I’m the one who came to Uldarvik for sanctuary. He doesn’t deserve me snapping at him like a spoiled princess. “Apologies,” I say, my voice tight. “I’m just exhausted. And I don’t know how to control this.” I hold my palms up toward the exposed beams of the ceiling. “The palace Healer taught me some general grounding techniques before I even knew I had magic, but whenever my emotions flare up, I forget it all.”
My chest heaves even as I try to calm my breathing, as I once again turn from him. He steps into my line of sight, the glow from the flames dancing across his coppery skin.
“It happens to the best of us.” When he straightens, I keep my eyes on him. He regards me silently, scratching his cropped beard and running his hand over the antler tattoo across his left cheek. As he lowers his hand and steps toward me, my entire body tenses, my lungs seizing.
Immediately, he steps back, putting more than enough distance between us. “Sometimes it helps to get outside in the cold. What do you say?”
My eyes widen. “Right now? In the middle of the night?”
He shrugs, muscles rippling obscenely beneath his tunic. “Why not?”
I sigh. “Alright.”
It seems to take an eternity before the crisp air hits my face, feeling as soothing as the most delectable bath.
Gods, I miss my extravagant baths with rose petals and oils. Roses were my mother’s favorite fragrance.
But my body is still holding on to more heat than it should, and I’m sweating beneath the hooded fur cloak Odgar found for me. I gulp and close my eyes, breathing in, then out slowly. When I peel my eyelids open again, my breath leaves my lips in visible wisps that hover in the air before vanishing. Odgar offers me his brawny arm, and I flinch instinctively.
A few lines carve the space between his thick brows, but he doesn’t say anything about my skittishness, and he doesn’t back down either. I link my arm with his, a comforting warmth radiating from him, and we begin to walk across the frosty terrain.
I remember leaving the castle as a child and traveling into Barr na Cahar—it’s the closest I’ve gotten to seeing a village before now. Yet Barr na Cahar is vastly different from this village in Uldarvik. The city outside Paramount is filled with small shops, cobblestoned streets, and large manors for the elite. Here, wooden huts of different sizes appear more frequently on either side of us the farther we walk from the Great Hall. The mountains with their ice-capped peaks provide an ever-present backdrop. Slightly different from the green, rolling hills and black, rocky crags of Erleya.
“You don’t have to talk about anything right now, but I want you to know that you can trust me. With anything.”
I stop walking and turn my gaze from the frost on the low-hanging branches above us to Odgar. But no words come, and tangible awkwardness settles between us again.
I shift my hand to the spot where my amulet once settled against my chest. Its absence leaves my heart with an aching, sun-shaped hole.
“So, Sumarvegr,” Odgar says suddenly. “It’s approaching at the turn of the season.” His words defuse the tension and call me back to the present.
“Suma—” I furrow my brows, then blink rapidly as frost drops from another low-hanging branch and onto my nose.
Odgar smirks and gently pulls the fur-lined hood of my cape over my head. “Sumarvegr.”
I try to commit the pronunciation to memory andnotthink about the tenderness in his actions.
“It’s our yearly journey to the Hallowed Wood where the gods await.”
Await … No one knows when the Erleyan gods last walked among us, but perhaps it’s different here. “Figuratively?”
“Or perhaps literally.” He winks.
“That’s … cryptic.”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, stirring a fleeting sensation that isn’t unpleasant in my stomach. I resume walking and he follows.
“This … journey. Is there any specific reason for it?”
“It differs for everyone. Some make the journey out of their devotion to the gods, or obligation, or a need for a renewal. An ancient Seer lives within the Hallowed Wood, and a lot of Uldarans visit during this journey.”
“A Seer?”
“Yes, those who feel lost and need a bit of guidance navigating the emotions that come along with Sumarvegr visit the Seer. He answers the deepest, darkest questions of one’s soul… speaks about the hand of destiny … cures the incurable. All with the help of the gods, of course.”
My gaze shifts to a large cauldron hanging over a stony firepit in front of a hut. A small wooden horse on wheels lies on its side not far from the firepit. I replay Odgar’s words in my mind. It’s his culture, so I cannot say aloud that it seems absolutely ridiculous that one man can do so much.
Then again, Enidwen nearly destroyed the very existence of all Magekind. Maybe this Seer is just what I need to get rid of her bloody curse.
