“His scars are evident—a warning,” Torden said. “Not all of us carry our scars on the outside like that, so we do other things to protect ourselves. I joke.” There was a sadness in his smile I hadn’t noticed before. “Borje emphasizes his scarred face. Darcke… he is angry—and he uses that anger to keep people away.”
That choked feeling wrangled itself from my chest up my throat again, so I only hummed.
Torden halted by a group of initiates sitting at the fire I’d turned pink.
“You aren’t so different from him, I think,” Torden said softly. “You push people away too.”
But I don’t want to.
A horn signaled over the water, and Torden adjusted the axe on his back.
“Duty calls.” He patted my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”
Even though I wasn’t so sure of that, I nodded. “Thank you,” I said as the warrior walked off.
He didn’t turn around, but he waved at me over his shoulder, then used the same hand to gesture to the initiates sitting around the fire.
Bile teased the back of my throat, but I forced myself to walk into the circle. Whatever conversations had been happening died immediately. I pretended not to notice as I bent and sat down beside a girl with beautifully wavy raven hair.
“I’m Elvara,” I said, as I tapped my horn against hers like Torden had done with me.
It was quiet for a beat before she laughed and responded, “I know.”
“I guess you do.” I tried for a smile. “Where are you from?”
“Aaland. I’m Geord’s cousin.”
As someone started talking beside her, my shoulders lowered an inch. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s nice.”
“Not as nice as Oenskan, I’m sure,” she replied.
Another girl leaned in. “Is it true every house has their own dock? That your father gifts every married couple a ship?”
My father never allowed us to speak of Oenskan in this way, because not every chief treated their people like he did.
Jealousy drives people to terrible things, he’d always warn.
But Torden was right. I’d forced three people to join my inner circle, and it wasn’t fair to subject them to the loneliness and danger that came with being the outcast of the Hird.
“He does, but we share the docks,” I said.
Two of the men joined our conversation.
“Is it true that the current that goes by Oenskan can take you to the western seas in days instead of months?”
“Does your cattle grow larger than anywhere else because of the magic of your rivers?”
“Are the wolves prowling your island trained to keep enemies out?”
“Can you really ask the water where it’s safe to sail when you prepare for travels?”
I answered as truthfully as possible, laughing when the questions were more imaginative, but as more people pressed in and the questions began to border on roads and rivers leading to our village, I tried to switch the subject.
“So, what do you plan to do tonight?” I asked.
It was still early, the moon hovering halfway over the mountain behind the lake.
“Of course she won’t tell us anything that could actually lead us to Oenskan,” one of the guys snapped. “The Sweengards always think they’re better than everyone else.”
