A Fate Inked in Blood (Saga of the Unfated, #1)

They’d never make it in time.

Feeling as though I watched myself from afar, I took my place next to the ram, Bjorn ahead of me and Bodil behind. My shield was dead weight in my left hand, kept low until we needed it, my magic hidden until the final moment.

“Ahead,” Snorri ordered from where he stood near the front, and those supporting the ram strained with effort as we broke into a slow jog across the field between the forest and the wall. Our feet thundered as we crossed the bridge, and a bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face as I took in the countless sharpened stakes below.

“Shields!” Snorri called as the archers on the wall lifted their weapons, and I lifted my shield, interlocking it with those to either side of me. The air filled with a soft hiss, and a heartbeat later arrows thudded into the shields above our heads. One punched through Bjorn’s shield, the tip stopping just shy of his shoulder, and I had to clench my teeth to keep from calling forth my magic to protect him.

“Hold,” Snorri shouted as if sensing my thoughts. As though he knew I was on the brink of giving myself away. “Hold!”

Someone near the front of the ram screamed, the tree trunk dipping as those holding it stumbled over the man who’d fallen. My stomach twisted as I stepped over the body.

Don’t look down, I ordered myself. Don’t do anything that might make you fall!

“Hold!” Snorri roared as we drew closer, now near enough that I could see the faces of those manning the walls. Their grim determination and fear as they dipped their arrowheads in pitch and set them aflame.

I clenched my teeth as the fiery brands flew toward us, striking our shields. A piece of burning pitch fell through a gap and landed on my wrist, the leather instantly blackening. I hissed, shaking my arm before it could burn through the thick leather. Others were less fortunate, screams rattling my ears.

“Hold!”

Only another dozen paces.

“Hold!”

Ten.

“Now, Freya!” Snorri shouted, and I screamed Hlin’s name.

Magic coursed from my hand, covering first my shield and then Bjorn’s, moving ahead and behind me until all were aglow with silver light.

And not a heartbeat too soon.

The ram slammed into the gate with a boom. But it was nothing compared to the explosion above us. In my periphery, I saw liquid shoot in all directions as my magic repelled what must have been boiling water, steam clouding the air.

“Back!” Everyone shuffled backward at Snorri’s bellow, stumbling over the bodies of two who’d been struck by arrows, and I struggled to keep my footing. Fought to keep my shield in place, for if it separated from the others, they’d lose the protection of my magic.

“Heave!” Snorri roared, and we raced forward again, the ram swinging on the ropes slung between a dozen men. With each pass, warriors fell to arrows, the ground turning to an obstacle-filled slurry. It was chaos. My breath came in desperate pants as I focused on where I stepped, my feet sliding in the muck.

Boom!

The deafening noise of more boiling water exploding off my magic rattled my ears right as the ram struck. I staggered, catching myself against Bjorn, but managed to keep my shield high.

Steam stung my eyes and made me cough as we swung the ram again, the bodies beneath our feet crushed into a pool of blood and mud.

Boom!

On the heels of the explosion came screams, and under Bjorn’s arm, I watched one of our warriors spin away from the ram, face brilliant red with burns, his clothing soaked. I panicked, certain my magic had failed, but when I looked up, my shield still blazed bright above our heads.

“It wasn’t you,” I whispered to myself as we moved back to swing again. “It wasn’t your fault.”

I could do this.

I would do this.

Then my foot caught on a corpse.

I stumbled, trying to catch my balance, but my toes hadn’t the strength to hold my weight.

A shriek tore from my lips as I fell, slamming into Bodil, who caught me against her chest, holding me as I gained my feet. “Arm up, Fr—”

A clap of thunder split the air as I forced my shield back into place, twisting in time to watch Bodil drop, a blackened hole in her shoulder. I screamed, horror and disbelief filling me as she hit the ground.

And Bodil wasn’t the only one who fell.

My misstep had ripped my magic from the shields of my comrades, and all around me men were soaked with boiling water, their faces brilliant red from burns. Screaming. Dying.

The ram fell with a crunch, and dimly I heard Snorri shout, “They have a child of Thor! Fall back!”

“Bodil,” I howled, seeing that there was still life in her eyes. If I could get her out of this mess, maybe she could be saved. If I could get her to a healer in time, then maybe she might live.

But Bjorn’s arm was around my waist, lifting me and tearing me away from her. “She’s lost,” he shouted. “We have to fall back!”

An arrow whizzed past my face, but I still fought him, reaching for Bodil as she lifted her hand to me. Our fingers brushed, then I was ripped away, an explosion sending Bjorn and me both flying sideways.

I landed hard right as the thunder clapped. Thick steam filled the air, and I couldn’t see Bodil. Couldn’t find my way back to her. Hands caught hold of me, dragging me over the ground. “Get up,” Bjorn screamed in my ear. “Run!”

Blinking away the haze of tears revealed that the gate was an inferno, the bodies and ram having been lit aflame by the lightning. I screamed in wordless fury as Bjorn hauled me toward the trees, my heels bouncing on the torn-up grass, my eyes fixed on the scene.

Which is why I saw the child of Thor.

Standing in the covered structure over the gate stood a hooded figure with arcs of lightning crackling back and forth between their upraised palms.

The one who’d killed Bodil. The one who’d stolen her from me.

Screaming wordlessly, I tore out of Bjorn’s grip. Snatching up a fallen shield, I ran, calling forth my magic. My shield burned like a silver sun as the child of Thor lifted their hands.

Dropping to one knee, I raised my shield.

A clap of thunder split the air when the lightning struck my shield, as though Thor himself had stepped out of the sky and into battle. My ears rang. Light seared my eyes, and I knelt frozen in place, blind and deaf, until, slowly, the lights cleared and the ringing eased.

Revealing a hole where the gate had been, an entire part of the wall lying in ruin, the child of Thor gone.

Dumbfounded, I stared at the smoking ruins, charred remains of men resting atop blackened and smoldering wood.

“Attack!” Snorri screamed.

Warriors streamed past me, racing for the breach. Climbing over the remains of our clansmen. Over Bodil.

Never again would I hear her council. Share drinks with her over a fire. Fight by her side.

They’d taken her away from me.

My blood surged and I scrambled to my feet, feeling no pain, only endless, ceaseless rage.

Pulling loose my father’s sword, I climbed over the rubble and through the smoke, racing after Snorri and the others between the buildings. Everywhere I looked, people ran screaming, but my eyes glossed over the women with children in their arms, the infirm, the weak, as I hunted for a fight. Hunted for release from the agony burning like acid beneath my rage.

A bearded warrior exploded out of a building, half his face burned away, though he didn’t seem to feel it as he raced toward me. His axe slammed against my shield, my magic sending it spinning away.

A wild laugh tore from my lips and I swung my own weapon, cleaving through the leather he wore, his innards spilling out. I spun away, meeting another man’s attack and leaving him less his throat as I moved on to the next. And the next.

Until there was no one else to fight.