by A. E. Rayne
Alys shooed the children away to play with the puppy. ‘How did you get brought back to life? How did she come to you?’
‘What, you don’t know? Being a dreamer?’
‘Know how to bring someone back to life? I doubt a dreamer could do that. That’s magic. Perhaps only goddess magic?’
Arnon leaned forward, touching her hand. ‘What does it matter now? She brought me back, but everything’s changed. Nothing’s as it was in Ullaberg. You’re... different.’
Alys moved her hand away, thrilled to know that that was true. ‘Nothing stays the same. People are always changing. I had no choice. I didn’t know you were alive. I saw you die.’ She wanted to keep him calm, in a state where he was no threat to the children.
‘I did too.’
‘You did?’
Arnon nodded. ‘I saw the sky, clouds rushing overhead. They were grey at first, but they slowly became black, and I knew I was dying. It was like all the light was leaving the sky, and I wanted to run towards it, to hold onto it, but it shrank so quickly, the darkness suffocating me. And then I woke up, in our bed, and Alari was sitting by my side.’
Alys shivered. ‘What did she say?’
‘She told me that I was destined to live, not die. That she’d brought me back so I could be reunited with my family. She promised to help me find you and the children.’ Arnon turned around, feeling like an outsider. As though his family neither wanted nor needed him.
Knowing that that had always been true.
Alys heard his thoughts, familiar feelings of pity bubbling up.
She clenched her jaw, pushing her wet boots down on the floorboards. Arnon was not her future, but she couldn’t have him getting in the way. She patted his hand, ignoring Magnus’ horrified look. ‘We’ll find a way to go home.’
‘Will we?’ Arnon looked at her in surprise. ‘You’re sure about that?’
Alys hesitated, seeing his desperation. ‘I... ahhh... Reinar Vilander is coming tomorrow. Gudrum is getting married. There’ll be a big feast, a celebration.’
‘So we could slip away?’
Alys hadn’t meant to imply that, but wanting to keep the peace, she nodded. ‘Perhaps. No one will be paying much attention to us. They’ll all be too drunk.’ She kept talking about something she had no intention of doing. ‘Perhaps we can leave?’
Now it wasn’t just Magnus who was staring at her in surprise.
Lotta held onto the puppy, her face frozen in shock.
And Alys kept digging her hole. ‘Mirella might want us to stay, but she’ll be busy trying to please the new lord, won’t she? Everything has changed now that Gudrum’s here.’
Arnon sat up straight, hearing the interest in Alys’ voice. ‘And you want to leave? With me?’
Alys nodded, unable to stop herself. ‘Yes, I do.’
47
It took some time, but eventually, they bumped into a shivering Ludo, who had left the fire to look for a long-absent Eddeth. And thrilled and amazed to see both Eddeth and Reinar, he led them back to their campfire, where they all warmed up before quickly following Reinar through the trees to where his army had set up their own camp.
Ollo stumbled after Reinar, grumbling, not wanting to leave their perfectly good fire behind, but he cheered up at the sight of the ale and the food and the numerous bright fires dotted around Reinar’s campsite. ‘Where did you get all of this, then?’
‘We had some luck. Came across a village and a farmstead.’
‘You did?’ Ludo was surprised. ‘But we haven’t stumbled across a soul!’ He frowned, thinking back to their misadventure. ‘Well, not in some time, at least. We did come to one farm, didn’t we?’ he grinned, shaking his head.
Stina shuddered, remembering. ‘We did, yes.’ She peered around the flame-lit campsite, pleased to see no sign of Elin Vilander, though she did spy Ilene, quickly looking away to where Reinar was trying to make space for them in front of the nearest fire.
‘Here,’ Reinar said, shunting Bolli out of the way. ‘In this weather, it’s lethal to be away from a fire for too long.’ His teeth were still chattering, and he shook, holding out his hands, still thinking of what he’d said to Eddeth; wondering if it was the truth. He saw Jonas watching him, and he blinked as Ilene and Berger approached.
‘Hello, Stina,’ Ilene smirked. ‘We always seem to be bumping into you.’
Stina ignored her.
