Viljan stepped up beside me, keeping his distance. Facing the tall drop, where water rushed down so forcefully drops peppered the cliffs all around the fall, he lowered his voice even further. “Fuck your mother.”
My eyes drew his way as if he’d spelled me.
The muscle in his jaw worked. “She’s never believed in you. You arestrong. You have skill.” He reached out as if to place a hand on my shoulder, but at the last second he closed his fist, his mouth drawing into a rare smile—I could count on one hand how many times I’d seen it. “You are loyal and kind and thoughtful, and above all you are clever. Lika was many things, but he was never as cunning as you. How many times did you escape me growing up?” The corners of his mouth hiked higher. “Your father scolded me all the time for losing sight of you, but I knew he was secretly proud. You know how to get yourself out of situations, Elvara. Lika had nothing on you there. You can do this your own way.”
“You’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead,” I mumbled as my cheeks burned.
“I doubt Lika would come for me for it,” Viljan said. “There are so many other things he could take me out for.”
I frowned at that, but the next second Ottoh called out from below, “If none of you cowards are jumping, can you come down and serve me some ale?”
“I hate him,” I said.
“You’re not alone.” Viljan waved his hand toward the ledges. “If you were planning on going next, you probably need to hurry.”
Ivren had taken the ledge right above Geord, while Rakkel made her way onto the one beneath me. When he noticed me, Ivren cupped his mouth with his hands and called, “Should we do it together?”
I rolled my eyes as I inched forward.
The water broke the moon’s reflection, the swirls taunting me with their playful ripples.
“Come on, Sweengard,” Ivren called. “I’ll make sure you get up again.”
“I can’t do this,” Rakkel whined over the wind. “I don’t like heights, and I might be the best fucking sailor out there, but I don’t like swimming.”
“You won’t have to if we hit any hidden rocks,” I tried to joke.
It wasn’t particularly funny, but a small part of me warmed when Rakkel still snickered.
“Fuck!” Geord’s scream was emphasized by the thudding of his boots. Silence enveloped the night as he ran blindly toward the edge. His feet touched air, and he tumbled off.
His cry reverberated across the water as he spun in the air.
Viljan and I winced when he hit the surface face-first before disappearing beneath it.
“That’s what he gets for taking the lowest one,” Rakkel said as the rings around his vanishing body grew larger.
Geord didn’t take as long as Ottoh to surface, and when he did, he didn’t bother gloating but swam swiftly to the shore, where a few of the karls dragged him onto the ground.
He remained there on his back as Ivren shouted, “It is a competition, girls. I’m sorry!”
Ivren’s jump was more elegant. His raven hair flew around his face, and he even managed a wave before heformed his body into an arrow, diving through the water almost without disturbing it at all.
A scowl marred Rakkel’s face. “I really don’t want to,” she admitted.
“Neither do I.” I shook my head. “But they survived, so I guess we will too.”
“A girl can hope.” When Rakkel grinned gravely before inching closer to the edge, I moved as well.
My heart thudded so loudly it thundered through the night, and I wiped my clammy hands on my leathers as Ivren got himself out of the water.
“You should go,” Rakkel called, her voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
I didn’t have time to respond before the crowd began chanting into the night.
“Jump.”
“Jump.”
