A deerskin map is rolled out on one of the long tables, all of us gathered around it. Seth taps the outline of Uldarvik and drags his finger across the ocean to the southern coast of Erleya. “The castle is about here, correct?” he asks.
My skin feels too tight for my body, and sweat breaks out along the back of my neck at the mere thought of being near the Fortress on the Mount. “Correct,” I respond.
Briony glances up at me, an unspoken apology in her eyes. I avert my gaze, but it lands on Odgar. He stares at me as if he’s reading my mind.
I refocus on the map and ask, “So where’s this magical land supposed to be?”
Briony stares at the map for a while before her slender finger rests on a heavily wooded area somewhere in the east of Erleya. “Somewhere here,” she says. “I have no definitive location, unfortunately. But this has been widely agreed upon as thevicinity. It’s not easy to get to, however. You cannot justwalk in. The land only welcomes those who belong.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask.
Briony shrugs. “I’m not certain, but I suppose we’ll find out.”
Odgar scratches his beard, lips pursed as he stares at the map. “It would be too risky to travel across the kingdom. I imagine we’d draw too much attention. Sailing northbound puts us in Ardallan waters—those shits are always far too eager to instigate battle. No offense, Seth.” Seth shrugs with anone takenlook. “We’ve not been in active war for years, but they’re bullies in the waterways.” Odgar looks at his sister. “Valdis have you found anyone willing?”
“You know I have my loyal crew,” she says with a wink. “They’re ready whenever. Have you spoken to Freyr?”
Odgar sighs but says nothing else.
“Odgar.” Valdis starts to argue with him in rapid Uldaran. As they go back and forth, I stare at the map. At the neatly drawn rivers and trees. Returning to Erleya feels like walking into a death trap. What if I’m caught again?
My throat constricts, my lungs seizing up.
Silence falls around me and a firm weight settles on my back. “Revna?” Odgar questions.
I drag my gaze up to his concerned face, my breath haggard. “If I’m caught in Erleya, take me out,” I whisper. “Whatever you have to do. Throw an axe, knife, shoot an arrow. I don’t care. Just don’t let me live if I’m captured.”
Odgar blinks; clearly it was not what he expected me to say. “It’ll be hard for them to capture you with their heads cleaved from their necks,” he says evenly.
Valdis nods in fervent agreement.
A tear slips down my cheek, but I swipe it away and refocus on the map. “The Outer Isles has a port,” I force myself to say. “It’s Erleyan territory but notoriously more lenient than eitherMainland or the Grounds. There isn’t a large presence of the Royal Brigade or even Forayers there, so it’s our safest bet. We could perhaps go further North to avoid much time on foot, but we’ll risk guarded forces along the coast. Entry may be more difficult.”
“We can aim for the Outer Isles and recalibrate if needed,” says Seth. “Valdis’s crew are esteemed warriors. A small bunch but mighty.”
I nod. That’s good to know.
“So now, we just need Odgar to speak to Freyr, and we need the two of you to be wed. Let’s get this alliance officially set in place,” says Valdis.
“Does that sound good to you,revna?” Odgar asks.
Enidwen’s annoyance has a hold on my mind; she’s always in utter disagreement of this marriage—specifically of any feelings, mild or otherwise, toward this man. But when I glance up again, Odgar’s warm smile obliterates her irritation. My own smile twitches on my lips, but it’s smothered by a sinking feeling in my gut. The reality of marrying him is growing, and I can’t help but feel like it’s unfair to him.
For so many reasons.
Chapter 22
Taig issix years old today. Where has the time gone? Ma and Da would be so happy to see him thriving. His exuberant grin as he’s showered with love by everyone is a soothing balm over my grief. The O’Haras are here, as are Alys’s cousin, Jali, and her family. Alys brings out a cake of rich chocolate and warm spices with a delicious strawberry filling in the center. Fresh berries adorn the top of the molten chocolate finish. Taig devours his piece, even eating the berries, much to my surprise.
As night draws near, I lounge on the couch with Taig on my lap, watching Chiyo and one of Jali’s children take turns telling fables and sharing songs. It’s incredible celebrating Taig with a group of people that care so much about him—no need to hide him or pretend he doesn’t exist. I gently caress his curls as he starts to doze off against my chest. Tiernan smiles at me, tenderness in his eyes.
“Ready to send everyone home?” he asks with gentle signs.
As much as I wish to remain in this loving atmosphere, I nod. Taig is half asleep and we have training in the morning.
Hugs are exchanged, final birthday wishes uttered, but I call to Dayfyd as he’s about to step out of the house. He faces me, amixture of anticipation and remorse in his expression. “Alys told me once that you were a talented tattooist,” I say.
The remorse melts away, a smile taking over his handsome features. “I am,” he says, not haughtily.
