I huddled closer to the horse’s warmth. My father always said Morkskog fed on the weak, and if you weren’t found worthy, the trees would be the first to scream the truth. Heirs had died in Morkskog before, and the forest used their bodies to grow even more unfettered. But there was an even worse fate: there had been heirs who’d escaped only because the forest didn’t want their husks tainting the enchanted grounds, but they’d done so without the trees’ blessing. That meant that the heir wouldn’t be able to build the additional ships their chiefdom would require with the influx of new blood into the fylki. It was an incredible dishonor. One the gods would not forgive.
The king placed a hand on Guner’s shoulder, and the second instantly shrunk back. “Seconds, you will be manning your heir’s ship, but you also need to be blessed by the spirits of the woods. You’ll need to work together to survive until the bay.” Gustief turned to the dark woods, and the strange leaves stirred fiercely in response. “Morkskog feeds on fear. You will need to face your own, not run from it, or the forest will not offer you a way out.”
Geord turned my way, his brows raised in challenge as he mouthed, “Boo.”
“He’s a problem,” Darcke said. His eyes slid to mine. “I don’t like problems.”
Neither did I.
Cold whispered over my shoulders when a distant howl rushed through the dark branches waving for us to come closer.
It didn’t help when I felt a mirroring shiver of worry run down Darcke’s spine. As the wind whipping through the woods whistled louder, a drumming started beating through the darkness. I wasn’t especially eager to find out where it came from, but when the king motioned for us to mount our horses, I made myself do so with a steady jump.
Viljan turned my way after pulling Ivren onto the white horsethey were to share, and I hated the lump that stuck in my throat at the hollow look on his face.
I had to talk to him. I was still furious that he’d suspected I had something to do with Lika’s and my father’s deaths, but as Darcke readied himself to join me on our mare and Viljan turned away, I shook it off.
I’d had to change at the Hird—and quickly. Viljan, on the other hand, would always be what he was: the proud guard of a chief’s eldest daughter, driven by duty and honor to protect the Sweengard name, although now it would be the Solsken name instead.
My mother stood a few feet behind Ivren and Viljan, anger still lining her shoulders.
I gave her a quick nod. She, too, was driven by duty. Whenever my father was gone on his conquests—which was often—she was the chief of our island, and that responsibility ate at her. Lika had also been her favorite, and while she’d never admit it, the rage she’d come at me with was fueled by pain.
“Don’t make excuses for them,” Darcke said as he placed a hand on the horse’s back, right behind where I made myself comfortable. “They hurt you, and you have a right to be angry.”
I shuffled forward on the mare. Perhaps I had a right, but I didn’t have the will. Despite what my mother had said, I did understand the stakes, and there was too much at risk to linger too long on petty arguments. I needed to get through the next few weeks without revealing my severed rune, and avoid getting attacked by our enemies again. Given the information Viljan and my mother had just shared, I also needed to weed out a traitor in our midst.
Darcke pretended to gag. “I don’t know why you’re so worried. You’retoohonorable.”
I stuck out my tongue at him, earning an eye roll as he climbed up behind me. His arms wrapped loosely around my waist, but his breaths came deeper—slower—than I was used to.
“Are you scared?” I teased, turning my head over my shoulder.
His eyes went between mine, and my body stiffened when his did.
“Of course I’m scared,” he replied in his low voice when the drums echoed louder. The mare started walking at the same time as the other four horses did, heading straight for the shadowed woods. “I like living far too much.”
Twenty-Nine
The first hours were quiet. The mare’s hooves crunched rhythmically against the leaf-riddled forest bed, and the drums that sounded like the forest’s heartbeat accompanied us as we made our way deeper into the wild woods. Thankfully, Darcke’s measured breaths against my back kept me steady.
Every once in a while we needed to duck under branches reaching for us like skeletal claws wanting to rip into our flesh, and I jerked whenever I thought I heard tapping steps, but each time the woods swallowed the sound. The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful, more like someone holding their breath right before battle, a quiet heart in a terrified chest, or the moment right before a cry of pain. It was thick and haunting, and it felt as if it closed in on us, trapping us in this realm of watching trees and ghosts and danger.
When a ripple of fear went through me, Darcke’s arms brushed my waist. I shifted, moving so that my back lined up with his chest. There was a second of hesitation, but then the warrior secured me there, holding me against him as we turned our heads at every strange rustle.
“There are no animals in this part of the woods.” Darcke’s voice was hoarse as it brushed my ear.
“It’s like it’s dead,” I whispered, grateful for the warmth surrounding me when a howling wind ripped through the air, making the blackened branches around us seem even more like ghostly husks. “My father told me the opposite about his experience here. That the woods were full of life and predators and traps.”
“It shows us what it wants to.” Darcke hooked a finger under my chin and tilted my face up. “Look.”
As we passed them, the trees turned, their trunks twisting and their crowns tangled in each other’s, building a thick roof that hid what little of the sky we’d been able to make out. Air struggled into my lungs at the sight of it—and the sense that the woods were looking back.
One of Darcke’s hands moved to press against my waist, his fingers drumming a slow beat that distracted me enough that I could take a breath.
“They’re watching us,” I whispered.
His stubble brushed against my shoulder as he nodded. “They are.”
