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Bryn was still struggling to find her voice.

“I need to open the pub, but I’ll see you around,” Sigurd said, waving to her as he went out the backdoor.

She nodded her goodbye and ascended the stairs. Once she got to the roof, she let out a ragged breath and half fell to her knees in front of the fallen tent. Bryn reached for the cloth of the old shirt and ran her fingers over it, sorrow filling her so quickly that she felt like she was drowning.

Grief and rage followed in quick succession, causing sparks to flare at Bryn’s fingertips. The dry cloth in her hands went up in flames instantly,destroying the fabric and any trail that her sister had been here. Ash spilled from her shaky fingers.

Sitting with her back to the wall around the stairs, Bryn faced the palace and tried to push thoughts of Maude out of her mind. Questions bubbled up to the surface: why did Maude run? Did she know who Mama was? Did they plan something and leave Bryn out of it?

Spiraling down and down further into her insecurities, Bryn analyzed every interaction with her mother and sister those last days for the hundredth time. As usual, she found nothing out of the ordinary. Bryn thought back on what she had discovered about their mother.

A spy.

Their mother was a spy for the Kingdom of Rivers.

Bryn knew that there were spies from both kingdoms all over Ahland, but why had their mother felt the need to get so close to her enemy? The King of Flame had always vocalized his disdain for the Kingdom of Rivers and had felt that his fire was superior to their earth and watergalder. He had expressed his dislike often and loudly but had never acted on it.

The treaty was too strong to break, and the galder keeping it in place was too resilient.

One passage written by her mother came to mind:

I miss my home. Though I have fire running through my veins, I am a stranger in this red-stoned city and these impossibly cold halls of the palace. My work has been fruitless these past few years. In the past, our spies had been able to ward off attacks from the Kingdom of Flame with their warnings. Being in their place now, I do not see how they could have known. I am closer to the King than all in his court, and I see no evidence of treason aside from his hateful core.

Did the treatygalderwarn our spies of a potential attack? Did the gods send a sign to them? I know in my soul that he is planning something and that he keeps his own counsel onthis scheme. I worry that my deceptions will become known to Harald the more I push him for information. My girls will be left on their own with no one to protect them from his hatred if I am discovered.

Being torn between protecting my children, the lights of my life, and protecting my home has proven to be a more difficult task than I expected. I have not heard of any attack from this kingdom in Ahland recently, which is a small saving grace. My plans to whisk the girls away in the dead of night slip further and further away the longer it appears that Harald is content with his rule. I caught wind of a rumor this week from the servants in the halls that there is a weapon that can bring down any opponent with just a slice to their skin, damning them to Hel. I sent word of it to Alva in hopes that there was some truth to the story, but she did not hear of it in Veter.

To own a weapon like that would be to rule over all the kingdoms. Harald shows no awareness of these stories. Much like gossip from the nobles, these types of stories ebb in and out of society every few years. I don’t trust that he is not aware of such a weapon; his greed for power is unending. I know he is plotting the downfall of the Kingdom of Rivers, potentially with the aid of this weapon. I cannot leave my position until I stop him.

Their mother had been suspicious of the King and these rumors of thedalkr Hela. During their last meeting, her uncle had mentioned that Maude and the group she was traveling with had been headed toward the Kingdom of Light, where the rumoreddalkr Helawas hidden somewhere. Was it possible that their mother had shared this story of a powerful weapon with Maude, and she searched for it now?

It didn’t make sense to her that Maude would wait all these years to now, out of the blue, search for this weapon. Rumors of thisdalkr Helamust be circling again, and the King may be planning to find it himself ifhe were so worried Maude would find it first. Doubt crept into her mind as that thought settled within her.

Bryn had not had any inclination that he was planning some attack on the Kingdom of Rivers, but she wasn’t always privy to his every conversation. It was possible he could be planning something. She had shaken off the rumors about the weapon initially; the idea that there was a weapon out there so strong seemed ludicrous to her, so she stopped giving the idea any merit. After reading about what her mother said about her suspicions, Bryn wasn't so sure it was a false rumor anymore.

Mind spinning with all the implications of her father obtaining that dagger, Bryn hastily stood and entered the house again. Searching for paper and ink, she tore through the drawers and cabinets of Sigurd’s house. She scribbled a quick note in code to her most trusted soldier to meet in her chambers at midnight before she made her way to the roof and started jumping between buildings. Bryn manipulated the wind around her to increase her speed as she wove through Logi's tight rooftops.

Shimming down a drainpipe, Bryn adjusted her clothing and her stance to reflect her status as Lieutenant General before entering the market square again. The setting sun reflected off the red buildings, casting the square in a bloody light. The soldiers closest to her realized who she was and quickly placed their axes over their chests and bowed.

“Sergeant, I need you to deliver this letter to the barracks. Immediately,” Bryn said, voice harsh with the mask of her position.

“Of course, sir,” the sergeant said quickly, bowing once more before quickly setting off at a run toward the palace.

“Carry on,” she instructed, hands behind her back as she walked into the market for the second time that day.

The mask of Lieutenant General sauntered through the market for another few hours, scouting for potential soldiers to enlist. Bryn, however, was continuing to descend into her schemes. The sun finally set below the horizon and cast Logi into darkness, the crescent moon in the sky giving off minimal light. She exhaled quickly and then set off toward the palace, keeping her pace slow and unhurried.

Eventually, she made it to her chambers. Bryn undressed and headed for the washroom, where her tub had been filled with boiling water for her to bathe in. She quickly scrubbed her skin in the scalding water, mind half present as she continued to plan. When she finally rose from the water, steam was billowing off her skin in long ribbons. The front door to her room clicked open, and the soldier she had summoned entered the room.

Bryn ignored the newcomer, who bowed low with her hand over her chest. She stepped out of the tub and reached for her silk robe.

“You summoned me, sir.” Revna’s light voice came from her bedroom.

Bryn walked out to greet the soldier she had requested to meet with her, her robe slightly open and her body still on display.

Revna’s black hair was loose around her shoulders in long waves that shone in the candlelight in Bryn’s room and contrasted with her deep russet skin. She had high cheekbones and a slender face with harsh lines that highlighted her natural beauty. Her uniform was missing, as it always was in these meetings, and was instead replaced by black leggings and tunic. A leather vest with a metal breastplate was over the top of the tunic, hugging her curves in a way that did not go unnoticed by Bryn. Strapped to her left thigh was the dagger Revna always carried while her axe was belted around her waist. Her round shield, marked with various nicks and scratches, was lowered to her side.

“Relax, Revna. Thank you for meeting me under such short notice,” Bryn said as she walked over to the dresser that housed a few decanters with an amber-colored liquor inside, tying her robe shut.