“Ludicrous!”
Rime’s ears pricked up. Urd’s hoarse voice had interrupted Sigra—in defense of Hirka. Rime couldn’t picture him as anyone’s savior. Where was he going with this?
“The girl’s just a child! A mightless, unearthed child. If she’s done anything, it’s as nothing more than a pawn. Think about it! This has Ravnhov written all over it. They want to distract us, cause panic! And they’ve succeeded. We were right to send forces north, but they’re wasting time. Sleeping in camps. Why are we waiting until it’s too late to attack?”
“Urd, not even you can think Ravnhov is in possession of knowledge like this? Knowledge we ourselves have lost. That our forefathers had lost. And even if it were possible, not even Ravnhov would be stupid enough to open the stone doors. It would be suicide!”
“There’s an intact raven ring somewhere in Ravnhov! Where else could they be coming from?”
“In the Seer’s name, Urd, nábyrn sightings have been reported from places across all the kingdoms. They’re coming from places where none of us even knew there were circles.”
“Good heavens, how can we be so uninformed—so oblivious?! Some of us have pretty much lived with this girl without seeing what she was. Ilume, the truth was almost in your lap! Neighbors told you the tailless girl wanted to run from the Rite. What more did you need?”
Rime had been about to rest his feet on the ground, but quickly changed his mind. Urd had just attacked Ilume and risen to his feet. Something was about to happen.
But he’s right. None of us knew who she was.
Ilume got up as well.
“That’s enough, Urd Vanfarinn. Nothing you’re saying is helpful. No one has seen the rot in our era, and no one here had any reason to check her. The very notion is absurd. Everyone around this table thought Odin’s kin were a myth until today. Everyone! And the girl wasn’t the only one who wanted to avoid the Rite. Foggard is full of Ravnhov sympathizers. Anyway, the girl was presumed dead after the fire.”
Ilume wore her mask well, but Rime could see right through it—as could Urd, it seemed.
“Feeling defensive, Ilume? Are you saying you couldn’t see what was right under your nose?” Urd started to pace the length of the table. Rime pushed himself as close to the tabletop as he could to avoid being seen. His body burned from shoulder to ankle.
“Are you saying you couldn’t spot a traitor? Though I suppose you never could—not even among your own.”
“Urd Vanfarinn!” Eir snapped. The councillors around the table started mumbling.
Traitors? Among her own?
Were they talking about him? Did they consider him a traitor because he’d chosen Kolkagga? Ilume would see it that way, he was painfully aware of that. But the rest of the Council? Nothing could have pleased them more. Less power to An-Elderin meant more power to them.
Ilume spoke again, her voice cool—albeit slightly strained. “Forgive him, Eir. He’s tired and scared. We all are.”
Urd snorted, but to Rime’s relief, he sat down again before continuing. “We agree that the rot has to be neutralized. It is crucial that the Council appears decisive on this matter, before panic spreads through the kingdoms. But my dear friends, we haven’t even interrogated the girl yet.” A murmur of agreement rippled around the table. “Let’s take a break. We need to eat before we continue. Then we should at least question the girl before consigning her to the flames. The longer we sit here, the longer she has to polish her lies.”
Urd had created the conditions for a temporary adjournment. Rime needed it more than they did—if he was ever going to walk again.
There was agreement around the table that the girl had to die. And it had to happen publicly and send a clear message to Ravnhov. The assassination of Eirik had failed and they still needed to be put in their place. Hirka was doomed.
The Council got up and left the room. Rime heard them wash their hands in the silver basin outside the door. It had always been that way. They washed their hands of their own decisions as if their hands weren’t stained with blood every single day.
The door closed and Rime forced his feet to cooperate. He coaxed them down onto the floor, then sat crouched under the table, fending off the cramps. And the nausea. That gnawing feeling that something was horribly wrong.
The Seer hadn’t attended the meeting. Rime’s mind raced mercilessly, unstoppably. He couldn’t believe the Seer didn’t care about worldly matters. Were these details that didn’t even warrant His presence?
