The Girl the Sea Gave Back

by Adrienne Young

  “So, you’ve switched sides because of what the runes told you?”

  “I left the Svell because I wasn’t supposed to be there. I’m supposed to be here.” The tears in her eyes glimmered in the dark. “I didn’t know when I read the runes that the Svell would move against the Nādhir. I didn’t know any of this would happen.”

  “But it did.”

  “I know.” She breathed through the hitch in her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said again, her knuckles going white as her hands tangled together.

  Behind her, the forest was empty. As soon as the Svell knew their Truthtongue was gone, someone would likely come looking. But by then, battle would have begun.

  I stared down into the black water below, watching the water curl white before it hit the rocks and was swept back out into the sea. I had no interest in the stones or the rendering of the future. But she’d been with the Svell. She’d seen them fight and knew their numbers. I wasn’t stupid enough to not accept her help.

  But buried beneath those thoughts was another one that I didn’t want to admit to. I didn’t want to tell her to go. Now that she was here, I didn’t want her to leave.

  Her finger traced the line of the cut through the stalk of yarrow on her hand and I realized that she was waiting for my answer. She stood so still that it looked as if she wasn’t even breathing.

  Tova wasn’t only trying to save me. She was trying to save herself.

  “I can cast the stones for the Nādhir. I can—”

  “No.” I didn’t let her finish.

  Her brow pulled, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at me. “You don’t want to know?”

  “No.” I turned into the wind, not waiting for her to follow. “If I’m going to fight, I need to believe that we can win.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  TOVA

  The light of the sun was still buried deep behind the horizon when Hylli came into view.

  I followed Halvard up the path, my eyes on his back as he walked. He was stripped of his armor, the tunic stretched over his broad shoulders and his hair pulled back into a knot at the nape of his neck. There was a moment on the cliff when I thought he would turn me away, but the same feeling that had flooded me in Utan was now leading me into Hylli.

  The shore that hugged the land looked a bit like the ones outside of Liera, but there was something different about this place. The mountain rose up before the fjord as if the gods were perched there, watching over the little village.

  It was beautiful. It was a home.

  I’d only heard a few stories about the gods of the Nādhir. I’d heard even less about the god of my own people, Naðr. But there were some things that were true about every god, making them all feel familiar. And Hylli felt that way. Like a place I’d somehow forgotten.

  “I want to see the Kyrr who was with you in Utan,” I said, quickening my steps to keep up with him.

  “He’s not here.”

  I stopped beneath the gate. “What?”

  “He’s gone.” He finally turned to face me. “How do you know him?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. And if he was gone, I would probably never know. I looked up to a string of bones hung from the beam set onto the posts. They swung gently in the wind overhead. “Who was that?”

  Halvard stood in the middle of the path; his eyes lifted to the arch before they fell back down to me. “The last people who tried to take this place from us.”

  The Herja.

  He walked into the fog and I followed, the shape of houses surfacing to my left and right before Halvard stopped at a wood plank door that was windblown gray. He opened the door and disappeared inside, where the sound of voices was suddenly cut short.

  Firelight spilled onto the ground before me and the smell of herbs rolled out into the night air. I stepped over the threshold carefully, looking around the large house. Two men worked over a pile of leathers at the table and Halvard picked up an armor vest from a trunk, dropping it over his tunic.

  It wasn’t until one of the men looked up that his hands stilled, his face half-lit by the fire. His attention went to the bow slung over my shoulder. “Who’s this?” His blue eyes traced over my marks before they found my face.

  “Her name is Tova.”

  “Are you…?” His stare was more curious than fearful.

  “She’s Kyrr,” Halvard answered, working at the clasps of his vest.

  The two men looked at one another before the fair-haired one smiled and I realized that he hadn’t told them about me. Or what I’d done. If he had, they would have had their swords drawn already.

  A knock sounded at the door and I pressed myself to the wall as Halvard reached for the latch. “You want to help us? This is your chance.”

