Sky in the Deep(31)

Without warning, he dipped his head down, took a fish into his mouth and turned. He didn’t look back as he walked, the colors of his thick hide shifting in the light.

Fiske relaxed against me but I still held onto him, feeling like I might fall over. Like the tremors in my legs would send me through the ice. We waited for the bear to get out of sight before we moved. Before we breathed. When Fiske finally let go of my arm, he turned, looking down at me. He stilled, his lips parting as he took a step back, a question in his eyes.

The fish flicked their tails on the ground between us and when I looked back down the bank, the forest was empty. Nothing but tracks were left, winding a trail through the trees.





NINETEEN


In my mind, I traced the path through the forest to the river.

I sat in the corner and ate, looking at the wall.

I kept to myself.

I went about the chores without instruction from Inge.

I obeyed. Like a dyr.

Iri stayed close to me, rarely leaving the house, and I continued to ignore him. When he and Inge spoke about the betrothal, I went to feed the goats. When he offered to help me carry in the firewood, I pushed past him, carrying it on my own.

I dropped to my knees in the garden on the side of the house, working the soil with a small spade and tearing out the dead roots of autumn still trapped beneath the earth. The cold, rocky ground broke beneath my blows and I raked out the garden’s remnants, one plant at a time. Soon, it would be time to sow again. My father would be doing the same, turning manure into our garden and getting it ready for turnips and carrots. I sat up onto my heels, rubbing the place between my eyes with my thumb and looking up to the smear of white clouds stretching across the blue. It seemed impossible that it was the same sky that hung over the fjord. Home felt an entire world away. But it was only snow and ice between me and Hylli.

Across the path, Gyda was hanging clothes over the fence that bordered their garden. On the other side of the house Kerling sat on a tree stump, one hand on his knee, above the missing leg. His pale face turned up toward the sky and the light caught the blond in his beard, making the hairs shine like threads of gold. He’d been sitting there all morning, staring out at the trees. It wasn’t until that moment, seeing him with his eyes closed and the sun on his face, that I remembered him from the journey back up the mountain from Aurvanger. He was one of the men lying in the back of the cart.

Iri’s shadow fell over the broken ground as he came to stand over me.

“Is he your friend?” I asked, still looking at Kerling.

Iri followed my gaze across the path. “He is.” When I didn’t look up, he lowered down onto his haunches and waited, folding his hands together. “Eelyn.”

I brought the spade down with both hands and its edge cracked against a buried rock.

“Look at me.”

When the rock was pried free, I tossed it to the side, almost hitting him.

“I know you’re angry.”

But I wasn’t angry. I was aflame with fury. I was filled with something so dark it was poisoning me from the inside out. I lifted the spade again, pointing it at him. “How could you do it? How could you be here all this time living a new life with a new family?”

He looked down at the ground between us. “I can’t explain—”

“I know about Fiske,” I snapped. “I know he was there that day. That he went over the edge with you.”

He looked around us warily. If there was anyone nearby, they would have heard me. But I didn’t care.

“Tell me what happened.” The tears came back up and it made me even angrier. Because as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t pretend that I wasn’t hurt. I couldn’t hide that I was cut deep with what he’d done.

He sank onto his knees beside me, taking the spade, and started digging. “That day, I got separated from you in the fight. Fiske came out of the trees behind me and opened up my side with the first swing of his sword. You were fighting in the distance. I could barely see you in the fog.”

I stared at the ground, remembering the shine of his blood and the smooth pearly skin where the scar stretched around one entire side of his body.

“I dropped my axe and stumbled forward, trying to hold the wound together. Before I knew it, I was going over the edge. I reached out and caught Fiske’s armor vest and pulled him over with me. I remember hearing you scream. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t make a sound.” He pried another rock from the earth. “When I woke, Fiske was trying to climb the wall with one arm and one leg. He used his knife, fitting it into the cracks of the rock to lift himself, and every time, he fell. He thought I was dead. So did I. I could feel my soul dying. I remember it. I remember every thought that came into my head and every feeling. When night came and I finally closed my eyes, I thought it was the end.” He stopped, staring into the dirt. “But it wasn’t. I woke again and it was morning. I thought I was dreaming. Or maybe that I’d made it to Sólbj?rg. But Fiske was kneeling beside me, packing snow against my wound.” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his arm. “He looked down at me. His face was pale, his eyes red and swollen. He said, ‘We’re not going to die, Aska.’”

I stared at him.

“For two days, he kept me alive. His father found us, and when he called down from the ridge, he swore to me that he wouldn’t leave me behind. And he didn’t. When they pulled us out of that trench, we were brothers. Sigr abandoned me that day, Eelyn. Thora saved my life. I was reborn. I came here to Fela and I didn’t know it for a long time, but I was becoming one of them. Inge became my mother. I fell in love with Runa. Thora honored me. She gave me favor.”