Then came the fear.
Why hadn’t the Seer been here? This had to be the biggest threat against Mannfalla in living memory. What if the Council had excluded Him? Decided to have the meeting without Him?
A chill ran down Rime’s spine. He needed to get out of here. Quickly. If anyone found him, he would be as doomed as Hirka.
PAIN
I’m still alive.
The cramped pit was quiet, but Hirka could hear an echoing between her ears. Voices and shouts from the Rite Hall. Unearthed. Daughter of Embla. The rot. But she was alive. Shaking all over, but nobody had run her through with a sword. Or burned her on the spot. The Seer hadn’t damned her. He had just stared at her through narrow, all-knowing eyes. Like He had always known that she would come, even though she didn’t belong here.
Rime had tried to help her.
And now he knows what you are.
Hirka pressed herself up against the wall, at the bottom of a pit that sloped down into the root of the mountain. Daylight came in via a narrow opening at the top of the pit. The light formed a perfect square in front of her, right where the ground began to slope upward. It wasn’t so steep that she couldn’t walk up it, but she wouldn’t get any farther than the grating, which covered the entire opening. It looked flimsy, but that was a cruel illusion. The bars were razor-sharp. Hirka had crawled up several times and cut herself as soon as she tried to stick her hand out. She wasn’t going anywhere.
What was going to happen to her?
None of it seemed real. The Rite. The shouting in the hall. The trembling Ravenbearer with the Seer on a staff. Hirka saw it over and over again in her mind, but it remained unreal. A painful ache in her stomach. Some people had blamed her for opening the gateways. For the return of the blind. She’d never seen any of the blind, nor had anyone else she knew. But she had seen images of them, in the rock face in Ravnhov.
Crones’ talk! Which gateways was she supposed to have opened? Gateways to the blind? Raven rings? Old stories she’d heard as a child. She remembered them. Tales of Odin, who passed through stone and stole a pair of ravens from the king of Ravnhov. Of blind tracks and blind trails. Paths leading to circles of stone where people disappeared and never came back. More crones’ talk!
But Father had found her by one of them. A stone circle in Sigdskau, up near Ulvheim. She could see Father’s face clearly, as though he was right in front of her. Red in the light from the hearth while he talked.
You were no more than a few days old. Someone had wrapped you in a blanket that blended in with the snow. You would have been easy to miss. A pale face barely the size of my fist in an ocean of frost.
Father had been right all along. He had wanted to flee. From Elveroa, from the Council, from Kolkagga. He had feared for her life. He hadn’t sacrificed his own life only for her to end up in a pit in Eisvaldr waiting to die.
The grating opened with a screech. She saw the silhouettes of four guardsmen in the opening. One of them told her to get up. Hirka hesitated. Maybe waiting to die wasn’t as bad as not having to wait any longer.
“I said get up,” the guardsman shouted.
Hirka stood and walked up to them. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, she was forced to the ground. Someone tied her hands behind her back. From her position on the ground, she saw that she was in a vault with at least six pits, three on either side. Sunlight came in through an arched iron door that was covered in spikes, some of them rusty. She could see flowers outside, delicat
e and swaying between the guardsmen’s feet. They disappeared suddenly behind white robes.
Councillors.
Someone blindfolded her. Everything went black.
I’m going to die.
She was pulled back to her feet and felt something sharp dig into her back. She stifled a scream and started to walk forward. One of the guardsmen barked directions at her, but they were difficult to follow when she couldn’t see. There were two steps. At one point she felt wind on her face and got the feeling that she was high up. A raven shrieked nearby.
Kuro?
Then they were inside again. Someone kicked the back of her knee so she collapsed. She forgot that her hands were bound, and she tried to catch herself. She lost her balance and her shoulder collided with the stone floor. Someone pulled her up into a sitting position. She raised her head and tried to look under the blindfold, but it was no use. Even though the room wasn’t cold, she was shaking all over.