‘It’s the gods!’ Eddeth declared loudly. ‘They’ve brought us all together again! And now we have a chance to save everyone. Alys and Sigurd, and the children too!’
No one looked as certain as Eddeth, their attention shifting to Bolli, who had found an ale jug, quickly filling every cup he could find.
Eddeth would have preferred a steaming cup of passionflower tea, but she sipped the chilled ale, her eyes darting from Reinar to Jonas to Ollo, who was eyeing Ilene with some interest, remembering how vicious she was with a sword. ‘Well, now that we’re all together, we can talk about our plans for tomorrow. Who wants to go first?’
Raf left Mirella’s chamber feeling conflicted.
The dreamer had talked about many things she’d never considered possible. She had shown her herbs to help her dream deeply, and symbols to shield her thoughts from other dreamers.
But what did she want?
Not Gudrum on Orvala’s high seat. Nor on Alekka’s throne.
Raf was sure about that.
She turned down the corridor, recognising the door where Gudrum was keeping his wife-to-be.
Solveigh.
Raf both hated and pitied her.
She hated Gudrum too.
Or did she?
Sighing, she headed down the corridor, annoyed by the squeaking, creaking floorboards beneath her boots. In a forest, she knew how to creep about quietly, stealthily, sneaking up on animals, hiding from dangerous beasts, but here, with walls and floors and chairs, she felt clumsy and loud.
Gudrum emerged from the chamber, and turning his head at the noise, he smiled. ‘Where were you all night?’
Raf bit her lip, looking down at her hands.
And reaching her, Gudrum lifted up her chin, kissing her as though she was his. As though he hadn’t just been with another woman. The one he wanted to marry. Tomorrow.
She pulled away from him. ‘I was with Mirella. She was teaching me things.’
Gudrum looked pleased, pulling Raf further down the corridor, away from Mirella’s chamber. ‘And can we trust her?’
Raf didn’t think so. ‘She cares about Eutresia.’
Gudrum didn’t understand.
‘The first Goddess of the Sun.’
‘I know who she was,’ he hissed impatiently. ‘But why should I care about that?’
Raf didn’t know.
It was important somehow, as was that strange man, Greppa.
‘I don’t care about any of that, Raf. I care about if we can trust her, or if not, how we can kill her? What does Alari say?’
Now it was Raf’s turn to be confused. ‘I haven’t spoken to Alari. I can’t seek her out. She comes to me when she wants. Not often, though. Only when she needs something, or when she wants to help.’
Gudrum looked both annoyed and intrigued. ‘And does she want to help us now? Is that what you see, Raf? Does she want to keep helping us?’
Raf shrugged. ‘I can try and dream. Mirella showed me some things. I can try to find Alari in my dreams.’ She thought of Sigurd, wanting to lie in his arms, and realising that as a true feeling, she smiled. ‘I’ll sleep now and tell you in the morning.’
Gudrum was pleased to hear it. ‘Tomorrow’s a big day for all of us, so have every dream you can. I want to know everything you see. Every single thing.’ He kissed the tip of her nose, watching as she walked away.
Reinar was reminded of how much he missed his father’s voice.
As he sat around the fire with Jonas and Vik, listening to them argue with Bolli, he thought of his father, who’d had a booming voice and
a fiery temper and a big heart most of all.
He smiled, grateful that he’d bumped into Eddeth. She looked half-asleep opposite him, but every now and then, her head would jerk up, and she’d nod vigorously.
It was late, and Reinar’s eyes were heavy, though he was the one who’d be walking through those gates in the morning, and he needed to be prepared.
He’d decided to take Berger, Ludo, and a handful of men with him, leaving Jonas and Vik to share command of the army.
Vik hadn’t argued about that.
Jonas had.
‘Alys is my granddaughter. They’re my family!’
‘Which might become a problem for you if Mirella can’t help herself. Maybe she’s unhappy with this Gudrum for stealing Orvala from her lord, maybe she’s not, but one thing’s for sure, it will be harder for you than any of us. Best you’re here with Vik, where you’re most use.’
