by Quinn Loftis
“Now you’re asking the right questions,” Assy said.
Questions? Right, suspicious. I should be asking Brant and Clay questions. Assy sighed but ignored her as I once again focused on my surprise guests.
“You said you came here to rescue me,” I said. “Why would I need to be rescued from a place I love to be?”
“Dayna, you were brought here against your will,” Brant said. His hands were fisted at his sides, as if he were trying to keep from grabbing me. “You’ve never been here before in your life, and you don’t belong here. Whatever you’re feeling, it isn’t real. Think about it. Do you actually like Gisele?”
“No, of course not.” I thought about the things I’d read in her diary, feeling my stomach roll. “She’s evil.”
“Then why in the hell would you want to stay with an evil woman?” he asked.
Why did I want to stay with Gisele? I had always known my own mind. Always made my own decisions based on what I thought was important. Sometimes my parents intervened, and sometimes they let me be. Never in my life had I let someone else make decisions for me. The idea Gisele was able to somehow force my compliance and make me enjoy her behavior, that was downright revolting. And it angered me he would imply that I didn’t recognize reality.
“At this exact moment, I do not have an answer for why I want to stay. My head is beginning to hurt, and thinking makes it hurt worse. And I know what reality is,” I practically spat. “There’s no way I am being forced against my will. Or do you not remember how strong-willed I am?”
His lips form a crooked smile. “Oh, I remember. Vividly.” The smile faded as he took another step toward me. Once he was close enough I was able to catch a whiff of his smell, I nearly closed my eyes just to soak it in. I remembered his scent—how the first time I’d smelled him was when he’d held me in his arms after having effortlessly disarmed me.
“You smell good,” I said. I should have been embarrassed, but I couldn’t muster up the energy. I was too busy trying to figure out why I’d want to stay in this cottage when Brant was out there in the world. A great idea hit me. “You could stay with me,” I blurted.
His eyes widened. “Stay with you?”
I nodded, “Yeah, here. With me, Gisele, and Assy.” Then I’d have my best friend and the man who has stolen my heart with me in my favorite place in the world.
“Could you stop saying and thinking that?” Assy asked. “You’re just reinforcing the lie.”
“What about Allete? Your parents?” Brant asked. “What about your life and plans? You’re wanted and needed by people who love you, Dayna. Do you really want to throw that away?”
His words struck a chord in my heart. Suddenly, my head felt fuzzy—that was really the only way I could describe it—as I tried to think about my sister. The pain in my head became a throbbing ache. “What about them? Plans change. Life changes like the weather. We never really know from day to day what is in store for us.” My words sounded both true and hollow at the same time.
Brant’s eyes narrowed, his lips drawing tight across his face. “Do you remember what happened to Allete? To Hilda? Do yen have any memory of anything before being in this place?”
“Of course I remember. I remembered you and Clay, didn’t I? I remember I usually want to kick you in your family jewels rather than listen to you bark orders.” How’s that for remembering, Mr. Huge Warrior Man, I thought.
“I really think at this point, you should just stop talking,” Assy said.
Whirling on the rat, I bared my teeth at her like I was a feral animal. “I will not stop talking. You stop talking. Until you have anything helpful to say.”
“Dayna,” Brant yelled, making me jump and whip around. “Please try to think about what you really want in life. Think about when you were a child. Think about all the dreams you had. Think about your sisters, all the fun you had. Think about when you saw me for the first time. Remember the first time I told you that you would be mine one day. I told you that you were the one my soul could not live without. You agreed to be mine if I would wait for you and not bed any other women. You said if I so much as looked at another woman, you would cut my eyes out and feed them to the fish. Remember for me, Little Princess. Remember our promises to one another.”
I did remember those things. I remembered my feelings for Brant. I’d thought about him while I’d been in this cottage. Why wouldn’t I want to go with him? Why couldn’t I remember exactly where Allete was? And Hilda, did I know what had happened to her? I felt like I’d known these things a few days ago, yet now it was just gone.
