Just as I’m shoving my feet into my shoes, my stomach grumbles. Ketill then appears at my side to hand me a protein bar and a cup of tea.
“Thank you.” I unwrap it and sink my teeth into the chalky bar. “Are you hungry? Do you need more blood?”
“No, treasure. I’ve already taken enough from you anyway, and the village we need to get to is thirty miles away. So I want you as healthy as possible.”
Ketill cleans up while I sling the satchel over my shoulder.
“We weren’t very careful with you yesterday,” I tell the egg, petting the bulge. “But I’ll do better today.”
“Dragon eggs are sturdy little things,” Ketill informs me as he throws the leftover water from the kettle over the fire, steam and the smell of burnt wood soon filling the space.
“My brother Teagan is a sturdy little thing, too,” I inform Ketill, “but also needs a gentler approach at times.”
Ketill takes my hand and leads us out of the safety of the cabin and into the harsh cold. The wind isn’t as bitter as last night, but it chills me all the same, and I huddle the satchel closer as we step towards a pale new sun set into a painfully blue sky.
We begin to walk, frozen grass crunching underfoot.
“Why were you even on that train?” Ketill asks.
“God, that feels like years ago. I’d learned about a prehistoric village at the coast of Sandwick, it’s my last trip before I finish my degree.”
“My little history buff.”
The back of my neck warms, even as my heart flutters. “I want to stand in the places people long ago did, and I guess now I’m…with a thing from history.”
Ketill grins widely.
“Too bad you didn’t experience anything interesting…” I complain, side-eying him.
“The brothelswerea lot of fun.”
I huff.
Ketill barks a laugh, the sound filling up the green-and-ice valley. “We never know we’re in history until people study it five hundred years later. But I’m not immune to the past either.”
I perk up. “No?”
“Vampires move through the world, and because of that, we pick up culture, language, and customs easily. It’s how we hide, how we live. But all this change can mess with our heads.” Ketill gently knocks the side of his head against mine, and a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “We lose our sense of self, so we need an anchor, a reminder of who we really are.”
“Like what?”
“Anything. My father collects ice skating magazines.”
My nose scrunches with confusion. “Why?”
Ketill shrugs. “Dunno. Sometimes it’s personal, other times it’s just a fancy that has caught our interest.”
“And what’s yours?”
“Stories. After all my fun, I go home, and I write down all my adventures and who I’ve met and what I’ve done. And I’ve saved them all for a thousand years.”
I grab hold of Ketill’s forearm, my eyes widening. “That would be one of the biggest historic archives in…oh my god. That’s a massive part of history, Ketill! You’ll let me read it, of course. Won’t you? You have to.”
Ketill laughs. “How could I say no to that face?”
I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. “This has to be the best day of my life.”
“Not yesterday when you fell madly in love with me?”