Vik and Reinar stood before him like a wall, and Jonas knew both men well enough to know that there was no budging them. So, nodding with some reluctance, he turned his eyes down to his ale, still feeling Mirella in his arms, his chin touching her head as she clung to him, her little body trembling, promising to see him again soon.
Ollo sought to cut through all the fussing about dreamers and families and get to the heart of the matter. ‘If things turn to shit, how will we escape?’
Reinar eyed Benn, who’d become quieter with the new arrivals. ‘Only thing we can do is come back the way we came. Head for the ships. We’ve beached the fleet near Furkat, but best we separate heading back. If there’s trouble, if we’re running, we need to divide our forces. Make them choose who to follow.’
‘Well, I hope they don’t choose me!’ Ollo laughed, glancing from Jonas to Reinar, trying to decide who was less likely to get him killed.
And sensing that Ollo was weighing his silver, Reinar laughed. ‘Best you stay with Jonas,’ he suggested. ‘Hidden in the forest. I’m sure you’ll get plenty of warning that things have gone awry.’ He frowned, hoping that things wouldn’t go awry.
‘We need some sleep,’ Vik decided. ‘They’ll be in there, preparing for you. Better give yourself a clear head. All of us!’ he called, lifting his voice. ‘Let’s get some sleep!’
Eddeth had just fallen asleep herself, and Vik’s booming voice had her jolting upright. ‘What? What happened?’ She spun around, confused. ‘Where are we?’ Then seeing Reinar peering at her from across the flames like a handsome bear, she let out a long breath. ‘It’s a bit early to be waking up, isn’t it? Not even a peep of the sun!’
Reinar grinned at her. ‘Get some sleep, Eddeth. We’ve hours till dawn.’
She stared at him, blinking slowly, lids drooping, and then her head jerked up, and she scrambled to her feet, struggling to catch her breath.
‘Eddeth?’ Vik rose to grab her before she tipped into the fire. ‘Are you alright?’
She shook her head, then nodded it, confused as to how she felt. ‘I, I, I’ve seen something! Someone! Closing her eyes, she gripped hold of Vik, feeling the stonelike strength in his arm. And eyes blinking open, she looked into his. ‘It’s that man, Ulrick Dyre. Ulrick Dyre is coming!’
When it was time to sleep, Alys left Arnon sulking on one side of the cottage while she joined the children on the other. It was a relief to feel a shift between them, though she kept her sword beneath her bed, within reach, just in case.
Wrapping an arm around Lotta, Alys wriggled down the bed, hoping to get comfortable, though it seemed unlikely, all three of them squeezed into a short bed with a squirming puppy for company. ‘Goodnight,’ she whispered into an already snuffling Lotta’s ear. She gently squeezed her daughter, knowing how far she’d travelled to find her, though it was frightening to think that Lotta was a dreamer. Being a dreamer was dangerous. Dangerous for you, for the people you loved. Yet Alys knew that she couldn’t free herself with a sword. And she couldn’t free Sigurd or help Reinar either.
She closed her eyes, knowing how pointless it was to always be thinking of Reinar Vilander.
Though she smiled, realising that it remained impossible not to.
Sigurd felt a growing fear for his brother, certain that Gudrum’s cat-like grin hid dark intentions.
He couldn’t sleep.
His arm was throbbing, and he couldn’t relax, trapped between battling feelings of grief and desire.
Tulia wasn’t here, and he wished she was.
And yet, more than anything, he wanted Raf to open the door and slip into bed with him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Worrying about her.
And Reinar.
He wanted to be free, but at what cost?
Closing his eyes, Sigurd tried to take himself back to Ottby. To before Hakon Vettel had come, when Tulia had been begging him to leave. She’d been so desperate for him to go with her and Amir back to Kalmera. And he tried to imagine how different things would have been if he’d said yes.
The door opened, and Raf stood there, waiting for a heartbeat, as though she was still trying to decide what to do.
Sigurd sat up, pushing himself against the tall wooden headboard, remembering what Ilmar had said. ‘Don’t come in. Please, Raf. It’s not safe,’ he hissed.
She stayed where she was.
