She hesitated. “I saw phantom visions. A little blonde girl I’ve only recently realized was Saga as I remembered her. She…” Silla shuddered. “She was my constant companion.”
His stomach felt as heavy as a stone. “The skjöld leaves,” he murmured. Kristjan had seen visions as well—had spent hours talking to their long-dead parents.
Silla nodded. “She came and went, and yet, she was the most constant thing in my life. And so, you see, I’ve never truly been alone.”
“I’ve always been alone,” Rey found himself saying.
Silla drew back. A flush crossed her cheeks, as though she was suddenly aware of how near they’d grown. She scooted a few inches away, and while Rey knew he should feel relief, he felt the loss of her touch like an ache.
“I’m sorry,” she said, a tendril falling over her forehead. “For attacking you. And for weeping on you.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” said Rey, willing himself not to reach for the coil of hair. To tug it straight, then let it bounce back up.
As she looked at him, her brows drew together. “Have you truly always been alone?”
“Not with the Bloodaxe Crew. But in between jobs, especially after my brother…” He found himself unable to complete the sentence. It was too raw, too vulnerable. To explain Kristjan’s death was not a thing he could survive twice. It was easier to be a lone wolf. To keep everyone out.
“I don’tlikebeing alone,” Silla admitted. She pushed the tendril up, but it fell back across her forehead.
“You’ll get used to it,” Rey said, staring at the curl.
Silla let out a long breath. “My behavior is appalling. I do not even recognize myself.”
He shook his head. “I should not have left you alone.”
They stared at one another, a new uncertainty hanging in the air. Rey didn’t like it one bit. He wanted to gather her back to him. To hold her until all her fears melted away.
Silla stood, smothering a yawn. “Now that I know you are safe, perhaps sleep will find me.” She hesitated. “Good night, Rey.”
“Good night, Silla.”
As she retreated behind the curtain, Rey stared into the hearthfire’s orange coals. Seeing the woman who’d fearlessly faced down the Bloodaxe Crew so utterly undone had shaken something loose inside him. Rey tried to imagine all she must be going through now—alone, confused and haunted. Lone wolf he might be, but now, Silla needed a pack.
With a long sigh, Rey tossed another log on the fire.
Chapter Sixteen
SUNNAVÍK
Saga’s heart hammered as her eyes swept the colorful jars lining the shelves in Maester Alfson’s study. For the dozenth time in a minute, she questioned this plan.
A day had passed since she’d dosed Lady Geira with luna root powder and gained a sample of her handwriting. Saga had pondered the discovery of Geira’s curious hobby. On the one hand, Geira was unlikely to report her salacious story missing. And on the other, there was the ability to use it as leverage. It was rather improper for the High Gothi’s wife to write erotic stories about the Bear God. Could Saga use this damning evidence to get Geira’s compliance in handing over the queen’s correspondence?
But it appeared Geira was still bedbound, and Alfson had stated the letter would be sent in two days’ time. Saga was growing increasingly worried about acquiring the wax sealer. She needed that stamp. With it, she’d be able to buyweeksfor Eisa while the Wolf Feeders scoured the wilds in the wrong direction.
Which brought Saga to Maester Alfson’s study with the request for a tonic to “ease her nerves.” The tin of luna root lay heavy in her pocket, yet Saga did not want to use it on Alfson. Should the maester come down with the same affliction as Geira immediately after meeting with Saga, it would be rather obvious who was the culprit. She’d brought it only as a last, desperate resort.
But when the maester’s young adherent had let her into the empty study minutes earlier, Saga was shocked to be left alone while Alfson finished upwhatever maesterly things he did all day. Naturally, Saga had jumped at the opportunity to search the place.
She tried to ignore the eyes following her as she threw cabinet doors open, scouring the shelves for anything that might help her cause. It was bad enough, the maester had a dozen dead animals mounted on his walls. But these animals…their eyes were not as they’d been at birth. They’d been swapped—a wolf’s yellow eyes with something far larger, the fox fitted with some other creature’s unearthly blues. The rabbit’s eyes looked reptilian—brilliant green, the pupils a vertical slit. There were countless more, but she’d tried to banish them from her mind.
She moved to the maester’s worktable, eye twitching at the cluttered space. Snatching a piece of parchment, Saga read the cramped writing.
•Salvia-bled out (12)
•Burning nettle-weakened heart (11)
•Alpine catspaw- reduce dosage. Day 5 infection (13)
