Page 16

I twisted to scan all the ships bobbing on the surface around me. They’d just thrown me overboard, and none of the other executioners would welcome me onto the other boats.

“Lux!” a voice called out, shrieking and almost giddy. “She’s right there.”

I kicked to spin myself around and saw Stasia’s blond hair haloing her face above me. Moonlight struck her with the radiance of an angel, but the determination hardening her cherub face was that of a Valkyrie. Finan stood beside her, arguing with Raven and the other executioners. After a second, he turned his back to them and followed Stasia’s line of sight just over the side of the ship.

“Come, captive,” he growled, his fingers beckoning me forward. “Queen Silver can make use of you.”

I didn’t obey, because what the fuck did that mean? Would Silver offer me to the gods in a sacrifice? Likely. Or would she find a way to kill me herself? Even more likely. But Finan suggested that I was useful, which meant my sister wanted something else from me. What did her army understand that I didn’t?

“Lux,” Stasia said. “The water is getting rough again.” The wind agreed with her as it whipped hair into her face, throwing blonde curls against her mouth like a gagging rope.

Raven argued to let me die as she grabbed ‌Finan’s arm, and he shoved her off. “You idiots don’t understand,” his voice mingled with the slap of water against wood. “Our queen will want that crystal, and it seems her traitorous sister is the only one who can carry it without being burned. Now that we know she has it, she is one of our most useful captives.” He flicked his fingers at me again. “Come.”

Ugh, I really didn’t get what Stasia liked about him. Everything within me recoiled from his demand, but my limbs grew heavier, and I could only tread water for so long. My weak heart shortened that time significantly.

I gripped the crystal tighter, and with my free hand, accepted Finan’s offer. He lifted me out of the water, his muscles tense and thick with the effort, before dropping me into the seat next to Axel again. The captives clustered on the ship's floor, avoiding me as if I were contagious, and I supposed the chill of the water I trailed in was reason enough to avoid me, especially with the hole in the ship already allowing the sea to rush in.

Two executioners set to work fixing it with tar and wool as water forced its way in and sloshed at our feet. They worked rapidly, dipping wool into the black tar and then shoving handfuls of it into the hole until it expanded, sealing the damage and blocking the water.

Stasia dropped into the seat beside me and threw her arms around me, ignoring my icy, soaking skin. She didn’t care that I drenched her trousers and tunic, making her thin clothes cling to her curves, and it didn’t slip my attention that Finan raked a hungry gaze down her torso before he turned and faced an angry Raven.

Raven’s partner hissed at Finan. “What’s your deal with the servant girl?”

Finan said nothing as he stepped forward and let his shoulder slam against the man’s chest.

“Why should we listen to you?” Raven spat after him.

Finan didn’t look at her when he responded with an uninterested, “because you have to.”

“Just because your kill count is higher⁠—”

Finally, he turned on her. “Do you want to make that one count higher? If not, I suggest you shut the fuck up. Kills are the hierarchy of the Grimward, and you will respect your superior.” With a quick look at Stasia, his eyes flashed something I didn’t recognize.

My gaze flicked to her, catching the flush of pink across her angelic cheeks. I hadn’t spent enough time with them to understand their…friction, and I definitely didn’t understand how a sweet cook with the desire to claim the throne fell for a man like Finan. Of course, I didn’t have room to judge considering how much I’d once accepted from Drak, and how little toxicity I recognized in Kayn. But back then, the way the gods toyed with my mind was half to blame.

Despite his role in the Grimward, I had Finan to thank for saving me again. Under the mask and the kills, he was likely a different man before the world of executioners plunged him beneath the surface of morality.

He stalked off with Raven and her partner following him, though not until they shot cruel glances in our direction. Raven’s gaze lingered on the crystal in my hold. My shaking hands gripped it tighter, and the light from within flared. Heat simmered from the crystalline shards and flowed from the smooth, hard surface ‌into my flesh. After a minute, my fingers turned from white to a pale pink as blood returned.

I wrapped my arms around Drak’s soul, bringing it to my chest and soaking every bit of his warmth. From beyond the grave and beyond mortal existence, he was still protecting me, keeping me from freezing.

Axel stood and removed his cloak, draping it over my shoulders without a word. Turning my face up toward him, I mouthed my gratitude and—since the executioners were at the other side of the ship now—I dared to break this silence.

“How is my mother?” I asked, glancing at Reindeer, who gave no indication that he was listening. The slow rise and fall of her chest remained steady, but not even the excitement had woken her.

“She needs a better healer than the one on this ship,” Axel said. “There are several servants at Mara’s Keep who are skilled in healing. If we make it there, they’ll help her.”

I didn’t doubt that the castle housed plenty of healers, but my mother was at her healthiest in Skaldir where her friends tracked the location of each herb to help even the worst ailments, and in the persistent wet chill of my home village, there were all the worst ailments. If only she returned home, I knew she’d thrive again.

Stasia sucked in a quick breath and straightened beside me. “Axel told me the plan once we return to the castle,” she said. I peeled my eyes off my mother and landed my gaze on Axel as he returned to his seat, as impassive as ever with his lips in a flat line and his eyes conveying a deep well of wisdom. He said nothing as Stasia continued. “Finan will help get you to the castle and onto the throne.”

The throne didn’t belong to me, and I didn’t want it, but I needed to claim it for Drak. “I’d rather bring Drak back to dethrone her than sit on it myself. Besides, with Odin’s powers, can I even sit on a throne designed by Loki? He made it specifically to fuck with ‌Odin, right?”

Axel snorted with a rare show of amusement from an otherwise stoic and fatherly man. “So eloquently put, my Queen.”

I smirked at him as Stasia pulled one of my hands from the crystal and cupped it with both of her hands. With all the patience in the world, she smiled. “We’ll do whatever you think is best, but I hope we can bring him back before Silver destroys our home. Axel told me all about her and her vision for Vylheim.”

“To bring back and control the gods,” I said, “I’m aware.”