“A half-orc from Fafnir?” He stopped and arched a silver brow. “Then that must make you Daella Sigursdottir, the infamous tracer who roots out dragon magic. If that doesn’t make you a murk, then I don’t know what does.”
My cheeks flamed with heat. “At least you’ve heard of me. I can’t say the same for you.”
“Good.” He continued up the sloping beach, heading toward a copse of trees that backed up against the bank. I kept pace with him as we drew closer, and a thin dirt path cut through the looming woods. It occurred to me that I was about to follow a hostile elf who believed the worst of me, right into a dark forest. I was unarmed. He wasn’t.
But what else could I do? I had no coin, no shelter, no food.
And by the look of the pregnant clouds, rain could slash down from the sky at any moment. I didn’t want to be caught outside without my tent and my salt when it did.
“Well, you know my name. What’s yours?” I asked him in my much-practiced chirpy voice. As much as it pained me to lose my mother’s dagger, I couldn’t focus on those emotions right now. I had to bottle them up, like I always did.
To my surprise, the elf actually answered. “Rivelin.” He stopped at the edge of the path and narrowed his eyes. “Stop following me.”
“I’m not staying out here on the beach. It looks like it’s about to rain.”
“So?”
I fought to hold on to my smile. “I’m half-orc. My skin can’t tolerate fresh water, and I doubt it rains salt here like it does in Fafnir. Most places in the world don’t.”
“Perhaps you should have thought of that before sailing into the Elding so you could hunt down Draugr for your ice giant emperor.”
“Keep talking like that, and I’ll think you’re a Draugr yourself,” I quipped.
A low rumble sounded from his throat. “Fine. Follow me back to the village, but don’t expect any help. They’ll all feel the same as I do.”
“Why, because they’re Draugr, too?”
“Watch it,” he said, curling back his lips into a snarl. “This is a peaceful island, and we do not raise our weapons at each other—or at strangers, most of the time—but I will not hesitate to protect my people from your emperorand you. That doesn’t make us dragon magic users. It makes us free folk who do not bow to any crown.”
And with that, he took off into the trees. My heart pounding, I quickly followed him, breathlessness taking command of my lungs. It had been a long time since I’d heard someone speak so boldly against the emperor. Even the other Draugr I’d helped track down had rebelled in silent secrecy. They hid their truths behind closed lips and in dank, dark tunnels carved through the earth.
“If you’re dealing in dragon magic, then you’re far more dangerous than me,” I said, picking up my pace to slide in front of him. I spun on my heels and jogged back, watching his expression for any sign of a reaction.
But his face betrayed none of his thoughts. He stopped in the middle of the path, and his fisted hands hung heavily by his sides. With a snarl, he stalked toward me and came so close that barely a breath of air stood between us. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he leaned in and exposed his neck to me. His tanned skin glistened from the dense humidity of this place.
“Go on, then. I know you half-orcs can smell Draugr.”
Swallowing, I sniffed his skin. Just as before, he was all leather and smoke, but nothing more. A twang went through my belly when he pulled back and smirked.
“See?” he said. “Nothing.”
He took a step closer to where I stood in the way, between the beach and wherever he was heading—his village, he’d said. A light wind blew across my face, rolling in from the angry sea just beyond the trees, rustling the leaves against the ground. I took him in with a lifted chin and refused to look away, even if he’d won this small battle. I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t believe for one moment that he wasn’t hiding something. Everything he’d said and done so farscreamedrebellion.
And if I could prove it, I could spend the rest of my life free from Emperor Isveig. I could find an empty expanse of land, surrounded by woods and birdsong, and I could build a cabin there. Somewhere far, far away from Isveig, the ice giants, and that cramped tower so high above the earth and the soothing essence of the elemental Galdur magic.
I would be free.
I pasted on a smile. “Nothing. So all I need is somewhere to stay for the night, and then I’ll be on my way back to Fafnir. The emperor will be happy to know the Isles of Fable are free of dangerous criminals.”
He grunted. “The Isles of Fable?”
“That’s what the people of the Grundstoff Empire call this place. Does it have another name?” If I got him talking, perhaps he’d let something important slip.
“No, we just call them the Isles.” He made a move to step around me, but I followed this dance with a step of my own. “And as for you returning to Fafnir…unfortunately for everyone, you’re stuck for a while. It’s not safe to sail until the Elding passes on, so no ships will dock in our harbors for another six weeks—the day of Midsummer.”
My heart jerked. “Six weeks?”
My hip ached in sudden pain. The shard didn’t like the sound of that. It was cutting things too close. I had two months to return to Fafnir, although it was likely less by now. I didn’t know how long I’d been gone. And if I didn’t arrive in time, Isveig would release his control over the shard and allow it to freeze all the breath in my lungs.
