With an ominous, “May Njord steer your ship,” he sent them off.
The sky was still lit by the dying sun, light blue hues of night deepening as the minutes passed. Helle flew like the wind itself through the forest, Njord right on her tail.
If Solveig thought Westley was grumpy, it was nothing compared to how agitated Helle was. When Solveig prepared her for their journey, the horse turned her nose up and refused to acknowledge her in any way.
She stood proudly while Solveig groomed and saddled her. No offers of reconciliation could entice her, not even those involving food.
Even as they raced through the forest, Solveig was not leading, despite her best efforts. Helle pulled against her reins, apparently knowing a better way to the Idavoll harbour.
Solveig had tried to steer her to follow Njord as Westley led the way. But Helle was having none of that. The horse had reared her head and stomped her feet and taken off in another direction. Westley and Njord had no choice but to follow.
They tore through the thick trees, Helle leading them deeper and deeper into the forest. The snow created a blanket that covered the earth, silencing the world around them. Solveig’s skin crawled with discomfort, trapping her in a cave where the only sounds were the beat of her heart and her ragged breaths.
No animal calls nor even the whistling wind could penetrate the thick trees. A sense of foreboding washed over Solveig, and she swallowed the feeling of dread.
This would be her second trip to Hel. The first had been more than enough reason to never step foot in the realm again. The fates must be laughing at her from Valhalla.
She didn’t know how much Ragnvald knew of her, or if he knew that deep within the jaws of Hel, her father was trapped. And if he didn’t know that, he certainly didn’t know she had helped trap him there—for his own good and the good of their realms.
The chains had been created by the Dwarven, and only her blood could open them. She wished she could warn Westley, but the wordswere forbidden. Every time she tried to speak about her father, the blood vow syphoned a bit of her magic away. She couldn’t afford to lose a drop.
Westley broke into her dark thoughts.I smell the sea.
So Helle was right?
Yes, he said begrudgingly.I do not like that a horse knew a shortcut I did not. How the Hel does she know the way?
Beats me, Solveig answered with a shrug.
I cannot wait to be on the water, he thought blissfully.
Solveig hesitated to respond.
What’s wrong?he asked.
I wasn’t sure when to tell you this, but I guess you’ll find out soon anyway.Solveig sighed.I don’t do well on the water.
Why not?
I get seasick.
Westley didn’t answer. Instead she heard him laugh behind her and whipped her head around to glare at him.
I have the power to control the sea, my magic is strongest out on the ocean, and my mate gets seasick. A cruel joke from the gods, he said, wiping a tear from his eye.
I’m glad my suffering is funny to you.
Oh please, you laugh at my suffering all the time, he said, still chuckling.
Solveig couldn’t really argue with that, so she said nothing. She felt the phantom touch of nausea at the thought of the ship as the dark expanse of ocean came into view.
Dismounting when they reached the harbour, they hesitated. Based on the silence that followed their wake through the forest, they had not been pursued.
Solveig led Helle to the edge of the water as they assessed the ship—it was bigger than she thought it would be.
The long wooden length was outfitted with ten oars on each side, framed by circular shields, before the ship curved at the ends up into a reptilian head on one side and a coiled tail on the other. A great mast towered over them, the striped panels faded from countless journeys across the sea. It was a magnificent vessel, if not too large for the two of them.
Though, with Westley’s abilities, he could encourage the water to carry any boat, no matter the size.
