“Oh, stop, you two,” Silla sniffled, eyes shining as she looked between them. “Ashes, but you’ll make me cry.”
Warm adoration wrapped around Rey at the sight of Silla emotional at leaving Kalasgarde when she’d been so reluctant to come. Her transformationhere had been remarkable. As, he’d admit, had been his own. Where once he’d felt despair, now he felt…renewed. Filled with new purpose.
“Do not worry for Rey,” Silla said in a watery voice. “I shall protect him.”
“Ah, but I don’t doubt it,” teased Vig, his eyes softening. “Fierce thing that you are.”
“We did not have the chance for a Nordurian ice bath,” said Silla, wiping away a tear.
“I believe you did your own ice bath,” Vig said with a hearty laugh. “I’d wager that’s enough to last a lifetime.”
Silla launched herself at Vig, wrapping him in a fierce hug. “I’ll miss you, Vig,” she blubbered, burying her face in his chest.
Vig patted her back, sharing a light-hearted look with Rey. “I’ll miss you, too, Silla of the South. Keep searching out that shy Blade Breaker skill of yours. And watch after Runný, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Silla sniffed into his chest, unwilling to let go.
Rey pried Silla’s fingers loose from Vig and shuffled around the back of the shield-home to allow Runný some privacy in her farewells to her family. After several minutes of crying into his chest, Silla drew back, looking at Rey with red-rimmed eyes.
“You must think me a fool.”
“It’s a beautiful thing,” said Rey, wiping her tears away, “to forge such connection with others. Never feel ashamed of that.”
Her hands slid up to his collar, pulling his mouth down to hers. “You always know just what to say,” she whispered against his lips, then kissed him slowly.
“That’s quite the opposite of what I’ve been told,” he said, lips moving along the wet streaks on her cheeks. The salt of her tears burst on his tongue, and he wanted to kiss them all away and ensure she’d never cry again.
But movement within the forest had him drawing back and reaching for his sword. Rey stared into the bushes, his chest clenching tight.
“What is—” Silla’s voice trailed off as she followed his gaze.
Together, they stared into the coal-black eyes of the barn owl, peering at them from a low-hanging pine branch. It made no sense for the creature to be awake during daylight hours. Made no sense for it to feel as though the owl was bidding them farewell. But Rey was learning some things in this world could not be explained by logic alone.
In the days following Silla’s battle with the mother serpent, she’d repeated the story she’d attempted to tell him under the auroras. Had explained about the owl, finding her in the Twisted Pinewoods. Of how, because of the owl, she’d chosen the Owl’s Hollow Inn in Reykfjord. And in this moment, rather than grief, Rey was filled with gratitude.
“Thank you.” Rey’s voice shook with emotion. “Thank you for guiding her to me. For bringing us together.”
Silla’s hand found his, squeezing it tight
“Perhaps you might pay Harpa a visit,” Rey said. “I know she’d appreciate it.”
The barn owl blinked, ruffling its feathers. And with a powerful push off the branch, it took flight, vanishing over the treetops and out of sight.
Gyda’s fading voice reached Rey’s ears, as did Vig’s proclamation that the greataxe was, and forever would be, what a “true warrior” wielded. Soon, the voices were gone. Drawing back, Rey looked down at Silla, wondering how a heart could feel empty and full all at once.
He sighed. “We’d best be getting on the road.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
SUNNAVÍK
Saga stood before the door to the queen’s drawing room, trying to smooth the wrinkles from her lone blue dress. She’d been nauseous since yesterday’s daymeal. An image flashed in her mind’s eye—skirts whipping around her ankles, the Klaernar watching eagerly.
Saga forced her thoughts to the present with a deep, calming breath.One step, she told herself, knocking on the ornate door. There was only forward.
As a thrall led her through Signe’s drawing room, Saga tried to settle her queasy stomach.
Since the wretched daymeal which had altered the course of Saga’s life, a dozen plans had been built up and burned down. Ana and her link to the Uppreisna were gone. Rurik and his plans to steal her from the palace were gone. Which left Saga at Signe’s whims. This was no longer about grand plans. No longer about a daring rebellion. Saga’s world had narrowed to the very dire need to stay alive. Today was about trying to salvage something from the wreckage of her life.
