“It doesn’t matter. I’ll stand by you, Ciara. Summoning the army is your choice to make. We’ll fight the j?tnar together.” His smile turned teasing. “I’m not sure what use an army of dead Celts would be anyway.”
I returned his smile in spite of myself, my anger draining away as quickly as it had come. “Then we must return.”
I closed my eyes and sank down within my mind as easily as submerging myself in a bath. The sound of the wind in the trees, the rustle of animals, everything but the sound of my heartbeat disappeared. I could see the doorway, light shining just beyond. With my eyes still shut, I reached for Leif’s hand, felt its calloused warmth strong against my own.
In my mind, the door became as big as a castle’s, the yellow light as bright as sunlight.
I stood upon the threshold with Leif’s hand firmly in my own. The light engulfed me, and I let myself fall.
The sickly sweet scent of rotting flesh was the first sensation to greet me as I stumbled, disoriented and nauseated in a field. A cow’s low came to me on the breeze, and I blinked my bleary eyes. Slowly, Leif came into focus. He was crouched next to me, head down, as though he was as disoriented as I was. Somehow we were clothed in our gifted armor, though I had no memory of putting it on. I leaned on the hilt of my sword.
And then I saw them—what was left of the men we had fought with.
Skeletal fingers lay near me, the meat picked from the bones. A torso just beyond them, ribs exposed, the remaining flesh putrid and covered in flies. I covered my nose as the wind changed direction, blowing the smell of the fallen Northmen toward us. Bones were scattered about as though animals had feasted upon them, though I had my doubts the remains had been set upon by animals at all, having seen what the j?tnar were capable of.
The breeze caused something long and black to flutter upon the rocky ground, and I froze.
Leif came to his feet, and I gripped his arm, my fingers digging into the muscle. I blinked rapidly, tears already obscuring my vision.
“Ciara?” Leif said, but then he saw it, too.
I took one step, and then another, until I fell to my knees beside what remained of my beautiful warhorse. They’d torn him to pieces, the dull gleam of bone so garish against the red of his flesh. His mane had been what caught my attention, attached to his severed head. The eyes were rolled back until only whites showed.
Tears streamed down my face until I could no longer stifle the sobs. I’d had this horse since he was a colt; I’d trained him myself. Losing him was like being exiled all over again, like losing the last piece of my connection to home . . . to Mide. Worse still was the way he was killed. He must have been terrified.
“Forgive me, Sleipnir, forgive me,” I said over and over. Tears burned over my cheeks, falling like rain. I was choking on my words, choking on the sobs in my throat.
Leif placed a firm hand on my shoulder. I trembled as anguish and grief crashed over me. He hauled me to my feet and into his arms, and I held on to him as though he was the only thing keeping me standing. “We’ll gather what’s left of them and build a great pyre,” he said into my hair. “They will have the funeral they deserve.”
He held me until I no longer felt like the grief would pull me under like the tide. Slowly, he disentangled himself from me and walked over to a tree with a trunk only a little bigger than his leg. With a powerful swing, so fast his mystical blade blurred, Leif sliced the sword through the trunk as though it was nothing more than straw.
The tree plummeted to the ground, and we set to work cutting branches from it and gathering enough dried sticks to build the pyre. It was difficult work, and Leif had to guide me in the building of it, as I had never done anything like it before. My body relished the work, and my mind was thankful to have a goal.
Night had fallen by the time we finished.
When only Sleipnir remained to be added to the pyre, Leif stopped me as I bent to retrieve Sleipnir’s head, the tears blurring my vision. “Allow me to do this for you.”
I shook my head. “No, you’ve already gathered the men who you had known and fought beside. I won’t have you bear my grief as well.”
“It’s no burden,” he said, but he stood aside when he saw the determined look in my eyes.
I picked up what was left of Sleipnir and carefully placed it on top of the pyre. Stroking his cheek one more time, I bowed my head. “Forgive me, Sleipnir. You deserved far better than this.”
Leif handed me one of the torches he had lit. His expression grim, he touched the flame to the bottom of the pyre. “Fenris and all the men and j?tnar who have joined with him will be destroyed.”
I added my own flame to the pyre. Soon, the j?tnar would burn, too, and I would be the one to light the fire.
“We must continue on to Mide before we return to Dubhlinn,” I said to Leif as we huddled before the light of our campfire. In the distance, the funeral pyre still burned. Exiled or not, I couldn’t continue without knowing my family was safe. So much time had been lost between when I’d left and now. “I must be sure my sisters are safe. And . . . we will need more horses.”
“And after we reach Dubhlinn?” Leif asked. He turned to look at me, the reflection of the flames in his eyes. “You told me once before that you would only fight this battle in your own land, but now that you know the j?tnar have amassed in the north? What then, Princess?”
Leif and his men would sail on to Skien, leaving the shores of éirinn far behind. I hated the sea. I’d never even been on a boat, much less a Northman longship . . . but I also knew I couldn’t stay here and do nothing.
I met Leif’s gaze, and something squeezed my heart when I saw the worry he wasn’t bothering to hide. He was afraid I’d say I wouldn’t go.
“I will go with you,” I said. “I will see this quest to the end.”
He reached out and pulled me to his chest. His arms wrapped around me like iron bands. “I’m glad you agreed on your own. I would have carried you away by force if you had not.”
I laughed to hide the fact that my heart was now racing erratically in my chest. “You haven’t the strength.”
His heated gaze met mine, and the laughter died in my throat. My traitorous eyes drifted to his full lips. His mouth descended upon mine before I could protest. With both hands, he cradled my face, his tongue teasing my lips until I opened them.
Our tongues met, and the reaction within me was like the sudden flash of lightning. I wanted to tear his chain mail from his body, to run my fingers over the smooth skin beneath. The pull of lustful desire was so strong, I shook with it. As heat built inside me, my mind sought to remind me this was a man who had no right to touch me so familiarly, who was a Northman, but I was deaf to it all. His fingers trailed down my neck, leaving burning heat in their wake.
More, I thought, deepening the kiss.
I had never been kissed before—no man would dare.
I do not ask, he had said, I take.
I shouldn’t have enjoyed it. But I did.
“Finally,” Leif said as he trailed kisses down my neck. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
I tilted my head to give him better access, a small sound escaping me as his lips touched the sensitive skin. But just at that moment, the flames from the funeral pyre caught my attention, and I stiffened. The acrid stench of burning flesh wafted toward me. Gently, I pushed against him and leaned back. “This is wrong. We shouldn’t do this while the men who fought beside us burn close enough for me to feel the flames.”
Leif appraised me with heavy eyelids. “Was it so terrible kissing me, then?”
I felt heat rise from my core all the way to my cheeks in a flush. “No.”
“Shall I try again?” he asked, his gaze raising my temperature still more.
Yes. “No.”