“Anything else?” Tola asked as the ground leveled out beneath their feet.
“Did you save me?” she asked after a moment’s thought. “Did you…see me?”
Tola didn’t answer at first. Her staff dug into the ground a little harder than it had before, digging small grooves into the sandy dirt. Finally, she spoke without looking at Sibba, her red hair hiding her face. “I think the question here is, did you see me?”
Sibba furrowed her brow, trying to catch the vala’s eye and failing. “I—yes, I think so. I mean—”
“Because if you did,” Tola continued in spite of Sibba’s stuttering, “that means you have some of the seithr in you.”
An objection was on the tip of Sibba’s tongue—women do not have magic—but she snapped her mouth shut. It would have been a ridiculous thing to say to this creature beside her. Instead, she shook off the strange, mystical feeling that had wrapped around her limbs and smiled sideways at the vala.
“One more question. If you tap me on the cheek with your staff, will I forget my name?” It was a punchline to a popular, raunchy joke that she had heard more than once. Sibba was not normally one for banter, but there was something about Tola. She wanted to make her laugh, to see her relax.
It worked. Tola turned and studied Sibba's face, and then raised the staff to eye-level. “Perhaps. Shall we try?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sibba
They met Estrid and Evenon at the top of the cliff. Estrid threw herself at Sibba and Sibba caught her. Both girls were soaked through and half-frozen, and Estrid had a wide gash down her leg beneath her skirts. It was dripping blood into her calf-leather boots.
“I told you to wear trousers, you fool,” Sibba said, but she smiled through the scolding, glad to be reunited with her friend.
Friends, Sibba corrected herself, feeling a warm swell of affection when Evenon appeared over Estrid’s shoulder, watching them sullenly. Somehow, he had kept Estrid safe, and that was enough to eliminate any misgivings Sibba had about him. He was wind-beaten and shivering, but his bow and quiver were still strapped to him, just as Sibba's ax and stolen crow sword were in their sheaths beneath her cloak. He offered her a small smile, but when his eyes landed on the vala, his face darkened with mistrust.
Tola had no such misgivings about the two newcomers. She stepped forward and pulled a wrapped packet from a purse on her belt.
“May I?” she asked, gesturing to Estrid's leg. Estrid shrugged and stuck her leg out, pulling up her skirt to reveal the jagged wound on the inside of her calf. “I don’t think it will need stitching.”
Tola knelt and cracked open a long, green leaf with jagged edges. “Eir leaf,” she said by way of explanation. The sap had a clean, crisp smell. She spread it on the wound and then used the linen cloth to bind Estrid's leg. That had been expected, but when she then used a stick of kohl to etch a five-lined rune on the binding, they all leaned forward to examine it.
“What is that?” Estrid asked, not hiding her bewilderment.
Smiling secretly, Tola stood and stuffed the kohl back in the pouch. Then she shook a finger at the group as one might do to a nosy child.
“Vala secrets,” she said.
“Truly?” Estrid asked. “You are a vala?”
“I am,” Tola said, wiping her hands on a cloth that hung from her belt before recovering her staff from where she had placed it against a tree trunk. Estrid and Evenon both seemed to lean away from it. Looking up at the sky, Tola added, “And I am late. Will you accompany me back into town?”
“The boat…” Sibba motioned to the other side of the cliff, but the look on Evenon's face stopped her.
“There is no more boat,” he said, speaking for the first time since his appearance. Pushing past him, Sibba scrambled up the hill. She thought she felt him grab at her to stop her, but if he did he missed. At the flat bluff on top of the cliff, she had a view of the beach on both sides. To her right was the pebble beach where she had washed up, but to her left was a labyrinth of giant spiked rocks and among them, wooden planks and scraps of red sail.
He had been right. The Malstrom was no more. One day. She had lasted one day as captain before destroying that, too. And her father wanted her to be chief? The others appeared behind her, all of them gazing down at the wreckage. Estrid opened her mouth as if to say something, but Sibba beat her to it.
“Let's go,” Sibba said. “No reason to stay here.” She turned to Tola, who stood a few paces back from the group as if knowing this grief did not belong to her. And it was grief, though it was just an object. It was something that had belonged to Sibba's before, something that was supposed to carry her into the after, and it was shattered on the rocks below. “Take us to Endar.”
? ? ?
The cloudless sky promised a clear day, and Sibba began to thaw during the walk. Tola walked beside her, prying into the group's journey—where they were going, from where they had come. Sibba answered in murmured half-truths. They were coming from the north, traveling to Ydurgat to visit family.
“That's where I was born,” Tola said. “My mother is the vala to the venerable Chief Grimsson.”
With that information, Sibba felt justified in not disclosing more information to the girl, no matter how trustworthy she seemed. But something nagged at her.
“Shouldn’t you inherit your mother’s position? Why are you here in Endar?”
Tola shrugged but it didn’t hide the hurt in the twist of her mouth. “I was not worthy of the position.”
“Not worthy?” They were following the river and the path was widening, which meant they were approaching Endar. Sibba held back a branch for the vala to pass and then stepped through onto what was obviously the main road in and out of town. It was churned into mud by the recent storm, a lumpy mess of tracks from boots, wagon wheels, and horses’ hooves. Tola walked in the dry grass along the side of the road to avoid soiling her cloak while Sibba valiantly trudged through the mud.
“Chief Grimsson expects a certain level of ferocity in her retinue,” Tola said, lifting up her skirts and jumping over a puddle. “I have always been more interested in life than death.”
“You mean healing?” Estrid asked from behind her after clearing the puddle herself.
“Yes, to my mother’s great shame.”
“So you’ve been exiled to Endar?” Sibba asked as the main gate came into view. The town was nothing compared to Ottar, a small gathering of houses around the mouth of an even smaller river. Even still, as the sun reached its peak, the light glinted off of the armor of the women warriors patrolling the gates. They carried swords as long as their legs and wore helmets to hide their faces.