Avina collapses against a tree trunk to catch her breath, burning inher throat. Down the hill, the city's twinkling lights taunt her through the evening darkness.
Should I go straight to Slode? He will not allow his oldest friend to suffer. And he is likely with Bertie.
She jogs through the underbrush until she reaches a rarely used gate along the city wall—no sentinels patrol the ramparts, raising the hairs along the back of her neck.
Where are the soldiers? Could this be a trap set by her father? Or has Thrain redirected his warriors to another purpose?
Where does Slode live? I don’t have time to scour the town for him. Who else can I go to?
Two waning torches barely illuminate the gate carved with repeating images of ravens and intertwined serpents. With a silent prayer to Maeve, who she at least knows is paying attention, she pulls against the heavy gate. She groans against the weight and is shocked when the giant door gives way, allowing her to slip into the city undetected.
She clutches the nautilus shell around her neck, thanking the gods for the combined power of the Stones.
She finds the streets deserted. Not that it matters much with her invisibility. The shrouded darkness of the evening could signify the lack of foot traffic, yet something else tugs at the back of her mind.
“Back to your post!” A raspy voice echoes across the way.
She leaps behind an evergreen shrub while a uniformed soldier yells at a younger man dressed in the matching livery of a Salt warrior.
“The Queen hasn’t been through here. Why would she be dumb enough to enter the city?” The younger man objects.
“King Thrain is certain she will attempt to save the Prince. We must deliver her to the King unharmed.”
“She has invisibility powers. How will we find her?”
Father!She curses him for sharing her ability.
“Watch for anything out of place. The Queen will not abandon the Lord Commander.”
The men dissipate, leaving Avina shaking like a leaf. A rescue plan begins forming in her head, but she needs more axes than her own–well, more trained arms to wield the axes.
Grim can help me, but is he still at the pub or the brothel? There isKar. Ugh, I don’t want to appeal to Kar. I think he still blames me for the war.
Still, she knows if Sigvid were in her place, he would ally with his worst enemy to rescue Avina. She resignedly sighs as she darts through the city's shadows until she reaches Kar’s home and their yellow front door. She sneaks around to the back and through the rear entrance directly into the kitchen.
The space is quiet, unlike before, and the children are likely dreaming already. Only Kar sits at a long, worn table, sipping a horn of ale while his wife, Ingirid, massages his shoulders.
“Hello, Kar.” Avina allows the invisibility to melt away, revealing herself to the couple, who jump, swinging curses at her sudden appearance.
“Ah, fuck! What is this?” Kar demands, standing to his full imposing height. “What are you doing in my house?”
“Thrain and my father took Sigvid. And Helga,” she swallows thickly, unsure if she can repeat the horror she witnessed, “Thrain murdered Helga.”
A lump catches in her throat. Realizing the shieldmaiden served Thrain sexually, all while secretly reporting back to Sigvid, made her somehow understand the woman even if she will never fathom the affection for the other Thordsson brother.
His eyes widen, and he grips the table for support. “Lock the doors, dear, and board up all the windows. Wake up Lod and Arnor. Tell the boys to ready themselves.”
“Thrain controls the Salt Army. None of the warriors thought twice about apprehending Sigvid.”
“You mentioned your father?”
“He brought at least some Ridge troops who surrounded Blackwood. I am developing a plan, but I need more axes.” She approaches him, her chin held up high.
He scoffs, snagging his horn from the iron stand on the table and draining the contents in one gulp. “I don’t need your help, Your Highness.”
Avina withdraws one of her axes and slams it into the wooden grainsof the table. “You and the other Salt generals hardly stood a chance against me during the war. Considering our differences, you may not like your Lord Commander’s affection toward me, but you know my Stone powers can save him. You need my mind, Kar.”
“Father?” Lod and Arnor appear in ruffled tunics, trousers stuffed into muddy boots.
