Sky in the Deep(43)

“If they wanted to kill him, they would have done it in Fela. The Herja take people when they raid. You know that.”

But he also knew why. If the stories were true. The Herja sacrificed the ones they captured. We’d found the blood-drained bodies in the forest after they came to Hylli.

He looked at me, the same thought like a storm on his face. A long breath pushed between his lips and he set his forehead against the tree, closing his eyes.

“We can get to him, but we can’t get the others,” I whispered. “There are too many of them.”

He looked at the snow, thinking. “We’ll take Halvard. We’ll come back for the others.”

I nodded. “And then we’ll kill every last one of them.”





TWENTY-SEVEN


We stayed low, cutting east and heading down the slope parallel to the Herja as they moved deeper into the forest. The cold found its way through my armor as we crept closer and I kept my eyes on Halvard, being pulled by the black horse at the rear. When the line had spread enough that they were falling behind, I stopped, pointing in the right direction.

The moonlight came through the trees and lit Halvard’s face in a quick flash. His nose looked broken, a stream of blood pouring down onto his tunic. I winced against the sting behind my eyes. Probably his first broken bone. Maybe his first glimpse of violence and the life the rest of us lived.

As soon as Fiske caught sight of his brother, he tensed, almost launching himself forward. I grabbed hold of his arm, lowering him back down to the ground. But he was all angles and sharp edges, his eyes strained. The construction of his face shifted and pulled, sending my heart into my stomach. He was afraid. And it looked so foreign on him.

I let my fingers wrap around his arm, squeezing, and he came back into himself, pulling his eyes from Halvard’s shadowed form and setting them on me. He sunk back down, slowing his breaths, and I held his gaze until I knew he wouldn’t fly down the slope swinging his sword.

We were far enough ahead to see Halvard as he struggled to keep up with the horse, stumbling along the trail with his fingers hooked into the rope around his neck to keep the sliding knot from tightening. If he fell, it would choke him.

A woman was tied beside him and they walked alongside the bloodied body being dragged over the trail. Whoever it was, they were dead.

We didn’t move. We didn’t make a sound.

I searched for a stone on the ground and when I’d found one about the size of my palm, I stood.

Fiske’s hand caught my wrist, stopping me. “I should go.”

“I’ve got him, Fiske,” I whispered. I was smaller and faster, less easily seen. As soon as he came out of the brush, they’d spot him.

He looked at me for another moment before he let me go, and I lifted one foot. I moved slowly, avoiding the patches of light on the forest floor. Fiske followed behind me with one hand pressed to my back.

The clouds moved overhead and darkened the forest again as the horse neared us. Fiske pulled the knife from his belt, sinking down, and I raised the rock in my hand. As soon as the next group of Herja passed, I swung my arm back and flicked my wrist, sending the rock skidding over the brush between the trees, like it was skipping on water. It crossed in front of the horse and the animal reared up, its nostrils flaring.

Halvard steadied himself against a tree and the horse stamped the ground nervously as the other Herja continued down the path. I slipped my knife from its sheath.

The two Herja walking behind caught up, one of them taking the reins and clicking his tongue to calm the animal. “Cut that one free.” He nodded toward the dead Riki on the ground.

I took one step as the second man obeyed, crouching down to saw at the rope with the blade of his axe. The riggings rattled and I cut left, going wide around the horse to across the path still shrouded in darkness. Ahead, the Herja still moved down the slope.

I came up on the first man’s side fast. By the time he heard me, it was too late. I leapt up, hooking my arm around his neck and pulling the knife across his throat until blood spurted out in a pulsing stream. Fiske dropped the other man beside him and Halvard’s eyes found us in the dark. He instantly began to cry.

Down the path, more Herja were coming.

“Shh.” I reached him, cutting through the rope in one motion and shoving him toward Fiske. He picked Halvard up and the boy’s arms and legs wrapped around him as he started back up the slope.

Then I saw her.

Standing on the trail, with a rope around her neck, the Tala was watching me. I stopped, looking around us. The forest was still quiet except for the footsteps of three Herja coming closer. And she stood there, like she knew what I was going to do. I wanted to leave her tied to that horse like she’d left me. Until she was the next body dragging over the forest floor. I wanted to punish her. But there was something knowing in her eyes. Calm. Like she’d been waiting for me.

Before I could think, I turned the knife over in my hand and threw it to her, handle first, and she caught it. Her gaze was still heavy on me as I pivoted on my heel and a few seconds later, I could hear her following behind, falling into step with me as I caught up to Fiske on the slope.

We got low again, watching the men catch sight of the horse. As their voices grew louder, I reached back toward the Tala and she placed the knife into my open hand. I sat up on my knees, taking a breath and squaring my shoulders before I lifted the knife up to my sight line. I aimed, taking my time, and then let my arm sink back, sending it forward with a snap.