Or lack thereof.
My hands balled by my sides. I could almost hear their divine laughs as the gods watched me suffer.
“Look at that,” Darcke whispered into my ear as the ship slid to a stop, sending thrills of apprehension over my skin as the sharp bow crested the beach. “A gilded cage with a dark inside.”
I refused to turn around when he lingered, his hot skin tormenting me as it brushed mine.
The brow came down with a low thud, and for a second I thought she might be here to take me directly to Helheim. But then the ship came alive.
My feet, which had been dragging—fighting—became lighter as I crossed the sand, a sense of home and calm and trust filling me until I could block out Darcke’s rage. My reflection was blurry in the polished hull, and the darker swirls in the wood rippled, welcoming me onboard.
“Hello, you,” I whispered when I took the first step onto the smooth brow and my hands found the beautiful railings, folding around them as I ascended to the deck like we’d been doing this for decades.
When she whirred beneath my touch, the unease lightened, and I drew a breath filled with the sharp smell of oil and forest and sea. My taut muscles softened when the wood began vibrating with a song I’d loved growing up—one of wonder and travel and trade instead of our usual battle songs—and I was about to hum along when a loud crash sounded behind me.
I whirled with my heart galloping into my throat.
First I was confused. The brow was half pulled up, teasingly waving in the wind. Then I saw Darcke digging his hands into the sand, his hair messed up and clothing damp. When his wild dark eyes found mine and a furious scowl overtook his chiseled features, I laughed for the firsttime in days.
Our bond strained with rage, but as I took a firmer grip on the railing and the ship creaked happily beneath my fingers, I didn’t care. Another low hum of my favorite song started as Darcke got to his feet, angrily stomping forward to get the brow down again so he could climb aboard.
I patted the wood. “I think we’ll be good friends, you and I.”
Thirty-Four
As I stood in the bow, my eyes closed to the wind, tears streaking my cheeks that weren’t of anger or sorrow but from the speed with which my ship took the waves outside of Nordoen, I almost remembered what it was like to be carefree.
Out here on the sea, with only the wind and the water by my side, I could pretend I was only the chief’s eldest daughter again. That my only worry was whether the husband my parents would eventually choose for me would come to live with us on Oenskan or if I would venture to his island. When my ship turned into the wind, playfully making water splash over the sides, I spread my feet until I stood steadier.
“I know,” I said with a smile. “I wouldn’t have met you if that was still the case.”
We’d only been back at the Hird for two days, but I’d spent the entire time aboard the vessel, telling myself we needed to get to know each other—that I needed to learn how to sail her, and that she needed to know what the seas out here were like.
The bow lifted, and my stomach surged when it came down again. “I didn’t mean that you don’t know how to sail,” I said softly. “We just need to get used to each other.”
The ship abruptly tacked, using the wind to throw us forward through the waters, and I grabbed the mast so as not to fall overboard. “Exactly like that,” I mumbled.
My vessel was a littletemperamental. It had taken about twenty minutes for her to allow Darcke onboard, and when she finally did, she’d sailed so hard to Nordoen that Darcke and I hadn’t been able to speak a word because of the seasickness consuming us both.
Not that I’d minded.
We’d arrived hours before everyone else, and as we sailed into the dock, she’d almost thrown my second overboard before turning and taking off again.
We’d been out to sea ever since.
My stomach rumbled, and I pressed a hand against it to quell the sound. By now, I was getting used to going without food. I couldn’t exactly blame my ship for not realizing there wasn’t anything to eat out here for me. It wasn’t like she needed it.
“We should probably get back,” I said as the wind whipped my hair around my face and my stomach roared again. “There’s never long between the trial of wood and the trial of steel, and I should get ready.”
I hadn’t wanted to think about the second trial. I was supposed to bring all my iron-bound so we each could earn our weapons, which meant I would have to deal not only with the brooding Darcke but also with the murderous Kilia.
It would be nice to have Ilse with me, but I also felt guilty bringing her into this mess. She’d have to engage with the two men almost as much as I did, and she’d had no choice in the matter.
The ship heeled, using the wind to throw us into a sharp turn toward Nordoen, and I went to sit in the helm, even though I hadn’t had to use the wooden helm a single time since I’d boarded her.
A heated awareness pricked the back of my scalp, and I tried to soothe any stirring emotions in me whenDarcke’s fierce ones burst through the bond. He’d been angrier than usual when I’d been gone. I’d woken several times in the middle of the night, staring at the stars while waiting for him to calm himself down enough that I could sleep again.
As the harbor came into view, my eyes instantly drew toward where Darcke’s ship should float. But she wasn’t there.
