“Stop!” the Necromancer calls, but I have brought my shield to his face before he can finish his sentence. He sways slightly but doesn’t go down. He unsteadily reaches for the sword at his side, but before he can draw it or get his bearings, I grab him by the beard and yank him down, smashing his face into the table where the woman lays.
He drops to the ground, unconscious. I make quick work of, steadying his hand before I bring my ax down. I take out a few extra fingers with the swing, but I haven’t the time or desire to be precise. I pull a cloth out of my satchel and pick up the pointer finger with it, the one that I saw him touch to the rock. Then I rise, lifting the runed stone off the table. I look over at the lady, she is just lying there staring at me.
I am half tempted to kill her and end her suffering, but perhaps I have seen enough death today or perhaps a part of me believes in the necromancer’s honest desire to raise his sister, because I leave the both of them lying there.
I shove the finger into my satchel and put the runed rock in on top of it. Marcello looks as if he is going to be ill, but I feel numb.
We are one step closer to raising the god and yet I can’t force myself to feel, well,anythingabout it.
Chapter Twenty-One
What the Firelight Reveals
Wecampagooddistance away from the village, just in case the necromancer comes to and decides to try to track us down. I half wish that we could have remained in the village. While it was a grizzly sight, we would have at least had the walls of buildings around us to separate us from the utter blackness of night.
I suppress a shudder, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder once again. It feels almost as if the darkness is an entity all its own and it is staring at me, its eyes boring into me from behind.
“So, our next step is to raise a god,” Marcello says as he drops some sticks into the fire Worm kindly lit for us. He pauses and chuckles with a shake of his head. “Only days ago, I would have thought myself mad for saying that but after riding dragons, wedding a Viking, and fighting an undead village… well, that honestly seems like a logical next step.”
Another shudder runs down my spine and I push to my feet, lifting the makeshift spit of sticks that we built up around the fire. I make a show of checking the meat of the hares that Drekki hunted for us, so that it looks like that was the reason I got up.
The grease spurts out, burning my fingers and I pull my hand back, licking them. “I think dinner is done.”
“You think?” Marcello asks with an arch of his brow. “You certainly have a way of inspiring confidence into people.”
“I was not raised or trained to be able to cook,” I reply, placing my hands on my hips.
Marcello shakes his head. “Oh, what am I going to do with you? Scoot, I’ll handle dinner. I’m not just a passable cook, but I’d like to consider myself a good one.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Are these recipes you learned in Imperialis?”
Marcello glances at me over his shoulder as he turns the spit. “Unfortunately, my fancy education did not allow for cooking. That was a skill I had to pick up when I came up here and started living amongst a bunch of soldiers. It was my only hope to not be at the mercy of another man’s cooking.”
He fusses over the meat for a few minutes before he turns, lifting the stick and hare off the spit. He strides toward me, sitting down next to me, holding out the stick. I accept it, shuddering again as chills slice up my spine. I can imagine a hundred different eyes in the dark staring at my exposed back.
“Are you cold?” Marcello asks, leaning closer. He looks a second away from ripping off his cloak and offering it to me.
“I don’t get cold,” I assure him. “I’m part ice giant, remember?”
“I don’t know all about that, you seem fairly human to me. Do you truly believe those stories?”
“I do notnotbelieve them,” I reply after a moment of consideration. “But I don’t put too much stock in them either.”
I take a bite of my rabbit. The juices squirt out across my chin. The rabbit does seem to taste uncommonly delicious with the skin the perfect amount of crisp and containing a smoky flavor. I don’t know how Marcello did it, but he made a plain slow roasted rabbit taste delicious.
Worm moves closer, I half expect him to lay down across my legs, but instead he sprawls over Marcello’s. I feel my mouth drop with surprise. What a traitor…
This dragon hates his own brother, can barely tolerate my shield sister, but the Imperial? The Imperial he will accept.
Before I can figure out just how I feel about my dragon choosing Marcello over me, I hear a quiet snap. I jump, but when I turn, all I see is Drekki there. He gives me an apologetic look before he settles down beside me.
I exhale slowly and turn to find Marcello staring at me closely. “Are youjumpy?”
“I don’t… like the dark,” I admit at last. “It could be concealing anything.”
Marcello lets out a short laugh but quickly sobers up when I glare at him. “Forgive me, it is just that you cut through draugr without a second thought, but something as harmless as mere darkness is what scares you?”
I feel myself start to smile. “I suppose that does seem a little ridiculous, but we must all have our weaknesses.”