For some reason, I had the urge to smack myself in the head in hopes it would clear the fog that seemed to be filling my brain. I actually did give my head a little shake. It made the pain worse. Still, the thoughts about Allete and Hilda were just out of my reach. I knew who they were. I knew I cared about them. But if I tried to grasp onto anything more, it was like grabbing a handful of smoke and watching it slip through the cracks between my fingers.
In my gut, I felt like something big had happened. Why wasn’t Allete here? I’d known immediately when Brant and Clay appeared that my sister wasn’t with them, but why? I gasped as a sharp stabbing sensation pierced my mind. For a brief second, I saw Hilda’s blank stare.
“Something bad happened…” I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question. I was on the verge of panic. How in the holy hell could I forget my sister, or at least what happened to her? How could I forget Hilda dying? I was certain there had been no life in the blank stare I’d seen.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Clay offered as he motioned to a stool. It was the one upon which I usually sat when Gisele cut up her rodents and birds.
I stepped away from Brant and reached over, pulling the stool toward me. Once I was perched on the seat, Brant moved close again and stared at me so intently it made me want to squirm. He was so tall I had to tilt my head back to look up at him.
“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I need you to think for me. Has Gisele done anything to you? Given you anything?”
“The nasty drink,” Assy said. “Tell him about the nasty drink.”
“She’s given me something to drink,” I said. “I think I like it…but, at the same time, it’s disgusting.”
Brant frowned. “You like it, but it’s disgusting?”
I shrugged. “Similar to how I like you, but you can be disgusting.”
That got a laugh out of the stoic Captain Clay.
Brant smirked. “How do you know I can be disgusting? We haven’t known each other that long.”
I raised a brow. Holding up a hand, I started ticking things off. I raised one finger, “You’re male.” I raised a second finger. “You’re a warrior.” I raised a third finger. “You’re male.”
“You said I’m male twice,” Brant said, his voice smug.
“That’s because you’re the size of two men,” I said.
“Fine, I’ll give you that one,” he grumbled. “Now that we’ve established you like me, how about you come with me so you can learn more about me?” He rested his hand on the table and leaned in closer, so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. “Maybe grow to love me?” The smugness was gone. In its place was a pleading expression I’d never have expected to see on the huge warrior.
I felt my chest get tight as I met his gaze. His eyes were tender, but also held a fierce determination. “Brant, I, this is, I mean, the rat and…” I stuttered like a child who had been caught red-handed in Cook’s fresh-baked pies. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said finally, feeling myself deflate. Because something was definitely wrong.
“Finally,” Assy shouted.
I leaned a little closer to her. “Do you really talk?”
“No, it’s not the rat you hear, Dayna. I’m your soul. I’m the piece of you that’s tucked away deep inside.”
“Dayna, we really need to be—”
I held up my hand, still starin
g at the rat for some reason, and shook it at Brant. “Shh… shh… shh. I’m having an enlightened moment here.” If he said anything else, I didn’t hear it. I was too focused on the voice in my mind that claimed to be my soul.
“I’m the piece of you that fights for the good in this world. The part of you that longs for the light and runs from anything that threatens to take that light away. I’m the part that tries to pull you back when you’ve chosen darkness or innocently stumbled into it.”
I sat there, my eyes glued to a rat—who apparently hadn’t been talking to me for over a week—and I felt something shift inside of me. Suddenly, I felt a white-hot pain shoot through my head. Hands flying up to either side of my face, I snap my eyes closed, my face scrunched up from the agony. “Bloody hell,” I screamed. Then, the same feeling ripped through my chest. I slammed my hand over my heart as if that would somehow push the affliction out.
“Dayna!” Brant’s voice sounded as if it were coming from far away, and I felt him give me a little shake. “What is it? What hurts?”
