His answer is firm. “None.”
I’m left with a sense of confusion. If I hadn’t seen his forge and all its neatly lined-up tools with ordinary coal smoldering in the bowl, I wouldn’t have believed him.
Several steps farther along the corridor, my eyes widen again. The firelight catches the walls, bringing into view intricate symbols carved into them.
“What are these?” Even as I speak, I miss a step, my eyes widening when I recognize one of the symbols:Courage.
The same rune is carved into my hammer.
“Did this place belong to the Einherjar?”
Thaden’s steps slow. “Can you read the runes?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I only know a few.”
He pauses to point to the wall, his hand trailing along the air beside the intricate lines. “According to the story written here, this was the birthplace of Fenrir, the monstrous wolf of war. He is one of the gods revered by the Einherjar.”
“A wolf,” I murmur.
“Also according to these runes, he now walks this Earth in the form of a man.”
“Did Malak ever come here?” I ask.
Thaden’s forehead creases. “Why do you ask?”
“He wanted to be a god,” I say. “Perhaps this was his inspiration.”
Thaden seems thrown, his shoulders tensing. “Milena said that members of her House were often sent out on diplomatic missions to dangerous territories. Their house was considered the lowest, so its members were dispensable.”
“That’s why he was sent to the fae east of here,” Tamra says, speaking up from Thaden’s other side. “Right?”
Queen Karasi told us that she met Malak when he visited her people, but everything she said is suspect, as far as I’m concerned.
Thaden nods. “Milena mentioned it to me when the fae first started pushing west. And yes, before you ask, he did kill their previous Queen. Karasi wasn’t lying about that.”
He turns back to the runes. “He also spent time in the north with the Einherjar. He taught himself to read runes. Then he taught Milena, and she taught me. I never imagined he might have been here, in this cave. Possibly even standing right here…”
He gives himself a shake, but his forehead remains creased and the tension around his eyes is more intense, as if the thought of stepping along here now unsettles him.
Tamra moves into his path, tipping her head back to see Thaden’s face. “You are not him.”
He gives a snarl. “You know I am, Tamra. Exactly like him.”
“But not for the same reasons. Not for hatred or malice.”
His shoulders slump. “Yet the outcome is the same: death and pain.”
“No,” she says, her small hand folding around his forearm. “No.”
He glances back at me. “How about we let Asha be the judge of that?”
Tamra’s worried eyes meet mine, but for some reason, her expression softens. “Asha will judge.”
Then she turns on her heel and hurries forward into the dark as if she doesn’t care that she’s leaving the light behind.
Thaden follows her, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders.
I walk close behind him, my gaze flitting to the runes a final time before they come to an end.
