As much as I try to push at it, I know I already made my choice when I pulled this silver-haired woman out of the snow.
I take a deep, shaky breath, determined to calm the fears rising up within me, only for my chest to fill with the scent of her hair.
It’s a soft, sweet and calming fragrance. The fine strands tickle my chin and my cheek. Her head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck while her arms are folded between us.
Her hand rests on my heart, binding me to her with every thudding beat.
Chapter 9
Idon’t have to speak my answer.
My father gives me a single nod, his expression never changing, but within his eyes…
Damn. I can’t decipher what he’s thinking or know what he’s feeling.
His expression is that of a warrior who has seen too much death and felt too much loss and is prepared for more of both.
He speaks quietly, as if he already knew my answer before he asked. “I’ve readied the sled so you can carry her on it. You won’t have Thoren to cover your tracks, so you’ll need to choose the rockiest paths, where the sled won’t leave deep marks that can be followed. Those paths will be harder to travel but safer for you both.”
My voice is hoarse. “Father, I?—”
“Whatever direction you choose, don’t travel too far east. The fae rule those lands and you can never trust a fae.Never.” He gives me a stern look. “Do you understand?”
I take a quick breath. “Yes, Father.”
“The same goes for the north. If you travel too far north, you’ll encounter our old clan. If you’re lucky, they’ll kill youquickly, but they’ll take their time with her. You know this already.”
I suppress the cold chill slipping down my spine. “Yes, Father.”
“Stay west,” he says. “Find humans and hide among them. Keep her hair covered until you can figure out a way to mask its color.”
“I will,” I whisper.
He reaches out to squeeze my shoulder through the rug, his eyes appearing faded now. “Remember always that your deep light is finite. If you choose to call on all of it at once, it will give you the strength and speed of ten men and deliver you glory in death.”
His grip tightens. “If you choose to die in this way, the Valkyries will come for your soul and deliver you to the Hall of Warriors.”
A little light flares once more in his eyes before it fades again. “But make no mistake: Your deep light is like a flame consuming wood. Once burned, there’s no escaping the death that follows. Whatever you do, don’t burn out your light unless you’re certain that death is inevitable.”
Releasing my shoulder, he jabs at the wood in the hearth. The blue runes inked across his hands are stark and clear in the firelight. They’re the marks of the Einherjar. Marks that neither Thoren nor I wear because we weren’t old enough to get them before we left our clan and since then, he made the decision that we wouldn’t be inked.
The wood crackles and I picture the gleaming portions crumbling into ash as inevitably as death will come to me if I choose to burn out my light.
“I understand,” I say.
At that, Father turns to the cloths in the pot. He uses the tongs to drain each cloth, one at a time, allowing them to cooland testing them against his own face before he gestures for me to extricate the woman’s hands so he can wrap them.
Silence stretches between us as he works, and I’m conscious of the quiet from within the turret. Thoren will have heard our conversation and be processing all of this too.
Father breaks the silence as he presses the cloths to the woman’s left hand.
“There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” He pauses. “It’s about Thoren’s mother and how she died.”
Thoren’s mother was our father’s second wife after my mother died. It was the circumstances of Thoren’s mother’s death that caused our father to leave his clan, but he would never speak about the details.
My focus flickers back to the turret. If there’s something Father hasn’t told us about Thoren’s mother, then Thoren should be the one to hear it.
As if he reads my mind, Father quickly says, “Thoren already knows. It was his right to hear it first.”
