She smiled, a strange sense of peace settling into place.
Closing her eyes, a vision flashed before her: a small girl running, a net clutched in her hand, brown hair rippling in the sunlight. The vision twisted. The girl reached for her, eyes wide with fright as Saga was wrenched from her arms.
Don’t leave me!Saga had screamed. But they’d left her. Everyone always did.
I’m sorry Eisa, she thought.This is the only way to find peace. I love you and will see you again amongst the stars.
Chapter Seventy-Five
KALASGARDE
Silla’s white blade sizzled through the air as she launched into the striking sequence Rey had been working her through. She ducked low while swiping up, but her back foot slid on a patch of ice. As her hand shot out to balance herself, her blade sliced through a clump of wild grass poking through the snow.
“Focus,” said Harpa, perched on a chair.
Silla had been working through the motions for hours already. Her hair was frosted white, her eyelashes crystalized and glinting. A dozen or so ice spirits played amongst the birds who’d gathered at Harpa’s feet, chirping for bread.
Rökkurechoed in her mind, and she stumbled again. Righting herself, Silla released a frustrated breath.
“What happened?” asked Harpa.
“I’m distracted.”
“You must learn to block out the noise,” said Harpa. “The first battle is always within yourself.”
Silla’s eyes slid to Rey, who was perched on his favorite stump. Like her, he seemed lost in thought—stuck on Harpa’s revelation from the day before.
Rökkur,she’d said.The twilight of our world.
Silla and Rey had exchanged an uneasy look at the statement. It was one thing to believe the gods held sway over minor happenings amongst mortals—the signs Silla so often looked for, like the weather, perhaps. But to believethat Myrkur, god of chaos and darkness, was awakening to bring an end to life as they knew it…was a leap.
“None know the full story of Rökkur,” Harpa had explained. “Once, there was a tapestry. I saw it in Sunnavík as a young girl. Even then, it was ancient and badly frayed. I fear I do not know what became of the tapestry when the Urkans invaded.”
“What I know of Rökkur is that it has happened before. It is said it began with frost and ended in fire. The yarn begins with three long winters bringing famine to the land. And it ends when the Sleeping Dragons awaken, cleansing the realm with fire and choking the sun with ash and smoke. From the wreckage, a new era shall begin. But what passes between frost and fire is not known.”
“It is but a tale,” Rey had interjected.
“It is as real as the gods,” Harpa had replied. “As real as the sun and the galdur flowing through your veins.”
Silla was wary—it was too large a leap of faith. Yet when she thought of that shadowy presence, of the voice in the ice caves, she didn’t know what she believed.
“And the chasm?” prompted Rey.
“A crack in the world,” Harpa had replied. “I’ve been weaving threads from all over Íseldur these past days and see a pattern. Dark creatures not seen in centuries crawling from the crevasses in the north and the deep-rooted woods of the west, through the swamps in the south and the water spires in the east. Through those cracks, Myrkur’s spawn has emerged, feasting on the flesh of man and Sunnvald’s other creations.”
“The mother serpent?—”
“Daughter of Myrkur,” Harpa said softly. “Slipping into our world to bring chaos and strife. I am uncertain if the serpent’s purpose was to kill you, or if it was an unfortunate coincidence. But it is said only the Volsik bloodline can stop Myrkur’s chaos. This must be why he’s been meddling with your ancestors. And it seems he’s trying to gain access to your mind. We must shore up your protections. Keep him out.”
“Why a Volsik?” Silla had asked in desperation.
Harpa’s eyes had grown distant. “I fear it is one of the lost threads. It is said the Volsiks carry an additional blessing from Sunnvald. A gift with which to defeat Myrkur. But the details are not known.”
“Istré,” Rey had said absently. “The Western Woods. If what you’re saying is correct, the Bloodaxe Crew are neck deep in things they haven’t a clue about.”
“You believe this?” Silla had asked incredulously.
“I don’t know,” he’d replied. “But I’ll admit, it explains many things. Whythe ice spirits sought you, of all people. If the ice spirits believe you are the key to defeating Myrkur—that you have this blessing from Sunnvald—it fits that they’d take you to the source of his spawn to defeat them.”
