“The protection rune?” asked Vig, breaking the silence.
“No,” said Rey. “It is upside down, which means…” He cleared his throat. “That is the death rune.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
SUNNAVÍK
Saga found herself in Asla Tower early, pacing the floor as she awaited Ana’s arrival. She was grateful for the moonlight spilling through the window, as she’d left her torch at the bottom of the stairs so as not to be seen through the tower windows.
Pulse thrumming, she rifled through her satchel to ensure her supplies were all there—fresh parchment, a quill, an inkwell, and, of course, the sealer stamp. After days of waiting, tonight was the night of action, and Saga could barely contain herself. All day she’d found herself wondering what the letter Ana had intercepted might contain—directives for the north? Perhaps an update on Eisa?
The door’s iron hinges groaned, making Saga jump in her skin.
“It’s only me, Your Highness,” said Ana, sliding through the doorway, a pair of scrolls held in hand.
“Two?” asked Saga eagerly.
Ana nodded, hurrying over. “One addressed to Reykfjord, the other to Svaldrin.”
“Svaldrin?” Always, it was Svaldrin. It was becoming increasingly apparent something was afoot in that city.
The pair settled on a patch of floor bathed in moonlight, Saga carefully slicing open the first scroll. Reading in stilted silence, her spirits sank with each word she read. Svaldrin’s letter was a summons to a seamstress requesting her services for the production of a bridal gown. Ana glanced at her, setting the letter wordlessly aside.
Saga busied herself with the second letter, pretending she didn’t know who the bride would be. But as she read it, what little hope Saga had grasped slipped through her fingers. The second letter was an invitation for a jarl’s family in Reykfjord to attend Princess Yrsa’s birthday feast.
Silence filled the room as the pair stared at the letters.
“Well,” Ana sighed, “there will be more letters. Sooner or later, we’ll find something worthwhile.” Saga felt the woman watching her, felt the questions piling up. But Saga did not know Ana well enough to reveal what she was looking for. Eisa’s existence was best kept secret, and an absence of news was good.
She gave herself a mental shake, pulling a square of parchment from her bodice. “What do you know of the Black Cloak?”
Ana’s brows drew together as she pondered the question. “’Tis a name I do not know.”
“I believe it’s the name for Signe’s liaison,” said Saga, handing the list to Ana. “Three kommandors have perished under questionable circumstances, and these men have replaced them. Perhaps one of them is the Black Cloak.”
Ana’s eyes widened as she unfolded the parchment. “Brilliant, Your Highness!” Ana read the names, a line forming between her brows. “Thord, we’ve investigated. Midfjord’s kommandor, as well. But Hilja, this is new.”
Saga tried to keep her disappointment at bay.
Ana pursed her lips in thought. “It is a start, to be sure. I shall bring this to my foreman.”
“Perhaps,” said Saga cautiously, “if I knew more details about your…concerns, it could help me narrow my search.”
Ana’s apprehension could be felt in the air, and Saga readied herself to lower her mental barriers. But Ana surprised her by answering her question.
“Galdra have gone missing.” Saga met Ana’s determined gaze. “Taken for the pillar, yet never executed. They vanish from the Klaernar’s custody, as though they were never there.”
“And you believe Queen Signe is involved in this?” At Ana’s nod, Saga’s mind raced. Missing Galdra. The queen. Svaldrin. Eisa and her Galdra companion. It must all fit together…somehow.
“We believe the queen is plotting against her husband.”
Saga pondered the statement in silence. It matched what Saga had gleaned from the queen’s inner thoughts…her ambition to take for herself…an enemy in her bed…
“Ivar strikes her,” murmured Saga.
Ana scowled at that. “In truth, we’d not mind her scheming one bit, were it not for our missing kin.”
“Kin?”