“I would wager a guess her head feels like it’s going to split open and her chest like it might implode. But that’s just a guess.” Gisele’s voice penetrated through my torment. I opened my eyes to find her standing in the doorway to the cottage. Captain Clay had pulled his sword, and Brant brandished a giant hammer. Both faced the witch who simply smiled as if they weren’t wielding deadly weapons.
“The king of England demands you release his daughter,” Clay said. His voice didn’t waver, nor did his hard glare.
“Did you ask the princess if she wanted to leave?” Gisele challenged. “Because she’s been giving me the impression she really enjoys being here.”
“She’s only saying that because you’ve done something to her.” Brant’s booming voice filled the hut.
“You’ve been giving me a drink, Gisele,” I said through gritted teeth, trying to stay focused on what was going on. I feared I was going to pass out from the anguish going on inside of my body. “What does it do?”
Chuckling, she gave me a little wave as she said, “That’s nothing—just a little potion to make you feel better. Nobody likes to listen to someone moan and groan all the time, Princess. It’s really an unattractive quality.” Sighing, she folded her arms in front of her. “I’ll make you a deal, boys. If you can get her to leave with you, then you can have her.”
Brant glanced at me, his face hard as stone. “Dayna, I need you to come with me.”
I started to stand.
“Dayna, you love sitting on that stool. You really don’t want to get up from it. Right?”
My butt hit the stool so hard it nearly took my breath away. “Yes, of course. I love this stool.”
“No, you don’t. Fight her, Dayna. You have to recognize the darkness to fight it. She masks her lies with your compliance, but everything she says is a lie,” my soul said fiercely.
The reality was I didn’t want to stay on the stool. Who in their right mind would pick a hard stool as a place they loved to sit? No one. Lies. All lies. Who would pick a cottage in the middle of who knew where, with an evil witch and all her witchy items as their favorite place in the entire world? No. One.
“Oh, my gods,” I said slowly as these realizations finally hit me like a smack to the face I apparently needed. “I’ve been duped. I have been made a puppet. A puppet who had a damn rat as a best friend, and I believed it could talk!” I was screeching at this point. It was not my finest moment.
“Dayna, despair later, escape now,” Brant said with incredible calmness I did not feel.
I tried to stand up again, but it felt as though there were hands pushing down on my shoulders, trying to force me to stay seated. The pain in my head increased, and my heart beat so hard I feared it might come straight through my chest. “I do not love this stool,” I bit out. “I do not love this cottage. I do not want to stay.” I was panting like a racehorse as I forced the truths out of my mouth, despite the fact I was sure it was killing me to speak them somehow.
“What’s happening to her?” Brant growled. I felt his finger stroke across my cheek, and I met his eyes.
“Oh, I guess I forgot to mention if she attempts to fight my will, her mind and her soul will separate,” Gisele said. “They will be ripped apart because her soul holds her heart’s desires. Her mind, however, is able to be swayed under the right circumstances.”
“How can her soul be separated from her mind?” Clay asked.
She rolled her eyes as if she thought it was ridiculous she had to explain it. “She dies. Bye, bye, Princess. No more witty comebacks and rat conversations. It really won’t be a loss for me, other than the fact she has gotten good at dealing with my dead rabbits. But that’s beside the point. I would have wound up using her blood eventually so now, later, whenever. It really matters not.” Her words were so flippant, as though she wasn’t talking about my bloody life.
“But that’s not true, is it?” Brant said in a dark voice as he tore his eyes from mine and glared at Gisele. “You need Dayna alive. We heard your plans for her. You need her to have something to bargain with Clan Hakon for some book you want.”
Gisele tried to hide her reaction to Brant’s words, but I saw it—the little tick in her cheek and the slight narrowing of her eyes. He’d called her bluff.
My head was still screaming, and it was getting difficult to breathe from the pain in my chest. I tried hard to stay conscious, but I feared I was going to pass out at any moment.