There was a faint smell of burnt oil, but she didn’t know whether the lamps were lit or not. A heavy door closed behind her. The room went completely quiet, but she knew she wasn’t alone. She could feel people staring at her.
“How did you get here?”
Hirka turned her head toward the woman’s severe voice. “I was brought here by the guardsmen. Could I get something to drink?”
“Here to Ym! How did you get here, child of Odin?”
“Uh … I don’t know. I think I was born here.”
“Liar!” The hostile voice of a man. Another jab in the back. Hirka gasped.
“It’s not a lie! I’ve always been here.”
“Who are you working with?”
“Working with? I … I’m alone. I’m not working with anyone. I—”
“Ravnhov? Are you collaborating with Ravnhov?”
“No! What would I—”
It was the first thing Hirka said that felt untrue. She was sitting here in front of councillors, blindfolded, with a sword to her back. She only had one choice, and it was to be honest. She had nothing to lose in telling them everything she knew. It was barely anything, anyway. But if they had seen her by Eirik’s bed, promising to help, they wouldn’t have thought it was barely anything.
“How do you know about the stone doors?”
“Stone doors?”
“The blind paths! The gates! How do you use them?”
It was as if she didn’t speak or understand her own language anymore. Nobody was listening to her. “I don’t use them. I don’t know how. I had no idea—”
“Then who let you in? How long ago was it?”
“I’ve been here my whole life!”
Hirka’s entire body sagged. She just wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear inside herself. Escape. Maybe she could ask them to get Ilume. Ilume could explain.
“I’ve been here my whole life. Father found me. He didn’t know—”
“Girl, we know you tried to flee from the Rite. Why? Why did you not want the Seer’s protection against the blind? Is it because you have no reason to fear them? Because you’re one of them?”
“I’ve never even seen one! I didn’t even know the blind were real. I thought—”
“Why did you want to shun the Rite?”
Another jab in the back. Hirka clenched her teeth. She was completely helpless. No answer she provided could satisfy them. A new realization flooded through her like poison in her veins. A certainty that made everything worse.
The Council feared the blind as much as everyone else. All they wanted was a simple explanation, and she was it. The world’s most powerful men and women had lost control. A chill ran down her spine as the truth sunk in. The Council was without counsel.
“I don’t know anything. I haven’t done anything. I’m … nobody.”
“Then why did you burn down your own home and disappear? Why did you want to shun the Rite?”
Hirka tried to laugh, but the sound got stuck in her throat. “If you had just found out that you weren’t from this world, that you were like me, would you have come?”
It was quiet for a moment. Someone whispered from her right, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Was she surrounded?
“Have you spread the rot?”
Hirka turned her head toward the voice. Images of Rime entered her mind unbidden. Wolf eyes. The warmth from the Might. His husky voice. How he looked strong, even when he was doing nothing more than simply standing there.
“I’ve never been with anyone,” she answered quietly, hearing sorrow in her own voice.
And nor can I ever be.
“You are unearthed, but you had traces of the Might in you. Why?”
Hirka stopped breathing for a moment. If she answered truthfully, Rime would have to face the consequences. She fumbled for another answer.
“I don’t know. Maybe from the Seer?”
A loud snort came from somewhere in front of her.
“I can’t bind! I swear!”
“I’ll give you one more chance. It’s the last one you’ll get, girl.”
Calm, level words. As if he was talking about everyday things. As if her life didn’t depend on it. She wished she could see. The voice came closer. He leaned forward.
“Why did you not want to attend the Rite?”
“Because I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of all of you! I was scared of you. I couldn’t bind, and I had just found out that I was … that I … Father said it could cost me my life. That Kolkagga would come after me. I was scared!”
“Kolkagga? Where have you heard such tales, embling?”
Hirka straightened up.
“They’re not tales! I’ve seen them! I saw them in Ravnhov!”