  The door swung open again and a tall, broad man with an unruly black beard stood in the mist with a few others, waiting. “Ready?” But his face changed when he saw me, his eyes widening.

  “She’s come from the Svell camp.” Halvard tipped his chin in my direction for me to follow and we fell into step with the bodies moving quietly in the dark. “Call them up, Latham.”

  The black-bearded man signaled one of the others walking beside him and he disappeared before we came through the doors of the ritual house. The door slammed closed behind us and the warmth of the altar fire wound itself around me, but I was still too cold to feel it.

  They gathered around a table where a map was unrolled before them, their voices all bleeding together over the sound of the fire. I found a place in the shadowed corner, my numb hands clasped before me.

  “Tova.” Halvard found me over the heads of the others and I stepped forward, swallowing hard. “How many Svell are camped in the eastern valley?” The others quieted as Halvard spoke and I froze as I felt the weight of their stares. They stepped to either side of the table, making room for me.

  “Seven hundred and sixty,” I answered, repeating the number I’d heard Siv report to Vigdis.

  “Here?” Halvard pointed to a place on the map, at the edge of the forest.

  “Not that close to the water.” I set my hand on his and I felt him stiffen under my touch as I moved his finger north. “But they’ll come from the south.”

  He pulled his hand from beneath mine before his fist clenched at his side.

  The one he’d called Latham leaned into the table. “Forcing them to the bottomland will make it harder for them to push through.”

  “It will make it harder for both of us,” Halvard answered.

  I arched an eyebrow, watching every village leader look to Halvard as he spoke. As if he was one of them.

  “Were you there when they attacked in Utan?” His attention returned to me.

  I stiffened, not wanting to remember it. I wanted to erase that night from my mind the way everything else had been. I gave a single nod. “I was.”

  “What did they do?”

  “I…” I stammered, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what they’d think.

  This is your chance.

  Halvard’s words repeated in my mind.

  “They stormed the village. Their warriors took down every Nādhir before they set it all on fire.”

  I watched Halvard flinch against the words, though he concealed it well. “How did they set it on fire?”

  “Pitch arrows,” I answered. I could still hear the whistle of them flying through the dark.

  He looked back to the map, thinking.

  Latham nodded in reply. “What do you want to do?”

  My gaze tightened at the question, studying them. Latham looked up at Halvard, patiently waiting for his answer, the way Siv did with Vigdis.

  I swallowed hard. He wasn’t just one of them. He was leading them.

  “Here.” Halvard pointed to a dense area of forest between the fjord and the valley. “If we can keep them behind the tree line until at least half of them are dead, we will have a chance. Their arrows won’t be able to reach the village from there.” His hand slid to the open clear
ing before Hylli. “We’ll keep a quarter of our warriors waiting here. The rest, to the first line in the forest.”

  They considered, a heavy quiet falling over the ritual house.

  “What do you think?” he asked, searching their faces.

  “Good.” Latham nodded and the others followed. “It’s good.”

  But there was no good plan to be made. The options were few. Keeping the fight in the forest was the best they had.

  The sound of a bell rang out in the village, the sharp clang echoing around us and without pause, they moved as one toward the doors.

  Halvard picked his axe up off the map, taking my arm and pulling me with him.

  “You’re chieftain,” I said, lowly.

  He let me go, fitting the axe back into its sheath. “Today I am.”

  “Why won’t you let me cast the stones? I can help. I can—”

  At that, he turned, looking down at me as the others filed out. I stilled when I felt the brush of his breath on my skin, trying not to lean into his warmth.

  “I told you. I don’t want to know. I trust the gods.” His eyes ran over my face for a long moment, his jaw clenching. “Thank you for your help.” He turned to the door. “Stay north and you should miss them.”

  “What?” I took hold of his vest before he stepped outside. “I’m going with you.”

  “Going with us?”

  “I told you. I want to help.”

  “You did. Now go home.”

