“We have no idea what we’re dealing with.” Even as I say it, I remember—Cyrill had a Kupari slave. If I can find her and question her, perhaps she can tell me more about the witch queen’s magic. Cyrill’s shelter is a bit of a hike, but maybe—
“Come back to my shelter,” Thyra says. “We need to rest before we leave tomorrow.”
When I hesitate, she tugs my hand. “We’ll sleep in shifts. I’ll watch over you, then you watch over me.” Her smile is uncertain but so sweet that I want to taste it. “I’ll wake you if anything starts to smoke.”
“I’ll come, but you must promise you’ll let me go if . . .”
She squeezes my hand. “If it comes to that, you’ll talk to your chieftain.” She raises her eyebrows, and the laugh bursts from me unbidden. Then she leads me back to her shelter. I can practically feel the glares of Jaspar’s guards as we trudge past their post, but I don’t look up. The weight of relief and gratitude is so heavy on me that I can barely lift my feet. Thyra guides me onto her own blanket and wraps it over me. “You’ll be better able to rid yourself of this curse if you aren’t half dead from exhaustion. Rest, Ansa. I’m depending on you.”
If I trusted myself, I would touch her face. But I am afraid I would burn her. “I’m sorry for asking this,” I say quietly. “What is your plan?”
I hold my breath as she cups my cheek in her palm. “It’s a worthy question, and you don’t need to be sorry.” She sighs. “My father would never have wanted us to be led by a traitor. But not only that—I don’t trust Nisse to do right by our widows. He put forth some very backward ideas when he was still a member of our tribe, and I don’t want that to infect us now, especially when they are so vulnerable. We have a commitment to honor with our andeners—and to the memory of our fallen brothers and sisters—and I am responsible for seeing it through.”
Now I understand why she was discussing sowing crops in the spring. How else could we keep thousands of bellies full, with so few warriors to journey out to raid and hunt? “I don’t suppose we could send a contingent of warriors while the rest of us remain here.”
She shakes her head. “Jaspar was very clear. Our andeners are valuable, and Nisse requires their presence in Vasterut.”
“Is it possible his intentions are good?”
“I don’t know. I just . . . hope he will be willing to move on from the past.”
She shakes her head, as if she were casting off something heavy, and not for the first time, I wonder what really happened last winter, and why she won’t talk about it. “Go to sleep,” she says, turning her face away. “I mean it.”
I should be guarding her while she rests, but I can’t fight my own exhaustion anymore. Tomorrow, yes. I will search for a way to lift this curse, and the Kupari slave will be the first step. Tomorrow, I’ll rise and fight again.
But for now . . . the ice-fire throb of my red mark subsides to a faint pulse. I fall asleep feeling the sweet slide of Thyra’s palm over my hair, and my dreams are black as the deep waters of the Torden.
*
We rise with the sun, and our fire bursts to life the moment I shiver with the morning chill. Thyra glances with alarm at the pit—there’s no fuel there to burn. With a shudder, I walk away, and I feel the moment the heat fades to nothing, leaving only the stain of humiliation on my cheeks. She’s counting on me to control this, to get rid of it, and to keep it secret in the meantime. It will all fall on her if I am revealed as some sort of witch. I’ll be dead, my brains bashed out and my bones shattered—and she might be next.
For a moment, I think of that kind of death. The most awful thing about it wouldn’t be the pain. It would be the looks on their faces as they hurled their stones. It would be the bite of their hatred, the despair of knowing my tribe was no longer mine.
If I’m honest, I’m not just fighting to keep Thyra safe. I cannot think of a worse agony than that of being abandoned. And with that realization, another memory creeps up like a snake—me clawing at the monster as he carried me to the boat. I stare at the glow at the top of the hill, knowing my parents can’t reach me. That they won’t save me. That I am truly alone.