“That woman isn’t my Raina.” A tempest rolls in his voice. “That woman is someone else entirely.”
The tent flap slaps back, and Finn ducks into the open. I stumble back as Hel follows her brother. She rubs her hand across his back, and after giving me a somber look, walks across the campsite’s small clearing to stand with the others. Finn watches her go, then lowers his gaze to the fragments of his bow.
A cold sweat dampens my palms as I extend the wooden remains. He accepts, careful not to touch my fingertips.
“Please talk to me.” I clasp my hands together for a moment before my next words. “Let me say my piece.”
“Why? Nothing will make this better.” He turns and starts south, back the way he came. It might be pointless, but I hurry after him, grabbing his arm.
He swings around and shrugs me off. “I’m leaving, Raina. Hel says you’re coming to the loch. I won’t be there. Have a nice trip with your boyfriend.”
“Finn, do not do this,” I sign. “War is coming.”
He laughs. “And exactly what are you, a powerless village witch, going to do about it? Are you going to kill the Prince of the East like you planned to kill the Frost King and his collector? Better warn Thibault since you tend to fuck the men you decide to murder.”
The bond between me and Alexus shudders with rage. When I look at him, he’s gripping the hilt of his sword, the fire in his eyes promising that he could take Finn’s head for that comment alone.
I pour my disapproval through the connection between us and force my intent into my glare. In answer, Alexus rolls his shoulders and releases his weapon.
I face Finn and make one last effort. “I have been through far more than you can imagine,” I sign. “And I may not be skilled yet, but I am more capable than you give me credit for.” I gesture to my marks. “I have these for a reason, Finn. Stay and let me show you. Let me explain. Tiressia needs us.”
Moments pass, a few brief seconds of contemplation on his part. “Tiressia doesn’t need us, Raina,” he finally says. “How can you not see that? It needs Neri. And now it has him. He will find his way back to his true form and end the feud between the Eastland Territories and the Summerlands once and for all. When that happens, this perilous game you’re playing with your life and my heart will have been for nothing.”
At the mention of Neri’s name, a cold gust whips around us, and a tinkling sound floats in the air. Alexus must hear it too, because my rune throbs, and concern crawls along the bond. I hunch away from the wind as it deposits a thin frost on the ground, coating our boots. Finn grimaces and turns his face, but he doesn’t know to notice the presence lurking near, the phantom sliding a touch along my spine.
A malevolent hello.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles, but I refuse to give Neri the satisfaction of a reaction. He’s here, though. As he has been since we left Winterhold. Watching. Listening.
“Neri is not some gentle god determined to guard his people,” I sign, wondering if Hel explained Neri’s true history to her brother and he simply refused to believe her. “He is a self-serving bastard. He had the chance to help Colden Moeshka, but he stole his power instead.”
An irritated groan resonates from Finn’s throat. “He also fought a war for many years against Thamaos and his rulers, to keep the Northlands and the Summerlands free. That’s more than I can say for a murderous Eastland traitor who spins tales that make him look like the hero.” He glares over my shoulder at Alexus, daring him to take offense, then turns his eyes back on me. “Neri—a god, Raina—could be our leader, instead of a pathetic Frost King and his Witch Collector. Thamaos and the Prince of the East will roll right over them. Hide and watch. At least Neri could give them a fight.”
The disgust I felt every time I walked into Finn’s father’s forge and saw Neri’s pennon hanging there is nothing compared to what I feel right now. I can only stare at Finn as my stomach clenches to the point of sickness. Such piety for a god whose rule he’s never experienced. A god whose amber eyes have never held him captive.
He feigns being taken aback. “What? You really thought I’d fight someone else’s war? That I’d happily watch from the fringes of your life as you go on some pointless quest with him?” He stabs a finger at Alexus and then leans in, brown eyes glistening. “I love you, Raina Bloodgood. I’ve always loved you. I’m sorry if it wasn’t the kind of love you wanted. That it wasn’t perfect or exciting or dangerous or whatever the fuck that bastard makes you feel. But know that I died in that valley because of you. I thought of your suffering and imagined your misery, and I wanted to cut out my heart to stop the pain. I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. I wanted to take back every single time I refused to leave this godsdamn valley with you. I hated myself. Maybe I still do. And maybe, when I kissed you earlier, I thought about how I’d do anything you want. Anything. Just to make certain I never lose you again.” A rogue tear slides down his cheek. He scrubs it away like it offends him and begins walking backward, face filled with disappointment. “Except for this. I won’t do this.”
My heart lurches inside my chest, reaching for him. With every step he puts between us, another tie that binds our friendship snaps in two. But unlike my heart, my feet root where I stand. My choice is made. And it isn’t with him.
I press my hands to my face, tears spilling from my eyes as he turns his back on me, and I let him go.
He only pauses once, spearing me with a glance over his shoulder. “Good luck having a life without me, Raina. I’ve a feeling you’re going to need it.”
12
RAINA
The Northland Break
Hampstead Loch
* * *
We reach the loch the next afternoon.
The blue expanse shimmers under the sunlight as a cool breeze ripples the tents lining the beach. The scent of burned wood still lingers on the wind, though the village down the way was turned to ash weeks ago now. Such a loss will live with me forever, but despite the fiery memories, my heart swells at the sight of life in the valley.
Unfortunately, I’m distracted by the lack of safety here. Willow trees line the lakeshore along with Brigot’s Rock, the lake’s defining feature, and several rocky outcroppings good for shielding coastal winds sloping off the western range. But there’s no further protection and nowhere to hide. The villagers didn’t know the Eastlanders’ fates on Winter Road, or that they haven’t been vulnerable to another raid. And yet they remained steadfast, gifting our people proper burials anyway.