  “I don’t have a home.” My fingers dropped from the bronze clasps at his side.

  His lips parted on a long breath, his gaze narrowing. “Can you fight?”

  “I can shoot.” I smiled, hooking my fingers into the bowstring stretched across my chest.

  His eyes jumped back and forth on mine. “You know we’re probably all going to die, don’t you?”

  I reached around him, taking the knife from the back of his belt. “I told you. You don’t die today.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, watching as I cut away the length of my skirts. The bell sounded again and I dropped the torn linen to the floor. I handed him the knife, and the corner of his mouth lifted, but he turned before I could see him smile.

  I ran to keep up with him in the flood of warriors all headed for the gate. We reached the back of the line and I tightened the straps of the quiver and started up the hill after him. A hand lifted into the air ahead as we made it to the trees, and I saw the fair-haired man from the house waving from the front of the line. Halvard reached for him, catching his arm and taking hold of my wrist, pulling me with him as he pushed through the tightly packed bodies.

  When we broke through the line, we were standing at the top of the hill, shoulder to shoulder with the others. A blonde woman and a red-haired woman stood beside them, both casting sharp glares at me.

  “What’s she doing here?” A man with shorn hair looked down at me with a crooked smile. It took a moment to recognize him as one of the men who’d been with Halvard in Utan.

  “It’s a long story,” Halvard muttered, pulling his sword free.

  “They aren’t afraid of me.” I spoke lowly beside him.

  “Who?”

  “All of them. Why aren’t they afraid of me?”

  His blue eyes were the same color as ice in the morning light. “Why would they be afraid of you?”

  “Halvard!” Latham walked the line of warriors spread through the forest and Halvard signaled him with a whistle. Latham stopped before him, setting one hand on Halvard’s shoulder. “On your signal.”

  Halvard let him go and Latham left us, finding his place down the line. We stood at the front before hundreds of warriors at our backs and spread to our left and right. Halvard’s brothers both took him into their arms and kissed him before the blonde woman took hold of his armor, checking it again.

  When I looked around us, every face was looking to Halvard, waiting. He took a breath before he pulled his axe free and whistled out into the forest, the sound echoing in the trees. A silence fell over the clansmen until there was only the sound of the cold, crashing waves that encircled Hylli below. I tried not to think about what I was doing, walking into battle alongside strangers to fight the Svell. But it suddenly seemed as if it had all led to this, fate twisting and turning since that day on the beach with Jorrund. To this exact moment in time, my feet planted beside Halvard’s.

  The line suddenly moved forward, one step at a time, and my hand tightened around the bowstring slung across my chest, my heart racing. The trees spread out in every direction and we wove around them like a flood of water, moving through the forest as the brightening light pushed the mist through the trees ahead of us.

  Halvard walked beside me, every muscle wound tight around every bone, his weapons heavy at his sides. Behind us, Hylli lay peacefully by the calm sea, but the storm was only minutes from breaking. The sharp taste of it was thick in the air.

  I held on to my bow so tightly that the skin on my fingers threatened to break against it and when Halvard whistled again, the line abruptly stopped, every sound erased. He reached into his tunic, pulling a small stone from beneath his armor vest, and his thumb rubbed over its surface before he kissed it and whispered something I couldn’t hear. The sound was echoed behind me, the soft, reverberating voices of the Nādhir murmuring prayers to their gods.

  My face lifted to the darkening clouds and the first cold drop of rain hit my cheek. I didn’t know any gods to ask for help. Even if I did, I doubted they’d come. It was the Spinners I knew, and they weren’t protectors. They didn’t care about the spider walking on the web of fate, but they had given me a second chance. A chance to make things right.

  Instead, I prayed to the woman in my vision. I closed my eyes and conjured her. Delicate hands in the firelight and the hum of a song. Silver waters and the great statues of the headlands like giants in the fog.

