With a growl, Rey placed himself between her and the door, blocking her from Vig’s view.
“Who is it?” she asked, dark eyes glazed with the remnants of sleep.
“Only me, Silla,” called Vig from behind him, and Rey wanted to drive his fist into his friend’s skull.Vig rolled his eyes. “I’ll saddle your horse, Galtung.” The man wisely retreated into the yard.
Rey turned to Silla, unable to keep his eyes from wandering down to her bare toes and back up again. “A boy’s gone missing. I must—” He broke off with a sigh. He’dpromisedhe wouldn’t leave her alone at night. “I’ll stay,” he said, resigned. “I won’t leave you.”
But she surprised him, as she so often did. “Go,” said Silla, giving him a small, encouraging push toward the door. “There’s a boy out there who needs you. Go, Galtung. I shall be fine.”
Rey studied her face, searching for any trace of fear or apprehension, but all he found was determination.
She pushed him again, gently. “I’ll be fine. I have the chicks now. And you must do this.”
Relief rushed through him. She understood his need to see this through. Was willing to face her own fears so readily. And thank the gods above, she didn’t insist on coming with him this time. She had the wards. No one knew she was here. And they would only be gone for an hour…perhaps two.
As Rey fastened the last buckle on his armor, Silla charged at him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. He cupped the back of her head, holding her to his chest. It took every bit of his restraint not to bury his nose in her hair.
“Be safe,” she whispered.
He drew back. Looked down at her. It was strange to see the concern in her eyes—to have someone worry after him. It felt like warmth. Like a reason to come home.
His insides writhed in discomfort.
“I will,” was all he said. And with that, he exited the shield-home.
As the door slid shut,Silla curled up on the bench, pulling a fur over her bare legs. It smelled likehim, and she couldn’t help but worry for his safety. Butthere was a missing boy…people who depended on Rey and Vig to chase down that gods forsaken creature.
“They will return,” Silla whispered to the chicks as she pulled them from the crate. They settled in her lap, huddled in a fluffy pile. Hábrók alone remained alert, keeping watch over his brothers and sisters.
The shield-home was quiet, yet Silla knew better than to settle back in bed. Sleep would not find her so long as Rey and Vig were out there.
The man has pond sludge for brains,came a strange voice.Burning his own boat. What was he thinking?Silla’s spine straightened as she glanced around the cabin to confirm she was alone.
“Hello?” she whispered, concentrating with all her might. But all she heard was the snap of embers in the hearth, the distant whinny of a horse. Silla tried to relax her clenched muscles—tried to sink back into the bench. What had that been? Was her mind playing tricks on her?
“It was nothing,” she said aloud, Hábrók peeping in reply. “We must get you a hammer like your namesake.” She stroked little Hábrók’s fluffy head.
But the horse called out once more, closer this time.
Silla’s heart pounded a little harder. “You’re being ridiculous,” she chided herself.
A log collapsed into the hearthfire, making her jump. The chicks peeped in protest, but she scooped them up, the fur tumbling to the floor. As she deposited them safely in the crate, little Hábrók looked up at her, chirping shrilly.
“Hush, now,” cooed Silla. “’Tis only for a moment.”
Silla secured the lid in place and turned.
Stumbled backward.
Stared into the eyes of five men. Tall. Bearded. Ropes in hand. And dozens of blades sheathed at their hips.
“This is her?” asked a man with ragged blond hair.
A bald man in the bunch held something in hand—a slab of birch bark, Silla realized in horror. More time, she’d thought they had more time before their images reached Kalasgarde. Gripping the back of the bench to steady herself, Silla took in the familiar blue tattoos scrawled on the pale flesh of the man’s shaved head.
“You,” she said. “Y-you were at Harpa’s. With Hef and Freydis.” She pulled the name from the depths of her mind. “Ketill.”
Ketill scowled at her, holding up the etching. “Told you it’s her. And that was Galtung leaving just now.”
