“I do,” I said. I did want it. More than anything.
You lie so well, you do it to yourself,Tyr said.
Gods, wasn’t he judgy?
We hear everything.
Perhaps Tyr’s warning should have made me cautious, but it only made me bolder.
“Then you know. I need this. I need to do this. For them!”
Frigg’s softer voice caressed my mind.Let me show you.
The knife lifted into the air, and when my fingers wrapped around the smooth hilt, my lips curled. I pulled down my tunic, and with assured strokes I carved another rune for strength over the bleached one. With every drop of blood running down my chest, the power inside me grew stronger, until I knew I could snap the divine dagger into dust if I wished. I bowed to the gods, and with longer steps than I’d taken in weeks, I left the Great Halls behind.
The fighting was still happening outside, but it was easy for me to take down my enemies. As the other heirs went in to get their runes, I killed the last of the chiefs and their warriors, sparing only Rakkel’s mother. My own tried to run, but chasing her down took only four long strides, and her neck snapped the moment I closed my hand around it.
The scene shifted.
Darcke was on his knees before me, Viljan, Geord, Rakkel, and Vero in the glen where the choosing had happened. So were Torden, Borje, and several other warriors. A new shaman—a female one this time—stood nervously behind us, her intricate tattoos so fresh I could smell the blood beneath the soot.
“We cannot keep them alive.” Geord stared into the ground as he spoke. “They betrayed one of us, and we will not let that happen again.”
I couldn’t speak. But I knew Geord was right. For my people. For Skagerik, we couldn’t allow those who’d gone behind our backs to live unless we wanted to risk others believing they could do the same. Rakkel and Vero took my hands as the axe fell, but they couldn’t hold me when Darcke’s head rolled up to my feet.
A cold I’d never felt before filled my soul, and it remained there for the rest of my days, every day holding on to me until I became nothing else than a shell of a Viking.
Do you wish this life?Odin asked.
I fell to my knees when the Great Halls returned.
It hadn’t happened. It hadn’t been real. I’d known the entire time, but I still felt that suffocating emptiness—the sacrifice that had been too great, that had fractured me until I was nothing anymore.
“No.”
Then you will not earn your rune today.
The gods’ agreement whispered through the halls.
The ones who had lived before me closed in, ghosts of the past grasping for my soul, wishing to take me to whatever next realm awaited. My hands pressed into the crimson floor when their reaching hands touched every inch of my skin, realms flashing before my eyes: ones made of ice, and ones made of fire, ones with wood and ones with only water.
I shook my head when warring decisions pulled at me, the gods’ uncertainty over where I belonged tugging me in different directions. Long moments passed, and several futures splinteredbefore me, colliding as the Aesir argued over which was more appropriate for my circumstances.
A flare of irritation made my chin lift.
Somehow people had made decisions for me my entire life. The gods. My parents. My friends. Darcke. But now, when that life was to end… that’s when they struggled?
The knife was still there, the runes drawn in blood taunting me.
The gods had known even before I left Oenskan what my fate would be, but they had still let me suffer—let me fight my way through a world that was stronger than I was. They’d taken pleasure in watching me struggle, knowing there would be no reward at the end.
Everyone had laughed at me. Everyone had known.
My father. My mother. Lika. Darcke. The king. The gods.
My hands balled.
The black water around me whirled, and as I leaned over it, my pale reflection stared back at me. There was so much anger and hurt and pain in her face—none of the naivete I’d left my home with. I reached out a hand to erase the girl I’d become, but as soon as a drop of wetness touched my skin, the reflection changed.