  The prayers faded and I opened my eyes to see shadows appearing ahead. The storm growing in the sky above us suddenly seemed to be thundering inside my chest. It snatched the breath from my lungs as a sharp sting lit there, like the tip of a knife carving the heart from between my ribs.

  The Svell stretched out in the trees ahead, a never-ending line of warriors to the right and left. Their leathers blended with the colors of the forest until they were almost invisible, but the unsettled surprise was written on their faces. They hadn’t expected to meet the Nādhir this deep in the bottomlands. Even if they made it to Hylli eventually, they’d do it with fewer warriors. They’d return to Svell territory dragging their dead behind them.

  I blinked when a face I knew appeared among the others and I clenched my teeth, the sting of heat burning behind my eyes. In the distance, the Tala’s gaze was fixed on me.

  Jorrund’s face twisted in fury, his teeth clenched so tightly they looked as if they may break in his mouth. Vigdis stood broad-shouldered beside him and I knew what he was thinking. That he should have killed me when Vera died. That he should have let me burn when Bekan fell in the glade. Every drop of blood spilled from here to Liera was the sea I was cursed to drown in. Somehow, Vigdis had known it. He knew that I’d bring death since the moment he first laid eyes on me.

  And he was right.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  HALVARD

  The signal moved through the wind like thread through a needle as the Svell came into view.

  The front line of their warriors stretched as long as ours, but there were rows upon rows of them waiting to press forward, toward the slope that led down to the village. Vigdis stood at its center before the others, his hair picked up by the wind, and even from this distance I could see that the blade clutched in his hand was the jeweled sword that Bekan had brought to the glade as the offering of reparation. It was the weapon that took Espen’s life. The amber stone at its hilt almost seemed to glow in the palm of his hand.

  I looked to Fiske and he gave me a tight nod before he slid his own sword free. I’d never seen him in battl
e. I’d only ever heard the stories. But looking into the face of my brother, it was as if a different person had come alive behind his eyes.

  “I’m with you, brother.” His deep voice carried the words in the silence and they were the only ones I needed. With Iri, Fiske, Eelyn, and Mýra at my side, I was suddenly unafraid.

  Tova set her dark eyes on the Svell army. The Tala I’d seen her with in the glade stood beside Vigdis in the distance, his face full of horror at the sight of her. But she looked back at him with no expression, the bow light in her hands.

  Their warriors came to a stop and Vigdis looked to the trees around us, studying the space between the two multitudes. In more than one way, meeting them in the forest gave us a disadvantage, but if fate was on our side like Tova said it was, it would be the only way to win. From the look of Vigdis, he was suspicious of the move.

  I kneeled down, taking a handful of cool, damp soil into my hand and crushing it between my fingers, the feel of the earth centering me. I breathed, summoning the sight of Hylli at sunset to the front of my mind. The smell of the sea and the golden light. The sound of the water against the hull of the boat and the shells chiming in the windows. I’d been born on the mountain but I’d become a man on the fjord. Its waters flowed through my veins.

  I whistled again as I stood, letting the sound ring out, and drew a last steady breath. It was the end, and I couldn’t help but think it felt right. I let the weight of my sword pull me back to the battlefield and my gaze settled on Vigdis before I tipped my head back and screamed.

  The rush of wind slid past me as I took off running and the war cries of my clansmen threw me forward. My feet sank into the soft ground as we wove through the trees, the Svell racing across the forest toward us. And then there was a moment of silence. A space splintered between beats of my heart, before every raging thing collided and the earth underfoot was eaten up with war.

  Vigdis’ towering frame ran straight for me at the front, his teeth shining as he roared. My steps hit the ground faster and I didn’t slow until the glimmer of light on steel made me sink low. An axe flew over my head, catching a Nādhir woman behind me, and she was knocked from her feet, hitting the ground hard. I stood just in time to catch the man who’d thrown it with my blade, dropping him with one strike before I jumped over him. I searched the haze for Vigdis as bodies flooded around me. But he was gone, lost in the sea of battle ahead.