Sky in the Deep(62)

When they dismissed us, my father led us through the sleeping camp to a place along the cliff wall that was separated by an outcropping of rock. Down the bank, the Aska leaders continued to argue in the torchlight. Their bent, exhausted whispers rose up over the sound of the water.

“You can sleep here.” My father handed Fiske one of the rolled woven mats he was carrying. “We leave at daybreak.”

He turned to leave and I followed him around the sharp section of rock that cut into the water. “I’m staying here.” I swallowed, trying to sound sure. Calm.

He turned on his heel, facing me. “What?”

“He can’t sleep alone out here. He’ll be dead by morning.”

His eyes moved over me slowly. Reading me. He, Iri, and Myra were the only people who could do that.

“I’ve been travelling with him for days. He’s not a threat to me. And if he becomes one, I can take care of myself.”

He hesitated. “What is this, sváss?”

“We need him to get back to Fela. To meet with the Riki.” I sighed. “Trust me. Please.”

His hand reached out for me and I saw his eyes drop to the scars on my neck again before he pulled me into his arms. “Alright.”

The angry throb in my shoulder swelled as he tightened his hold. I leaned into his big frame, letting the familiar smell of him fill me. It made me think of the fighting season, hunkered down together in our tent every night in Aurvanger.

He handed me the other mat rolled beneath his arm. And then he walked into the dark, toward the huts, without looking back. He’d always trusted me completely. But I could feel that faith wavering, threatening to give way to suspicion. I came back around the outcropping and unrolled the mat on the sand. The silence that had fallen between Fiske and me since the night we stayed in Hylli was still there. Every glance and unspoken word echoed within it.

“You should go with him.”

I reached into the back of my belt and pulled his knife from where it was tucked under my tunic. I held it out to him.

He looked at it. “Am I going to need this?”

“I hope not.” If something happened and Fiske killed an Aska, it would be my responsibility. And it would be the end of any hope to join together.

He stepped toward me but instead of reaching for the knife, his hand landed on my wrist. His fingers wrapped around my arm and my pulse quickened. “You need to be careful.” The fever building under my skin burned where he was touching me. “If the Aska think you’re protecting me, they won’t trust you.” His fingers pressed deeper. “You need them to trust you, Eelyn. We both do.”

I looked down at his hand on me and then up to his face. It brought that moment in Aurvanger back so vividly. The moment I first saw him, standing in the fog, his sword drawn.

“Why did you come?” I whispered, asking again.

“The same reason you just told your father that you were sleeping here.” He took another step closer and every muscle in my body tightened, waiting. “You don’t really want to know why.” His hand slid down my arm to the knife and he took it, reaching behind him to tuck it into his belt. “And right now, it doesn’t matter.”

He was right. I wasn’t ready to hear him say it. I wasn’t even ready to let myself think it. I didn’t have the room in my thoughts for trying to figure out what it meant and all that it would bring. Because we could all be dead in the next few days.

“You didn’t tell them about Iri.” He looked back out at the water as I settled onto my mat.

“I couldn’t.”

“You’ll have to.”

“I know,” I whispered.

*

Little faces peered over the rock at me as I turned over, waking. When I looked up, they hopped down, running down the bank and kicking up sand around them.

Fiske crouched down, splashing water onto his face and looking up and down the shore. The water was calmer this morning and now I could see that the river was wide. Wider than any I had ever seen. On each side, tall cliff faces rose up above small sandy banks.

I sat up and leaned forward to see that the stretch of overhang was actually longer than I’d thought it was and every inch of the sand beneath it was in use. Shelters, nets, fires, worktables. A large rectangle had been chiseled out of the wall and bows, arrows, swords, and knives hung side by side in orderly rows. Farther down, small wooden boats were suspended from the ceiling by rope systems that ran back to the wall and were staked into the ground. It was hard to find, and anyone trying to attack would either have to cross the river or come down over the cliff. It was a perfect hiding place.

And that thought was painful. The Aska were hiding. A strong and fierce people, now reduced to the shadows.

“It’s impressive, what they’ve done here.” Fiske wiped the water from his face, looking up at the overhang. He stood, holding a hand out to pull me to my feet.

Down the bank, a group of women walked up the shore dragging lines of fish behind them with their eyes on us.

“We should go,” I said, my voice still hoarse with sleep.

My father and Myra walked down the edge of the water toward us with Hagen and two others when we came around the outcropping. A man with long hair braided away from his face smiled, holding out a small loaf of bread. I took it when Fiske didn’t, breaking it in half and giving a piece to him. He hesitated before he took it from me.