Silla’s hand remained steady at the use of her true name. “And you, Harpa,” she said, stepping forward and surrounding Harpa in a warm embrace. Rey battled a smile at the discomfort on his grandmother’s face. “Thank you. Foreverything,” said Silla, pulling back with shining eyes. “Truly, I leave here a better person. You’ve changed me, and I will carry a piece of you wherever I go?—”
“Very good, very good,” interjected Harpa. “Now you’d best get on the road.”
Startled at Harpa’s quick ushering, Silla broke into a grin. “You’ll miss us!”
“I’ll enjoy hearing my own thoughts.”
“I’ll miss your optimistic wisdom,” cheered Silla.
Harpa shook her head, but the hint of a smile peeked through.
“And you, Rykka,” said Silla, turning to the smoke spirit. “I would hug you if it wasn’t a risk to my life. Be well.” She lowered her voice. “The ice spirits are a rather welcoming bunch, you know.”
Rykka cast a horrified look over her shoulder at the frolicking ice spirits. “Not on your life,” she retorted. But then she wrung her charcoal hands, a look of anguish filling her girl-like face. “Be safe, Reynir. And you, Trilla.”
Harpa and Rykka retreated into the cabin, and Rey found Silla wiping tears from her eyes. Gods, but she truly was crying—for Harpa and a surly smoke spirit.
“Come here,” he said, trying to hide his amusement. Pulling her close to him, he rubbed soothing circles on her back.
“I’ll miss them,” she sniffled into his chest.
“I doubt that,” he muttered, but that only seemed to make her sniffle harder.
“You’ll miss them, too!”
He snorted. “Save some tears, now. Vig is next.”
Silla wailed, pressing her face tighter into his chest.
Gyda,Vig and Snorri waited for them at the shield-home. Runný glowered at her feet, a cap of bright red perched atop her head. Rey’s lips quirked. One of Gyda’s creations, he guessed.
Rey went to his saddlesack and pulled out a small, sheathed sword. Lowering onto his knees, he presented it to Snorri. “Don’t let your brother plant lies in your head, Snorri,” he said. “A true warrior is adept withallweapons.”
Eyes wide, Snorri accepted the weapon. “This is forme?”
“Mind you don’t run with it!” Silla cautioned.
“Aye, yourunwith it,” Rey said, trying not to roll his eyes. “What, should a warrior amble into battle at his leisure?”
“He’stwelve,” she retorted.
“Ignore her, Snorri,” continued Rey. “Practice each day. And next time I see you, we’ll spar.”
Straightening, he ruffled Snorri’s hair. The boy was already unsheathing the blade, testing the edge against his thumb.
Gyda stepped forward, wrapping Rey in a warm, motherly embrace. “I’m glad to see you came to your senses, lad,” she whispered in his ear. “She’s a good woman. Mind you treat her right.”
To his horror, emotion felt thick in his throat. Gods, perhaps Silla’s affliction was catching. “I will…try.”
Gyda pulled back, her smile warm and knowing. “Don’t let it be another five years before I see your face again, or I’ll be forced to ride south and find you. I’ll storm right into your grand Uppreisna meetings and pull you out by the ear.”
Rey snorted at the image. “It won’t be five years. I swear it.” He paused. “And thank you. For everything.”
As he turned to Vig, Rey felt the tightness in his throat spread to his chest. “Be safe,” he told his friend. “Follow the plan. Update me on the mother and hatchlings as often as you can.”And yourself, he silently added.
“Course,” Vig grunted, an unreadable look in his eye. “You be safe as well.”
Rey’s response was a curt nod.