‘Ilmar knows. You have to go. Please.’ He didn’t want to say it because he was lonely, and he wanted to hold her. ‘Go!’
And dropping her head, Raf turned back around, slipping through the door.
Alys walked the ramparts, blonde hair streaming in a rushing wind. She felt unusually warm, as though the sun was shining on her face. The wind was warm too, and she walked with a sense of calm purpose, her attention moving from the forest on her left to the harbour on her right.
The sun was setting, hints of dull light quickly suffocated by the darkening clouds.
Alys stopped, closing her eyes, and when she opened them, it was completely dark.
And then the noise.
Swords. Screams. Horses roaring.
A horn.
Alys started walking again, seeing a woman in the distance. She felt no fear as she approached, watching the woman’s dark cloak flapping like a pair of wings behind her.
‘Alys de Sant,’ Alari hissed. ‘My enemy’s enemy. So what does that make us, I wonder?’
Alys didn’t know.
‘Do you think your Mother will be so distracted by the problems I’ve caused that she’ll just let you go? That you’ll free Sigurd Vilander and just slip away?’ Alari was smiling, though her voice was a threatening snarl, and her eye glistened with anger. ‘That she brought your prize of a daughter all this way just to let her go? Or perhaps she just wanted to be a grandmother? Ha! But you are no dreamer if you believe that!’
‘What do you want from me?’ Alys wondered, feeling unsafe. ‘You’ve had your revenge, so what do you want from me now?’ She could hear drumming, and reminded of Eddeth, Alys tried to turn her head.
She wanted to run away.
‘I need your help.’
‘To defeat my mother?’
Alari started walking, stopping an arm’s length from where Alys stood, reaching out to touch her shoulder. ‘You are a foolish girl to harbour hopes for Mirella. That bitch won’t hesitate to kill your children. Or you.’ She saw doubt in Alys’ pretty eyes. ‘What? You think you can change her? Help her? That by working with her to defeat me, you can somehow change her?’ Alari laughed, shaking her head. ‘Believe me when I say that she would happily kill you.’
‘Why? Why are you so sure about that?’
‘Because Mirella killed her own mother, so do you think she would even hesitate to end you and your children? Mirella Vettel killed her own mother!’
Alys hadn’t even blinked before Alari had vanished, and she was left standing on the ramparts, the wind cold on her face now, her body chilled to the core.
Mirella sat at her table, unable to calm her mind.
She felt weary, though she coul
dn’t bring herself to look away from her new symbol bowl until she knew for certain that everything would work as she willed it to. As she had planned with Greppa.
There were many enemies now and few allies.
She could see Tarl, but she couldn’t reach out to him. He looked angry and lost, as though his rage was destroying him rather than aiding him. Though he rode through the night as she hoped he would, so maybe there was a chance that he would meet the men she had sent to him?
Relying on others was no guarantee to get what she wanted, Mirella knew, but now, here, trapped by Alari, she had little choice.
She wanted to see that pathetic goddess. She wanted a glimpse of her.
To know where she was.
And finally, realising that she needed help, Mirella pushed away her bowl, drawing the red book towards her.
‘I’m sorry I left. That I went away. I shouldn’t have left.’
Regrets.
Death was so final. No chance for another chance.
Just left to dwell on mistakes, the missed opportunities to make different choices. They had been staring him in the face. And yet...
‘The Goddesses of Fate know what they’re doing. They weave those threads with purpose, Jonas Bergstrom. Death is inconvenient, painful, but it always has a purpose.’
Jonas didn’t care. He had been without his wife for over twenty years now.
He didn’t care about death’s purpose.
‘I miss you.’ His voice caught, and he dropped his head, wishing Eida was next to him, before him; anything but just her voice. ‘When you died, everything went wrong. I lost my way.’
Eida sat beside him now, and he spun towards her in surprise, throwing his arms around her. ‘You’re here!’ he sobbed, squeezing her tightly.
She wasn’t an old woman in his dreams. He didn’t know what she would have looked like as an old woman. He saw her as she was on their last day together: dressed in yellow, golden hair wet and unbound. She’d been up early, washing it in the stream, he remembered. He could smell lavender. Such a familiar scent.
