Sky in the Deep(57)

A splash sounded over the whisper of the wind and I looked up to see Fiske. He stood on the dock at the other end of the beach, pulling a net full of fish up out of the water. He had his knife between his teeth, his arms hinging against its weight, leaning back until it slid onto the dock. The fish were like crystals, glittering as they flicked back and forth in the sunlight.

When he looked up to me, I blushed, still feeling the warmth of him on my lips. Remembering him touching me. Remembering feeling like I was so small that I could vanish into him. It was an arrow in my chest.

I walked along the water’s edge until I reached the dock and watched him pull four fish from the net and let the rest spill back into the water. He walked to meet me halfway, stopping in front of me with the knife clutched in one hand and a pail in the other.

The hair blew around my face and I caught it with my hand, holding it over my shoulder. “I’m sorry.” I squinted against the sunlight.

His eyes searched mine. “For what?”

I looked down at the water, trying to find the words. “For last night.”

He smiled and the heat came back up into my face.

“I—”

“How long will it take to get to Virki?” he interrupted, saving me the embarrassment of finishing.

“We can be there tomorrow morning if we leave now.”

He nodded, looking over me, to the village. “Then let’s go.”

I should have told him that he didn’t have to come. That he’d repaid whatever debt he thought he owed me twice over. But inside, I was weak enough that I couldn’t hide from myself.

I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want him to leave.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and I turned against the wind, watching his shadow move next to mine on the ground as we walked. We climbed the beach and made our way back onto the path. I led us back to the house, feeling a chill run up my spine as I ducked into the doorway, headed for our saddlebags. The scream froze in my throat as the head of an arrow lifted in front of my face. Red hair glowed in the dark and the creak of the bowstring pulled tight.

Myra.

Aiming for Fiske.

“No!” I wheezed, throwing myself forward. I plowed into her as her fingers slipped from the bowstring.

The arrow hit and I scrambled over Myra to look. Fiske stood in the doorway, his eyes wide, holding the pail of fish up in front of him. It swung from the handle on his fingers with the arrow plunked into its side.

I could see his mind racing, his hand going for the sword at his hip.

Myra shoved me aside and I rolled into the stone circling the fire pit. The muscle in my shoulder ripped away from the bone and I groaned as Myra shot up from the ground with her axe in her hand. Ash clouded the air as she grunted, swinging it to catch Fiske in the neck, but he flung himself back, falling into the wall. The house shook around us.

“Myra!” I grabbed for her leg but I could hardly see, choking on the dust.

She ignored me, swinging again, and then Fiske was after her, pushing off the wall and catching her by the neck with his hand. She dropped the axe, clawing at his grip as he pushed her into the opposite wall. Her small body flailed against his strength.

“Stop.” I pushed against him but he didn’t budge. “Let her go!”

He looked at me from the corner of his eye before his fingers unwound from her neck and he replaced them with the knife clutched in his fist.

She stilled, looking from him to me.

“Fiske.”

“Who else is here?” He bent over her with the blade still pressing into her skin.

Her eyes flitted back to me, her jaw clenching.

I reached up slowly and put my hand over his. “Let her go.”

“Who is she?”

“She’s my friend.”

Myra looked at me wide-eyed as he lowered the knife and the tears spilled over before I could reach her. She threw her arms around me and her cries muffled into my hair as I held her, looking over her shoulder to Fiske. He stood half-lit in the shadows, sliding his knife back into his belt.

“How are you here?” Her words tripped over one another. “What are you doing here?” She pushed me back, looking up at me. The faded kol around her eyes dragged down her wet cheeks.

I bit my lip, trying to decide how much to tell her. How much she could understand. “I was captured at Aurvanger. I came when I heard what happened.”

“How did you get off the mountain before the thaw?”

I nodded to Fiske.

She dragged her palms over her face and her breaths slowed. “Why?”

But none of that mattered. I leveled my eyes at her, bracing myself as I spit the word out. “Is he dead?”

“No.” She took hold of my wrist, squeezing. “He’s alive. He’s in Virki.”

I looked back at Fiske, the smile breaking onto my face as I leaned over, putting my hands on my knees to steady myself. “How many? How many survived?”

Her face turned grave and the house went quiet with it.

“Most died. Maybe forty from our village survived. And some were captured.”

I sank back on the stone, trying to stop the spinning. The world was moving around me in blurred, colorless lines. I shook my head, trying to cut her words from the truth. “Your family?”

She didn’t answer, her face stone.