I was alone when I opened my eyes. The thin blue light of morning seeped between the wooden boards above me in the barn. I sat up on the table and the throbbing began, making me tremble. I reached my hand beneath my tunic and gently touched the hot, inflamed hole in my shoulder. Below it, new stitches were sewn into the gash in my arm. I rolled my wrists on each other, feeling the raw, pink skin pull sharply where the rope had been.
My bare feet found the cold ground and I slid off the table to stand. My boots were sitting neatly on top of my armor next to the empty fire pit. The little idol of Iri I had tucked into my vest stood on the table next to me. I picked it up, running my thumb over the small face, and blinked, seeing him in the fog again. Feeling that lightning strike in my soul. That Iri was alive. And not just alive. He’d betrayed us. All of us.
The boy I’d shared my childhood with. The boy I’d fought side by side with. He was worse than any enemy. And the blood we shared was now poison in my veins.
Through the planks on the walls, I could see the silent Riki village stretch out down the slope, covered in a shallow snowfall. The deep green of pine trees reached up behind the houses like a thick wall.
I fought with my boots, grinding my teeth against the pain coming from the entire left side of my body. My ribs were stabbing again from the fall off the horse. Maybe rebroken. I made my way to the door and lifted the latch gently with my finger but when I pushed, the door wouldn’t open; it was barred from the outside. I huddled down into the corner, wrapping my arms around myself and tucking my injured arm into my side tightly. I waited.
The village slowly came to life with the sounds of livestock calling for their breakfast and iron pots swinging on wooden rails over morning fires. The smell of toasted grains filled the air and my stomach ached. I closed my eyes and tried to push down the nausea boiling in my belly.
Iri’s voice found me in the dark room after hours of sitting in the damp cold. The door opened, swinging out and pulling the daylight in. A gray-haired man wearing a clean black tunic stepped inside. He was too old to have been fighting in Aurvanger. His eyes surveyed me, crouched in the corner like a frightened animal.
“Is she even of use?” His lips moved behind his thick beard. “Runa says she had an arrow in her yesterday.”
Iri stepped in behind him, ducking beneath the low doorframe and setting a bundle of firewood onto the floor. He was clean, his hair rebraided and his clothes fresh. “She looks strong. She’s an Aska warrior.”
He said something else I couldn’t hear over the thoughts racing through my mind, like wind inside my head. Iri with the Riki. Iri acting like my captor.
The old man’s eyes ran over me, thinking. “Runa also told me how she got that arrow in her.”
The irritation in Iri’s eyes wasn’t hidden when they finally landed on me. “Fiske took her down.”
“She’d probably just spend the whole winter trying to escape.” The man shook his head. “No one will want her. I think it’s best to get some coin for her when the traders from Ljós come in a few days.”
I stood, keeping my back to the wall. The pain in my arm spread into my chest as I looked from Iri to the old man.
He went back out into the snow and my lip curled up as I set my furious gaze on Iri. “Trade me? To who?” I whispered.
He pulled the latch, clicking it into place, and set the fire-steel onto the table. “One of the other Riki villages.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I’d planned to keep you here through winter, until I could get you off the mountain.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “But you’ve made a mess of this, Eelyn.”
“I made a mess of it? You’re the one who brought me here!”
“Quiet.” He looked out the crack in the door.
The blood in my body seethed, pushing through my veins and waking me up. “You’re the one who abandoned your people and your god to serve our enemy, Iri.”
His eyes snapped back to me and he made the distance between us fast, taking me by the tunic and pulling me toward him. “The Aska abandoned me. Left me for dead. The Riki saved my life.”
I pushed him away with my uninjured arm and snatched the idol up from the table. I threw it at him. “I have mourned you every day for five years.” The wave of it hit me, threatening to knock me down. “And you’ve been here the whole time! You haven’t even asked about Aghi!”
Iri froze, the tension in his face falling and revealing something fragile, ready to break.
“My father.” I took another step toward him, my voice shaking.
He looked to the ground. “Our father.” His jaw clenched and the room fell silent. “I was afraid of what you might tell me.”
“He’s alive, Iri. He was fighting in Aurvanger. And he’d be ashamed to call you his son if he knew the truth.”
He shook his head, refusing to fight me. “Do you think he’ll come for you?”
“If I’m not back after the thaw, he’ll come looking.”
His eyes moved to the idol on the ground. “Did you tell him I’m alive?”
My father running across the field toward me, his eyes glittering with fear, flashed in my mind. “I tried to. He didn’t believe it. He thought Sigr had sent your soul to me.”
Iri seemed suddenly far away, his eyes looking off into the dark corner of the room. “Maybe he did.”
“Sigr didn’t do this, Iri. Thora did.” My voice flattened, my eyes narrowing. “You’ve killed your own people. What will you do when you die? You’ll be separated from us forever!” The words buckled under the weight of their meaning. Even as I’d grieved for Iri, I always believed I’d see him again. That we’d all be together one day. But Sigr would never allow him to enter Sólbj?rg. Not after what he’d done.
“You don’t understand.” His voice lost the last of its anger. He dragged his fingers through the scruff on his jaw before he picked up the idol from the ground, turning it over in his hand. “I saw you and…”
I leaned into the wall, trying to hold myself up as I watched the thoughts move over his face.
“I saw you and I thought I was about to watch you die. I thought my heart was going to stop beating inside of my chest.” He swallowed hard, the place between his eyebrows wrinkling.
It wasn’t what I was expecting him to say. The heat in my face pushed up, leaking out of my eyes. The tears stung in the cold. “We thought you were dead, Iri. We tried to get down into the trench for your body. We tried to…” I swallowed down the words. There was no undoing it. “We have to leave. We have to get back to the fjord.”
His eyes shifted around the room. “I can’t.”
“Why?” I studied him, my voice rising again.
“I have to find a way to convince them to take you as a dyr.”
“No!” My voice filled the room, ringing in my ears.
“Quiet! If anyone knows I’m talking to you like this…” He sighed. “If they trade you, you’re on your own. You won’t make it back to the Aska. We have a couple of days before the traders from Ljós come. I’ll figure something out.”
I thought of my father, his blue eyes looking into me, heavy and wide with shame. I could feel the weight of a dyr collar around my neck.
“You know I can’t become a dyr, Iri. I’ll never be accepted into Sólbj?rg.” I couldn’t believe he would even suggest it. “I’ll take my own life before I let that happen.”
It was what we’d been taught our entire lives—vegr yfir fjor—honor above life.
He leveled his eyes at me, his voice dropping low. “If you take your own life, you’ll leave our father alone in this world. But if you forfeit your pride and wait out the winter, you’ll be back with him after the thaw. You’ll go back to the Aska and earn back your honor.”