“You’re done, Gisele,” Clay said. “You’ve lost. Just let us take Dayna, and we will ask the king to grant you a quick death.”
Laughing, Gisele threw her head back. “Done? Oh, stupid man, I am only just getting started.” She darted forward, grabbed a tall jar of amber liquid, and threw it on the ground, shattering the glass. The liquid whooshed out, but it quickly turned into a vaporous fog that began filling the room around us.
Clay lunged for her, but his movements were uncoordinated and sloppy. I watched him begin to fall, then noticed Brant, too, was struggling to stay upright. The last thing I saw before my own eyes closed was Brant hitting the ground, his body still as death.
“One should never underestimate the ability of a witch to continue to exist. Their ability to adapt and survive, I am learning, is as remarkable as it is disturbing.”
* * *
~Diary of Allete Auvray
* * *
By the time we made it back to the clan village, the rest of the shieldmaidens were singing a bawdy song about victory in battle and walking arm in arm. Within minutes of our arrival, someone had produced several horns of ale that were being passed back and forth amongst them. Judging by their behavior, an outsider might’ve thought they’d been drinking since early that morning. But they were simply drunk on bloodlust and the adrenaline surges of battle. I had to admit I was a little giddy myself.
I made a beeline for mine and Torben hut. I needed to recuperate and regain the strength I’d lost when healing Lakin. A loud horn blared, and I stopped in my tracks. I turned to Freya. “What is that?”
“It means there’s someone at the beach,” she said, then changed directions.
Blowing out a deep breath, I jogged after her and the other women. Amund and Kjell were beside me. In a matter of seconds, we crested the hill. I could see the beach spread out below me. Two dark dots on the water moved toward our beach. I held my hand over my eyes to shield it from the sun. The ships were of a familiar design. Sure enough, I saw my father’s banners furling along behind each vessel.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods,” I muttered, watching them bringing the ships in closer. I stood there for a few minutes, Torben’s two trusted warriors on either side me, neither speaking, for which I was grateful. My father and his army had arrived. Torben had been able to get the three clans as allies to join us in the fight as well. Now we just needed Dayna back. I began to feel that maybe—just maybe—this was all going to work out. Maybe Hil
da wasn’t crazy, and her prophecy was actually going to come fruition. Maybe there would be peace for Clan Hakon. That all sounded a little too good to be true. But it was better than considering the alternative.
“Ready to go down?” Amund asked.
I nodded, then started down the hill. By the time we reached the shore, my father and his men had already made it onto the beach. I broke into a run when I saw him. “Father!” I practically bowled him over, leaping into his outstretched arms. His arms wrapped around me, and I could smell his familiar scent beneath the salty ocean air.
“Are you all right,” he asked against my hair. He held me tightly.
I nodded, but I didn’t speak. At least not at first. I couldn’t. I was too choked up as I recalled my throat being slit by a dark witch and thinking I’d never see my family again. But Hilda had healed me. She had sacrificed herself for me. Because of that, I had this moment with my father.
When we finally disentangled from our embrace, he examined me from head to foot, obviously cataloging I indeed had all my limbs and was not bleeding to death. I was dirty and probably smelly, considering I’d just come back from a bloody skirmish.
“How are you? Mother, Lizzy, and Lidia?” I asked in quick succession.
“Slow down, child.”
It nearly made me laugh when he called me a child. Though it had been a mere couple of months since Magnus had kidnapped me from the castle, I felt as if I’d aged twenty years in that time. I supposed stress and witnessing death would do that to a person.
“They are all well, aside from worrying about you. When Brant arrived and brought news of you, your mother was finally able to rest easy again. Where is Dayna?” he asked, gazing past me to see if she was somewhere among those gathered on the beach.
I could see him register the confusion on my face. “Brant didn’t tell you?” I asked slowly.
He frowned. “Tell me what? Brant isn’t even with me.”
