What was that?
He glared at Skalmöld, who was crouching in front of him. Heavy rain could be heard pouring down outside the cave.
“Why did you pull me back? I was just seeing—Never mind! Why did you send me to this place? There was no trace of my sister. Just a girl who vaguely resembled her.”
Skalmöld watched him with an unreadable expression.
“What did you see? You got so agitated, even the weather changed with your distress. I decided to guide you back to prevent you from getting lost between the worlds.”
“How kind of you,” Njord growled. His head was pounding as if he’d drunk too much mead. It felt like Thori’s screams and the sharp cracking of the whip still echoed through his mind. “What your vision showed me was the blasted Thori Odinsson instead of my sister.”
She blinked at him, clearly surprised.
“But—No, this can’t be.” Frowning, she grabbed the cup from which he’d been drinking and sniffed the contents as if she’d not brewed the potion herself. Then she took a sip. “It should’ve worked,” she mumbled.
“But it didn’t. Worse, it showed me something I need to take care of before I can continue my search for Ahti.”
“How so?”
“You showed me a raider’s camp. I know the fjord. It lies on Vanaheim’s soil.”
“A raiding party of theÆsirin Vanaheim?” She jumped to her feet. “What are you waiting for? Let me get my sword. I’m coming with you.”
“What? No, it wasn’t theÆsir.” Despite himself, he couldn’t suppress a smile. Norns, this priestess was ridiculous.
“But you said Thori Odinsson was among them.”
Njord sighed.
“Odinsson is their captive. But there are others. I can’t stand by whenVanrraiders drag innocent people off to the slave markets of Asgard or Niflheim.”
“No, we can’t have that.” Skalmöld’s pale green eyes lit up with determination. The expression was so familiar, but he couldn’t have said whom she reminded him of if his life had depended on it.
“Who’swe?” Njord asked to cover up his confusion.
“Can’t you see? The vision worked. This is clearly your fate: take revenge on the man who killed your dragon, rid Vanaheim of these slave traders, and find your sister.”
Njord gaped at her. She was clearly mad. Her attempts at interpreting his vision were worse than Ahti’s first tries at divination, and those had truly been awful.
“How would I find my sister during this foray?” he tried to reason with her, although knowing the ways of the seeresses, he shouldn’t have bothered.
Skalmöld grinned at him, enthusiastic and girlish.
“Trust me, sea king. You’ll find her.” And with that, she jumped to her feet and began rummaging around in her cave.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting my sword. I’m coming with you.”
five
The Vala’s Prophecy
Thori
Gray clouds clung low over the mountains, and ceaseless rain soaked the raiders’ camp in mud. Curling in on himself, Thori tried to find a bearable position in the only part of the cage more or less dry. Still, his now short hair stuck to his face in wet strands, and the mud below him had seeped into his breeches.
Days had passed since the whipping, and though the initial pain had dulled, his back burned with a steady, searing ache. Svanhild had come to him once afterward, pouring a stinking powder over his wounds. The stinging pain that had followed had made him scream, but at least the wounds hadn’t become infected. Only a living thrall would fetch a good price, she’d told him with a cruel smile, and he knew by now that his captors had every intention to sell him. The mere thought made Thori’s cheeks burn with shame. How could he have let it come to this?
