My dreams were full of violence. The Morrigan, tearing into the hound’s heart; Alana with her throat cut before my eyes; and even Leif’s sister, Finna, though I’d never seen her before, visited my dreams, her body gruesomely mangled.
In my dream, I watched as Leif wept over her broken body, and my own heart bled for him. I went to him as I couldn’t do in life, running my hand over his golden head. He turned and took me into his arms, and I closed my eyes, listening to the strong beat of his heart. I pulled back to look at him, and just as his mouth was descending upon mine, I saw the red glow in his chest—the same I’d seen when I had floated above my body.
Before I could react to the fact that I was dreaming about Leif kissing me, he disappeared. Dark mist poured into the room in his place, and the Morrigan stepped forward. She wore a headdress of black crows’ feathers, but the rest of her figure was obscured by fog.
Find the Northman’s seer. There is a power you must master before you can complete your journey. The enemy is closer than you think. Every moment you waste brings them closer to their goal.
What power? I tried to ask, but in the way of dreams, the Morrigan had disappeared as quickly as she’d come.
The resounding boom of thunder awoke me, accompanied by the shouts of men. I sat up in the wide bed, my eyes adjusting to the low light of a fire burning cheerily in the massive stone fireplace. The Morrigan’s words echoed in my mind, and I knew it was more than just a dream. Was she referencing my newfound ability to float outside my body? I failed to see how that was a power—it seemed more like a liability, especially in battle. If she meant that I needed to learn to control it so it didn’t happen when I wasn’t ready, then I agreed. It could mean my death if I lost control of myself at the wrong moment. I shivered thinking of the rest of the Morrigan’s message. The enemy is closer than you think. Leif’s men had said before that their company included a seer, and though I hadn’t met her when we first arrived, I had to believe she was in the castle somewhere.
Still dressed in the beautiful emerald-green gown Aideen had given me, I came to my feet slowly, and though the room seemed to tilt for a moment, everything righted itself after a few deep breaths. Again the thunderous boom came. Fully conscious now, I recognized it wasn’t thunder at all, but the sound of tankards banging on wooden tables. The roar of drunken men rang out beneath my room. Would the seer be among them?
Only one way to find out.
I touched the sheathed dagger I’d strapped to my forearm before going to sleep. Leif’s warning whispered through my mind, and for a moment I shamed myself by hesitating. Fear wouldn’t keep me prisoner here, and neither would Leif.
The guest quarters in which I found myself were located in one of the turrets over the great room. A winding stone staircase led me down, and I yanked the heavy velvet skirt of my gown higher as I went. This was one of the many reasons I only ever wore my soft leather leggings. Gowns, though beautiful, were much too cumbersome.
The moon hung low in the sky; it was late, much too late for such revelry. I followed the low sounds of male voices until I walked through two enormous wooden doors. The cavernous hall was in such disarray, I was immediately thankful the king wasn’t here, for he would surely throw us from his castle. Scraps of food littered every available surface; spilled goblets, empty plates, and the carcass of a pig were scattered as though hounds had been set free. But even that wasn’t as chaotic a sight as the men, who lay across the tables in a state of total unconsciousness, guzzled great tankards of ale or mead, or played a game upon a carved wooden board.
In the chaos, it was difficult to find anyone, but it quickly became clear from the room full of burly men that the seer wasn’t here. I’d have to find Leif instead and see if he knew where to find her. But among so many men of enormous stature and blond hair, I had to search the room several times before I found Leif. He sat at the head of the table where the game was played. Enthralled as they all were with their various activities, no one took note of me.
With a determined set to my chin, I strode toward Leif. Before I could reach his table, though, a great bear of a man stood in my way. He licked his lips as he boldly stared at me, mead dripping from his beard.
“Ah, the wench is lonely,” he said with a lascivious sneer. “Come down from her tower for a tumble.”
My first instinct was to backhand him, but I stayed my hand. There was more than lust in his eyes, something more akin to bloodlust, and I would do well to be on my guard. “If you lay hands on me, I will ensure you never do so again.” I shifted to the balls of my feet, ready to move should he lunge for me.
As though I’d shouted, my comparatively high female voice drew the attention of every Northman in the room—save those who had already fallen into a drunken stupor. At the head of his table, Leif stirred, but I could spare him only the briefest glance. My full attention was on the Northman before me.
The man’s grin widened. “It is widely known that a spirited female is worth the effort.” He leaned forward until I nearly choked on the smell of his filthy, braided beard. “Much more fun when she’s finally broken.”
With surprising speed for one so large, his hand darted out. I dodged, but my cursed skirts tangled about my legs. He pressed me against the table, the wood digging into my back. A shout came from across the room, but neither the man nor I paid it any heed. I unsheathed my dagger and slashed it across his cheek.
His nostrils flared like a bull’s, and his eyes narrowed to slits, but he backed away. I tightened my grip on my dagger.
“You’ll pay for that, spawn of Loki,” he said in a snarl. “I’ll tear your gown from your body and have you here on the floor.”
As though I’d been stabbed with a burning blade, intense rage shot through me. He charged, and I held my dagger loosely, as Leif’s brief training had taught me. I would geld him like a horse; he would never threaten a woman again.
Before the Northman could reach me, Leif stepped in front of the rampaging Northman, his legs spread bracingly. “Ulric,” Leif said, his voice deadly, “stop now, or by Thor, I will kill you where you stand.”
Ulric halted, but his small eyes flashed with a burning hate. “Curse you, Leif. If you will deny me my rights, then I will cut you down.”
Leif’s countenance darkened murderously. “You have no rights to claim. She is an ally, which you well know.” He took a step forward. “And I do not take threats lightly.”
The scene was like that of a wolf challenging its alpha. A dark cloud of impending violence seemed to descend upon the hall. Those still conscious watched the interplay between the two men with growing anticipation, and I tensed, prepared for battle.
Ulric answered Leif by pulling an axe free from its fastenings on his back.
“So be it,” Leif said, and shot forward before Ulric could even lift the heavy axe.
He struck Ulric beneath his chin so hard his neck snapped back. Ulric swung his axe, but Leif struck him again and again in the face until blood sprayed from his nose. Leif’s blows were as fast as viper strikes and utterly merciless. Again, Ulric swung his axe. Leif dodged, and the axe split one of the long wooden tables in two.
Many of the men roared their approval, but I could only watch in grim silence.
Ulric charged again, axe raised, but Leif had grabbed a knife. He met Ulric’s charge with a powerful upward thrust of the blade. It lodged in Ulric’s heart, and the Northman fell to his knees. The axe clattered to the floor. After drawing one last struggling breath, the rest of Ulric’s body followed.
My heartbeat thudded in my ears as I stared in disbelief at the dead Northman at our feet. I had expected this to end with Ulric felled into unconsciousness, not death.
“Get this failed usurper from my sight,” Leif said, a look of disgust twisting his features. “Burn the body.”