The Girl the Sea Gave Back(39)

I closed my eyes against the pain in the center of my forehead. The vision of the Nādhir before the gate was still sharp in my mind. His bloodied axe, his hand pressed to his side. What I’d seen had been real, but it still felt like a dream. And now that it was coming to pass, the knot between my ribs wound tighter, the prick of tears springing up in my eyes.

The sound of shouting brought me back to my feet and I searched the little bit of the village that was visible, but it was too dark. There was only moving shadow and shifting smoke. I fixed my gaze on the doors of the ritual house, my fingers tangled into one another until my fingernails bit into my skin. When another man screamed, Gunther sighed beside me.

“Go back.” He looked to Jorrund. “Tell Vigdis to send more men.” He ran down the slope with his sword at his side and Jorrund ran into the trees, leaving me alone.

But still, the Nādhir didn’t appear beneath the gate.

My heart raced over each breath as I watched Jorrund disappear in the darkness. I looked over my shoulder, to the village. In the vision, he was there. He was right there.

I walked down the hill with my skirt twisted in my sweaty fists and stopped, almost stumbling forward as a figure burst out of the smoke. I froze, my breath bound up in my chest and I held it until it burned.

Without thinking, the word left my trembling lips. “You.”

The sound that had found me in the glade crashed in my pounding head like an angry ocean, making me feel as if I was tipping to one side. I tried to steady myself, meeting his eyes and letting them anchor me. Because those same blue eyes were looking at me again. Right at me.

“Are you…” He stared at me, hand pressed into the wound at his side. Blood seeped between his fingers as he spoke between heavy breaths. “Are you really here?”

But I could barely hear him over the swarm of bees in my head. The sound swelled with each heartbeat.

“I saw you. In the forest.”

I closed my eyes, wincing against the pain in my skull, and when I opened them again, the sight of him wavered.

“Who are you?” His eyes ran over my face. “What are you doing with the Svell?”

I opened my mouth to speak before I realized there really was no answer. I was a Kyrr castoff with no people and no home. I was the daughter of no one, used by a clan that I shared no blood with. There was no explanation for it. No way to make sense of it. It just … was.

Suddenly, he was moving, closing the distance between us and his shadow fell over me before his bloodied hands wrapped around my throat, squeezing. I lifted up onto my toes and my fingers found his wrists. I held onto him, the breath burning in my chest, and I could see that even if he didn’t know who I was, he knew what I was. He stared at the mark below my throat, his gaze moving over my skin before he looked back up at me. I pulled at his hands, trying to draw breath, but he didn’t budge. The ache in my head began to fade as I looked up into his eyes. Because they were still fixed on mine. Tears glistened at their corners, catching the moonlight, and as he pulled in a short breath, one rolled down his rough cheek.

He looked right into me as the roar of the rushing water exploded all around us, and at first, I thought it sounded familiar. Like I’d heard it before. Somewhere deep in the memories the storm that had brought me across the fjord had washed away. They took shape, curling and twisting around pieces I recognized. I blinked, trying to listen as the darkness crept in around me, his grip tightening. My hands went cold around his wrists and I searched the sounds, trying to place them.

And suddenly, it settled. It wasn’t buzzing or bees or the crush of water or the crackle of ice. It was the sound of voices.

Whispers.

“Naer.”

The voices suddenly vanished, like a lit torch dropped in water, and the Kyrr man I’d seen at the glade appeared behind the Nādhir, his wide eyes set on mine.

“Stop, Halvard.”

The Nādhir dropped me and I fell to the ground, choking. The burn raced down my throat as I gasped in the cold air, the feeling returning to my hands as I reached up, pulling the neck of my tunic closed.

The Kyrr man looked down at me, his breath fogging out between us. The mark of a fish wrapped around his throat, the tail disappearing into his tunic. He was older than me by many years, but the way he looked at me was familiar. It felt close.

“You know me,” I whispered, studying his face. Trying to place it. Some part of me knew him, too.

“I didn’t think it could be true.” His voice was only a breath.

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t find words. I couldn’t reach the memories that were hovering above my thoughts, just out of reach. As shouting came from the forest, both men looked up, over my head.

“What couldn’t be true?” I got to my feet, my fingers still cradling my aching throat.

The Kyrr man didn’t answer. His eyes changed then, the sharp point of his stare softening. He looked almost … sad.

Voices called out in the night and I turned back to where the Svell were coming from the trees on the other side of the village.

“Give me your axe,” I said, looking to the man he’d called Halvard.

He stared at my hand outstretched before him. “What?”

“Give me your axe!” I reached up, pulling it from his grip. “You have to run.”

The Kyrr man looked at me for another silent moment before he disappeared, but Halvard didn’t move. The light in his eyes changed, the pulse at his neck jumping beneath the skin. “Why are you helping us?”