Gerrie is gone.I got out.
Gerrie is gone.I got out.
Solveig’s mind screeched to a halt, and she let out a scream that rattled the nearby mountains.
TheprinceandLaeknirtried to convince Solveig to get her shoulder examined immediately, but she would have none of it. She gritted her teeth through the pain as she hurried to her tent and wrote a furious letter to the queens demanding more details.
Leave it to her mothers to give no explanation when they knew how important Gerrie was to her. Was she missing or dead? When? How? So many questions would be left unanswered until she received their reply.
After she finished writing what could only be described as a lengthy interrogation, Laeknir insisted that she come back to the infirmary, offering to send the letter for her. He grumbled something about needing the extra hands and what use was she to him if she was whining all day. That made Solveig smile for a moment.
Then she remembered Gerrie was gone and had no choice but to acquiesce given that the pain was now impeding her ability to think clearly.
Gerrie is gone.
As pain shot through her shoulder and down her arm, it was the only thought in Solveig’s mind. Laeknir dug his fingers into her wound, pulling out shards of the black arrow tip, which were preventing her from healing. Much like her magic, her grief was a living thing.
It moved painfully through her, shocking her when she least expected it.
The prince had left to write to his parents, confirming that he would travel to Asgard with Solveig. There may or may not have been some chiding about asking mommy and daddy for permission, which may have elicited a scowl from the prince.
Not wanting him to know how much his expression endeared him to her, she told him his face was reminiscent of a female in the throes of giving birth. He’d turned away with an even deeper scowl, his hand gripping his sword tightly like he was tempted to stab her with it.
His restraint was admirable.
“Are you trying to make this more difficult for me?” Laeknir barked. Solveig had been rising from her seat as her tension grew.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, trying to take a deep breath to relax.
“I’m coming with you,” Laeknir stated.
“Absolutely not. They need you here.”
Laeknir let out a noise that could only be described as a bird squawk. If that bird was a centuries-old witch doctor.
“Eloquent as always, Laeknir,” Solveig teased, hissing with pain.
“You shouldn’t make this journey alone with those Fae still here.” He lowered his voice so the wounded Fae in the tent couldn’t hear him. “I don’t trust them.”
“I won’t be alone. I’m bringing my shieldmaidens.”
“You’ll still be outnumbered.”
“Not by much. And if you ever finish removing all this debris, I’ll be good as new.” She gestured to where his fingers were still buried deep inher shoulder, unmoving. He took the not-so-subtle hint and got back to work. Probably not as gently as before.
The silence dragged on and Laeknir pulled out two more pieces.
“I think there’s only one left,” he said.
“You think?”
“Well, if it doesn’t heal, we’ll know I’m wrong,” he deadpanned.
“How did the mortals get their hands on these weapons? Why weren’t they dying?” she said under her breath, trying to distract herself from the pain. “We need answers.”
“You could always ask them,” Laeknir said.
Solveig’s scoff morphed into a grunt of pain. “I’m sure they will be very forthcoming.”
