Page 86 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

“Take your hand off me,” I growled, my eyes growing blacker with every word.

“Let me speak to her.” Eryka’s voice was firmer, almost powerful. “Hodag is no killer. She did not do this but is clearly upset by it. She’ll know what happened.”

Only when Malin slid her palm into my other hand did I release my mesmer grip on the troll. Irritated, I opened my arm, mutely instructing Eryka to have her way with the troll.

I paced, my dark gaze trained on the troll and fae princess. There was part of me that was aware Malin had not moved at my side, part of me fully aware she’d not taken her eyes off the steelman’s form. Her pain cut through me like a burning knife and added to the clotting guilt in my chest.

“We will take him,” I grumbled, unwilling, perhaps afraid, to look at her. “Then we will send Sigurd to the great hall of the Otherworld properly.”

Malin shifted on her feet at long last. She curled a hand around my wrist and urged me to look at her. The heat of pain in her eyes peeled back my skull and saw into my darkest thoughts. “It wasn’t your fault, Kase.”

The woman would be the unraveling of every secret I kept inside. Of course, she’d see the truth buried beneath sharp words and scheming.

My jaw clenched. “I did not keep my end of the deal.”

“We cannot predict every move. We cannot be at every place. We can only do our best,” she whispered, touching my cheek. “Sigurd knew the risks and still stood with us. He believed in you.”

I chuckled darkly, thinking of some of the final words he’d said to me.

“No. He believed in his queen.”

“Come Hodag, you’re safe here.” Eryka returned, one hand on Hodag’s shoulder.

“Tis my fault, starlight,” the troll sobbed.

“What happened?” I glared at the troll. “You abandoned our camp, then we find our man dead.”

“Hodag did not kill the man,” Eryka whispered. “He was killed in front of Hodag, and she was forced to wait here with his body until we found him.”

“You’re quite sure,” I snarled. “Almost like you know more than—”

“Kase.” Malin narrowed her eyes. “Eryka did not take part in this.”

The logical part of my brain knew Eryka was a genuine soul and likely incapable of betraying anyone. But guilt and anger had a way of trying to place blame anywhere but on me when, in truth, it was me who’d been responsible for keeping Sigurd breathing.

“Hodag is blood sworn with Malin,” Eryka went on. “She was promised memories to free them from the burrow, and the nearer we came to Felstad, that blood oath allowed her to catch the scent of her prize.”

For the first time, I took note of the bundle in Hodag’s hands. Malin’s memories of the skyds we’d killed after taking the camps.

“You’ve been to Felstad,” Malin said.

My heart sunk like a ball of lead. “If you’ve been to Felstad, why do you look green in the face, troll?”

Hodag sniffled and lifted her beady eyes to mine. “Wasn’t careful. Other trolls sniffed me out. My beautiful tunnel led ‘em . . . led ‘em right to ‘em. My fault.”

“Eryka, explain what she means.” The tremble of rage rolled off my tongue. “Now.”

Herja and Hagen had joined us, along with Valen, Elise, and most of the Kryv. Eryka hesitated; she looked at Gunnar for half a breath before going on. “The stronghold is no longer at the grove. The fae folk guarding our enemies took note of Hodag’s tunnel. When she burrowed to Felstad, they followed. They had the steelman in their grasp, and when they found the ruins . . . they invaded.”

“They found Felstad.” Malin’s trembling whisper struck me like a thousand nicks of a knife point.

There it was. The truth we all realized, but no one dared speak out loud. If Hodag had the memories Malin had hidden in the ruins, if the stronghold had followed Hodag’s trail, then it meant Ivar and Britta had overtaken our haven.

This meant . . .

“Laila.” Herja dropped her bow and sobbed against Hagen’s chest. “They have Laila!”

The littles. Ash. Hanna. Von. All the children we’d left behind were now in the hands of Britta and Ivar.