“As long as Jaspar and Kauko don’t interfere,” I say. This is the galling truth—when our warriors went down to retrieve Kauko, to secure him before he awoke, they found him gone—chains sliced through with what was probably a broadsword.
Our best guess is that Jaspar rescued him and took the crafty old wielder with him as he escaped the city. And now he’s out there, possibly trying to find the refugee priests and apprentices, along with hundreds of warriors. The Vasterutians tracked them to the Loputon, but were thwarted by a fire that drove them back, with winds coming from the west. Either it was very bad luck—or there was a very powerful wielder pushing the flames in their direction to cover his tracks.
“I don’t know what Jaspar wants now,” says Thyra. “Apart from my death.”
“He’ll never have his satisfaction, then,” I reply, moving a little closer to her.
She looks over at me, and then at the others. “Give us the room, please,” she says quietly.
Sig, Halina, Preben, and Bertel rise and do as she asks. Thyra walks over to the window on the far side of the chamber, which looks out over the city. I follow, and I lay my hand on her back, needing the contact. I can feel each of her ribs, but she stands straight, steady once again. “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she says.
“None of us do. That’s the annoying thing about the future.”
She chuckles. “Very annoying.” She touches my cheek. “How will this go, Ansa? For now, I’m your chieftain, but if our future unfurls as we hope, you’ll be queen of your own land.”
My hand slides down the bumps of her spine to settle at her waist. “We can rule together,” I tell her. “It’s not like I know anything about being in charge, anyway.”
“Neither of us knows anything about the customs of these people. They’ll be terrified to find out their Valtia is actually a Soturi.”
“A Soturi is still a person,” I say. “A Valtia is a person.”
“Not just a person,” she whispers, leaning her head down until it touches mine.
I close my eyes, savoring this moment, knowing that what is coming will test us. “I don’t feel like a queen, Thyra,” I admit, my throat going tight.
“Shh.” She brushes a kiss across my lips. “You’ll do what you think is right, always. All you have to do is remember the people you serve. Remember that what you do is for them.” She raises her head, and a shadow flickers behind her eyes. “Not just for me, all right?”
My cheeks burn as she traces the outline of my devotion, as she tries to pry it from my hands and place it on a shelf. “But I’m your wolf,” I mumble.
She tips my chin up with her fingers. “Promise me. Promise me that if it comes down to protecting your people, our people, or protecting me, you’ll choose them.” When my lips press tight, she gives me a disapproving tilt of her head and squeezes my cheeks.
“Fine,” I say. “As you wish.” But I silently swear that it will never come to that. Thyra is my people, and I will be her castle, her sword and shield.
She smiles. “All right.” She kisses my cheek. “We’re agreed.”
“We are,” I murmur, staring beyond the walls of the city to the distant line of green beyond. The trees are budding. Spring is on us. And with the warmer weather comes the future, all the blank swirl of mystery, all the possibility, all the danger, and all the hope. We have nearly two hundred warriors and a few thousand andeners to care for. We are not a powerful invading army. We are only two girls who bear the responsibility of our people on our backs. But with my arms around Thyra, the weight is lighter, because we share it.
We stare at the world beyond these walls, a world we are about to explore, the next step on our journey. Kupari and Krigere, enemies whose future is entwined. Together, Thyra and I will save them all.