Could she wield power like that?
Ashbringer, Skraeda had called her, as well asBlade Breaker. Silla did not know these terms. But now that she’d had a glimpse of what Rey could do, an idea began to take root in her mind. At first, she nearly dismissed it. But witheach passing day, it grew and expanded until it had taken over completely. It seemed so clear now.
Come and find me, the little blonde girl had said. Saga was trapped in Askaborg with those who’d killed their parents.
And if Silla could wield power like Rey’s, perhaps she could free her sister.
With each mile they traveled, her purpose became clearer.
She would master her galdur and free her sister.
Each time Silla found sadness creeping in from the edges; each time she dreamed of her father dying on that road; each time their names echoed in her mind—Ilías Svik, Matthias Nordvig, Skeggagrim—Silla reminded herself of Saga.
Saga needed her.
On the sixth day,they met Vig and Runný, the warrior siblings Rey had sent to fetch Silla from Istré. To say it shocked the pair to discover Rey was now also in need of a shield-house was an understatement. Once their surprise had faded, they’d handed Silla a pair of wool-lined boots that had made her groan with delight as she’d pulled them on. But with the howling winds and frigid temperatures, they’d had to set quickly off down the road.
Now they clustered around a campfire, and Silla stared into the flames, glad for the warmth. She’d layered not one, but two blankets beneath her cloak, hugging them tighter as a frigid gust made the flames stutter. From beneath her hood, Silla examined their new companions.
Runný looked to have seen perhaps twenty winters. She had pale skin and dark, angular eyes, and her hair was styled into a dozen black braids adorned with glinting silver rings. Her brother, Vig, was as broad as Rey, with black hair twisted into a thick braid. Most curiously, Vig’s tunic ended at his elbows, revealing thick, and decidedlybareforearms. As she looked closer, Silla realized the man had forgone a cloak in favor of a simple wolf pelt.
Vig’s eyes met Silla’s from across the fire. “Aren’t youfreezing?” she blurted.
The man’s stern face cracked into a smile, and laughter boomed from him. “This is summer weather, Silla.” He shook his head. “Southerners.”
Runný cast a sidelong look at Silla. “Do not worry,” she said. “Your blood will grow used to the north.”
“’Tis true!” said Vig, folding his arms over his chest. Firelight danced in his eyes. “And once you grow used to it, you’ll want to seek out more. Perhaps when you’ve adjusted, I can take you to the glacial lakes for a true Nordurian ice bath.”
That sounded horrid, but Silla kept her mouth shut.
Vig bellowed a laugh, reading her expression. “It is invigorating. Reminds you that you’re alive. Even my grandmother swears by it.”
“Do not listen to him, Silla,” said Runný wryly. “He wishes only to see what is under your cloak.”
Vig shrugged. “I think you are jealous I asked her first, Runný.”
Silla felt her face flush, despite the frigid temperatures.
“Leave her be,” Rey bit out. Silla’s eyes darted to his in surprise. “She has been through much and should not be expected to weather yet another of your sibling rivalries.”
Vig chuckled. “It has not yet been a day and already you’re ordering us about. You’ve not changed, Galtung.”
Silla’s brows drew together.Galtung, notBjarg, which meant Vig and Runný knew Rey’s true name. Her eyes darted between Vig and Rey, trying to understand their history.
“After you’ve faced the strife we have, Vig, you can give orders,” snapped Rey.
“Don’t expect you can act like the king of Kalasgarde, Galtung. Some may kiss the ground you walk on, but others…we take our roots more seriously. We remember the scrawny northern boy you were.”
“Vig,” muttered Runný, as Rey released an irritated breath.
But Silla was stuck on what Vig had revealed. “You’refromKalasgarde?” Suddenly, Rey’s knowledge of the shield-house made sense. And his sullen resignation at having to accompany her made it clear there was something in Kalasgarde he did not wish to face. A fresh wave of irritation rushed through Silla. The man told her nothing!
Silla turned her gaze to Runný. “Are you both Galdra?”
“Subtle as thunder, aren’t you?” chuckled Runný.
Silla’s cheeks heated, but Vig merely shrugged. “I like it. No games or wasted words. Direct and to the point. We are Galdra, all of us in our family. I am a Blade Breaker; my sister is a Shadow Hound; our youngest brother, Snorri, is showing Ashbringer intuition?—”
