game before.” Harald eyed us, gaze full of cunning as he weighed his options. I knew what he’d choose. Knew that it would be a slow, painful death forus.
“You want to kill us?” I shouted. “Then come in here and do it yourself, Harald. Or are you too much of a coward?”
He only chuckled. “Such tactics have little use against me, Freya. Especially with no witnesses.”
“The gods are watching,” I hissed. “They see your cowardice.”
“Or my cleverness.” He lifted one shoulder. “No one knows you are here. You are trapped within wards with no food or shelter. If the cold doesn’t take you, starvation surely will, and my half sister will welcome you both into Helheim, for this is not a death for one destined to enter Valhalla.” Crooking a finger, he said, “Tora, fetch the corpse and have my Nameless make ready to sail to rejoin our fleet. Skaland awaits its king.”
Tears ran down Tora’s face, but she obeyed and slung Snorri’s body over her shoulder. Then she and Harald walked away.
“Coward,” I screamed. “You’re a fucking coward, Harald!”
But the only answer I received was laughter carried over us on the frigid wind. And then…silence.
I kept my magic on my shield and my eyes on our surroundings, no part of me putting it past Harald to sneak around through the trees and have Tora hit me in the back with a bolt of lightning. Or worse, waiting until I had to sleep and then coming at us again.
“Bjorn,” I whispered, taking hold of his hand. “We need to find a way past these wards. We need to escape.”
He didn’t answer, and I tore my gaze from the trees to look at him, my heart breaking as I realized he was staring at the bloodstains left by Snorri’s body. My lips parted to offer some comfort. To tell him it wasn’t his fault. That Harald had tricked not just him but everyone. But nothing came out. What comfort would my words be, given that Bjorn had spent the better part of his life serving a man who used him only to damn him in the end? Not just serving, but loving Harald as a father. Through accident, Bjorn had caused the death of his mother, and through manipulation, his father. Had been tricked into fighting against his own people, his own family, every choice he’d made on the basis of endless layers of lies. “I know,” I whispered. “I know this—”
“You don’t know.”
Bjorn pulled away from me, and I grimaced. “Stay close. They might come back.”
“They aren’t coming back. They don’t need to.” He crouched down. “Leaving us here to starve means long days of me coming to terms with being the cause of your death, Born-in-Fire. Which is the worst part of all of this.”
My chest tightened, because I could only begin to imagine this sort of hurt. To have one’s whole life unravel in a moment. I reached for him, but Bjorn held up his hand.
“Don’t,” he said. “I can’t stand the thought of you touching me right now. You are going to die because of me, and I deserve nothing from you but hate.”
“I don’t hate you.” His grief hollowed my own core. “I love—”
