“I’m going mad,” Hekla mumbled. It was the only explanation.
The back of her neck prickled, and Hekla knew that Loftur had stopped talking. She winced, keenly aware that all eyes in the barn were now trained on her back. Someone tried to conceal a chuckle behind a cough, but it was enough to set her teeth on edge.
A figure appeared at her side, and she knew it was Eyvind even before he spoke. “You’ve pushed too hard too soon,” he said softly,placing a hand on her shoulder. “You must return to the inn and rest.”
Hekla’s anger burned to life, and she shook his hand loose. “I only need some fresh air.” And with that, she strode out of the barn.
The sunlight was bright, wreaking havoc on her throbbing skull. Hekla braced against the lone cart in the yard, drawing in long, calming breaths. Perhaps she ought to have listened to the healer and rested for longer. Because it seemed she was losing her gods-damned mind.
But she couldn’t afford to look weak. Not here. Not with the eyes of all those male warriors upon her. Hekla needed to gather her wits before she did irreparable damage to her reputation.
Sigrún appeared beside her, that damnable black hood concealing her face.
What is going on with you?Hekla wanted to shout.Why have you turned so nervous and flighty?But then Hekla reminded herself a squirrel had just spoken to her. Clearly, she was not of sound mind.
The arrogant one watches, Sigrún signed.
Hekla straightened and followed her gaze, finding Thrand leaning casually against the barn doors. His face held a mixture of loathing and suspicion, and Hekla knew in an instant that Eyvind had assigned him to watch her. Did he think she would try to sneak back into the Western Woods? Did he not know the very sight of them sent a shiver down her spine?
Hekla turned away and gasped. “No.” The gods-damned squirrel was bounding toward her. “You leave me alone.”
Sigrún was signing, but Hekla was too distracted by the voice in her mind.
Protector,it said,you must follow Kritka.
“Leave me be, you insolent creature,” she growled. But just like in the woods, the squirrel was unperturbed. It hopped onto the wagon, then scurried along the siding. Hekla’s chest constricted as she looked into those beady black eyes. She saw intelligence. Saw more than amere squirrel. She saw a grimwolf in the mist, keeping her from harm...
My mistress needs your help, said the squirrel, for Hekla was now certain it was the squirrel’s voice in her head.You must follow Kritka into the forest.
Are you all right?signed Sigrún, concern etched into her shadowed face.
Hekla swallowed. “Can you...do you not hear that?”
Sigrún’s brows furrowed.Hear what?
Hekla stole a glance at Thrand, whose stance was now anything but casual. He watched her with the keenness of a wolfhound who’d just scented blood.
Nothing, Hekla signed, hardening her jaw. Not waiting for Sigrún’s reply, she whirled on her foot and took long strides toward her black mare. She had to get out of here. Get some rest.
Why do you not follow Kritka, Protector?asked the creature. Hekla made the mistake of looking back; the gods-damned squirrel was following her.My mistress begs of you?—
“Leave me alone!” exclaimed Hekla. She forced her voice to lower. “I do not know why you think I am this...Protector, but I can assure you I’m not.” She raked a hand over her warrior’s braid.
The squirrel cocked its head to the side, tail twitching.
“Leave me be!” Gods above, she was talking to a squirrel.
I will show you, said Kritka, whiskers twitching.Kritka will help Protector see.
“Not on your life,” she muttered, refusing to glance back.
Hekla mounted her black mare and galloped down the road. She did not look back for a very long time. But when she did, she was eternally grateful not to see a squirrel bounding after her.
THIRTEEN
Hunched over her ale, Hekla tried to ignore the building chaos in the Hungry Blade. The Winter Nights celebrations seemed to start earlier and earlier each day. Already, Onund Ale Drinker was drinking straight from the jug, while Alf the Slender arm wrestled one of the Old Mothers, and Halldora buzzed about looking completely frazzled.
Gunnar slid onto the bench beside Hekla, handing her a fresh horn. “I hear you’re talking to woodland creatures now.”
