And as she rode through the shimmering edge of the wards, Hef’s voice rang out in the clearing.
“It is time, Harpa.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Aflurry of soft peeps met Rey’s ears from the crate he balanced on the front of the saddle. The waning sun shone sharply on their backs as they rode down the trail. After a day spent patrolling Kalasgarde and its surrounding farmsteads, Rey was weary. To his knowledge, the creature had not struck after all, which left him wondering. Was the seven-day cycle merely coincidence?
During a last patrol of Vig’s farmstead, Vig had mentioned a new hatching of chicks, and the idea had struck Rey. For days he’d racked his mind for a way to put a smile on Silla’s face. The corners of his lips twitched as he thought of her surprise when he passed her a handful of baby chicks.
“You must return them to me tomorrow, else Runný will tear me a new arse,” warned Vig as he and Rey rode along the trail. “She’s gotten rather fond of this brood. Their mother wanted nothing to do with them, so they won’t miss her one bit. Just feed them, and they’ll love you. Chickens are simple like that.”
Vig paused, and Rey could feel his apprehension. “I’ll muster the neighbors to patrol the walls tonight, but I’m needed on the steading tomorrow. You’ll manage without me?”
Rey nodded, trying to piece together a plan. Without knowing what the creature was, he couldn’t build a trap, but he could try to lure it, perhaps with a sheep’s carcass.
They crossed the threshold of the shield-home’s wards to find Silla slashing a wooden sword through the air. Had she ridden back from Harpa’salonewiththe beast lurking about these parts? Anger gathered in his gut, but it quickly gave way to worry.
Rey had always been attuned to this woman—long had he watched her from the corner of his eye, marking each smile, each flinch, each small expression. So perhaps it was no surprise that he saw it immediately.
Something was wrong.
“Go home, Vig,” said Rey.
“Thank you for your help, Vig,” replied Vig in a mocking voice. “Thank you for your excellent navigation skills, Vig. Thank you for lending us your chickens, Vig.”
Rey fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Thank Gyda for us,” he said, just to irritate the man. “For sending the evening meal over with you.”
“Arse,” Vig muttered with a scoff, but Rey heard the telltale signs of his mount turning then riding back down the trail.
Dismounting, he watched Silla as he led Horse to the stables. Her hair was loose and hiding her face as she moved through her practice with uncharacteristic carelessness. As she swung the practice sword with upward momentum, her foot caught on a stone, and she stumbled forward with a curse.
Rey had seen a hundred small mistakes in that singular move, but he knew better than to point them out. After pulling Horse’s saddle off and freshening her water, he decided to leave the chicks in the stables until he could speak to Silla.
Cautiously, he approached. “In need of a sparring partner?”
She pushed tangled coils from her face, giving him a clear view of her red-rimmed eyes.
“What is it?” he snapped, more harshly than he’d intended. Rey couldn’t help it—the evidence of her tears made him want to sink an axe into someone’s skull.
“You should visit your grandmother,” Silla said, not meeting his gaze.
“What happened?” he asked, forcing calm into his voice.
“A woman died.”
“Who?” Rey demanded, trying to calm his thudding heart.
“Freydis,” replied Silla.
“Hef’s wife,” muttered Rey, dragging his hands through his hair. “How. What happened?”
“Your creature, I assume,” said Silla.
Rey blew out a long breath. Vig had heard that Hef and Freydis were out of town. They’d been to Hef’s farmstead, had found it vacant, and assumed therumor to be true. Too late—they’d been too late to stop the thing, and now it would be another seven days before he had a chance…
“You must go to Harpa’s.”
“The creature won’t attack for another seven days,” Rey said, watching her.