The moment she said it, she realized her mistake. Her life lay in the Council’s and the Seer’s hands, and she had just said that she had been to the place they feared most, and seen something they had worked for centuries to keep in the shadows. She could have bitten off her own tongue.
It was quiet. Scarily quiet. Hirka turned in every direction in the hope of hearing something, but nobody said a word. Then someone started to whisper. Voices rose. Discussions. She could hear fragments of words. Eirik. The gathering in Ravnhov. Then suddenly it went quiet again, as if someone had said “stop.”
“It was you.”
Hirka started. The voice came from above. Someone stood bent over her. She raised her face, but still there was only darkness. “It was you. On the roof in Ravnhov. You’re the reason Eirik’s still alive. You’re a traitor!”
Eirik’s alive!
The voice came right up to her face.
“Did you know that Eirik of Ravnhov has turned his back on the Seer? That he worships false gods? The gods of the blind from before the war? Did you know that he denies people protection against the blind?”
“People do what they want. He’s no traitor!”
Another jab in the back. Deeper. The pain radiated through her body. Hirka screamed. Her back was hot and wet with blood.
“You’re tailless and unearthed! You burned down your own home and tried to flee from the Seer. You’re in league with Ravnhov, and people who lived near you testify to your disrepute. You’ve been trading in illegal drugs for many years. Did you kill your father?”
Hirka couldn’t cope any longer. There was no use explaining. She had to ask them to find Ilume. It was her only hope. “Get Ilume-madra. Please. I’m a perfectly normal girl. I’m no one important. Get Ilume-madra! She’ll explain.”
It was quiet for a moment. Then a familiar voice came from her left.
“I’m already here.”
Hirka screamed. Her despair gave way to a rage she didn’t think was possible. People mean danger. People have always meant danger, Father whispered from Slokna and she screamed even louder. Someone grabbed her and she kicked out. Thrashed like the fish on the quayside. Tugged at her bindings, but they wouldn’t come loose. Bit someone. She didn’t know who. Didn’t care, eith
er. She was going to scream until they understood. Until everyone understood.
THE FINAL STRAW
Rime ran through Eisvaldr. No one batted an eyelid, not today. Servants stepped aside in the corridors and bowed until he had passed. He had to find Ilume before the Council reconvened. He had to look her in the eyes. Reassure himself that she hadn’t completely lost her mind. Not even Ilume could sentence a child to death in the name of the Seer.
He cut through the gardens on the west side. Polished stones reflected colors from various flowers brought from all over the world. Conifers stood in perfectly tended clusters. If an uninvited shoot suddenly reared its head in these gardens, it was immediately torn out by its roots. Eisvaldr didn’t tolerate anything unplanned.
That had become frighteningly clear today. Rime had heard things he wasn’t supposed to hear, and his heart beat faster the more he thought about it. The twelve had sentenced Hirka to death in the Seer’s absence. Where was He? Why hadn’t He stopped this madness? They had to know she couldn’t have helped the blind into Ym. They had to! The very notion was ridiculous and did nothing more than make the Council look desperate.
And that was what made Rime’s blood boil. They did know. But they were doing it anyway. To shock Ravnhov. To appease the baying mobs. To maintain the illusion of control. And they were doing it without consulting the Seer they supposedly served.
And then there were Leivlugn’s cryptic words.
What you’re all failing to consider is whether we ought to cancel the Rite entirely under such circumstances. We might turn out to have greater need of binders than ever before.
Meaningless utterances. Strong binders were rare, but they were all selected during the Rite to be schooled in Eisvaldr—along with binders who weren’t nearly so strong, but who had bought their way in.
Urd had actually fought for Hirka’s life while Rime was under the table. His sudden benevolence was suspicious at best. Urd didn’t fight for anyone other than himself—that much Rime knew. He had something to gain from keeping Hirka alive. But what? The man’s megalomania had already worsened the conflict with Ravnhov. Why curb it now? Rime intended to find out.
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