“Liquid Hindrium,” supplied Hagbard.
“The liquidhindrium,” spat Jonas. “This was the Wolf Feeders’ battle to lose.”
“They were under orders to take them only if both targets were sighted,” said Ulfar, sulking.
So she was there with him. Jonas’s stomach twisted at the realization that Rey had shared something so personal with her. Meanwhile, Jonas was realizing he scarcely knew Rey at all. But he knew well enough how good she was at getting a person to open up.
I did not wish to lie to you,rang her voice in his ears. All while drawing out his hopes and dreams—his greatest shame. And then she’d smashed everything to bits.
The smolder in his stomach burned hotter, higher.
“So,” he forced out, “shewas with him. A battle ensued. The Wolf Feeders must have been vanquished; else they’d have checked in by now.”
Ulfar nodded in agreement. “It seems that way.” He sighed. “What do you propose?”
“What do I propose? Iproposedthe Wolf Feeders wait. Assess. Determine numbers, strength, formations.” He was echoing Rey leading the Bloodaxe Crew into battle, and the realization made his stomach lurch. But Jonas kept talking. “Now, I don’t know. You’ll need a way to gain the upper hand. Retake the element of surprise.”
Ulfar and Hagbard watched him expectantly.
Jonas blew out a long breath. He’d been happy to direct the Wolf Feeders from afar. To feed them Rey’s weaknesses and helpful information. But as he looked at the kaptein and his half-witted second in command, he was beginning to understand.
If Jonas wanted to get the job done, he might just have to do it himself.
A knock on the door.
“In!” barked Ulfar.
The young Klaernar warrior sidled back into the room, handing Ulfar a scroll. “This just came from Kunafjord.” Ulfar slashed the wasp sigil open with his dagger. Flattened the scroll on the table. A wolfish smile spread across the kaptein’sface as he read.
“Out,” said Ulfar, and the young Klaernar left.
“What is it?” asked Hagbard as the door thunked shut. “What’s it say?”
He handed the scroll to Hagbard. “It says we have our element of surprise.” The kaptein’s eyes met Jonas’s. “The queen’s Chosen will arrive in two days’ time.”
Chapter Fifty-One
KALASGARDE
Silla stood in Harpa’s yard, bitter traces of replenishing tea lingering on her tongue. She glanced over her shoulder in search of Rey and found him leaning against Harpa’s cabin, his umpteenth cup of replenishing tea clutched in hand. Based on the troubled look on his face, the heart of his magic had yet to return.
Silla tried to push her worry for Rey from her mind, but she couldn’t help but remember the way he’d looked before rushing from the bed—their eyes had met, and he’d opened his mouth as though he wished to say something.Tell me, she wanted to beg.Talk to me!
“We must get to Harpa’s,” he’d said instead, yanking on his clothes before heading outdoors.
She didn’t want to admit that his sudden coldness made her uncertain. Already, her feelings for Rey felt altogether different than what she’d had with Jonas. Now she was left wondering what this was between them.
Silla tried to bury her doubt, focussing instead on the beautiful sword of white light. She could still feel its imprint in her palm—could recall the power she felt wielding it. There had been a rightness to that blade, her galdur taking its fated form.
After countless cups of replenishing tea and a trip to the steam bath, she came to a realization. It seemed certain motes of light had affinity for one another; that they need only be guided together to make these connections snap into place. It was an intuitive thing, impossible to explain to another. WhileHarpa thought of it asweaving, to Silla it was more like…herding. And once she started thinking of herself as a shepherd of sorts, everything slid into place.
When at last she looked down at the sword of white light, she was filled with exhilaration. It was cold against her steaming palm, the familiar taste of winter on the back of her tongue.
“Malla-blessed,” Harpa breathed, a note of wonder in her voice. “In all my years, I have not seen such a thing.”
Silla’s eyes found Rey leaning against Harpa’s doorframe. His lips formed an Almost Smile, but his gaze was distant, as though his mind was not in this realm. Coldness grew in the pit of her stomach.
“Relinquish your sword,” instructed Harpa, forcing Silla’s attention back to her task. “Practice summoning it again.”
