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Maude tried to distance herself from the screams of the sergeant currently tied to a post in waist-deep water by humming the tune to a song her mother used to sing to her as a child.

It wasn't because she felt bad for the man, but rather because the dagger on her hip that had once been so familiar to her now begged for bloodshed.

She wasn't sure how she knew; only that she felt drawn to the blade that seemed to have awakened since reuniting with its counterpart— the leifr Hela .

The dungeons in the Palace of Ocean and Clay were deep beneath the surface it stood on, only accessed by a dark tunnel lined with limestone and deep veins of shining black that she couldn't help running her fingers over as they led them to the shoreline.

In the small grotto, the water would rush in at high tide and almost fully submerge the cells.

The prisoners would be held with loose chains so they could tread water until the moon pulled the tides back out.

Most would die before the waters could recede enough to give them a reprieve from their exhaustion.

It was brutal, even by Maude's standards.

The damp air tasted of salt and was thick with the minerals of the deep earth the tunnels carved through until the air had changed along with the walls of the tunnels.

Once the veins of black threaded through the walls, sulfur had filled their senses.

The further they walked, the stronger it had become until it was so heavy that it made Maude's eyes water.

Their footsteps had been muffled by puddles of water that dripped from the ceiling, the small pools in the dark tunnel casting droplets of water onto every surface with a small splash with each step they had taken .

All too quickly, Maude had started to feel the walls closing in on her as she remembered the last time she had been walking through cave tunnels so similar to this one.

The way the fire flickered against the walls, the way the air was wet and musty at the same time— all of it reminded Maude of Eydis' final moments as they fought their way out of the Knotted Caverns.

She'd pulled up the hood of her cloak around her face as if to block out the memories of her friend taking a last, ragged breath, and that was where it had remained as Bryn interrogated the sergeant.

Tied to a post with his arms behind his back, their prisoner remained tight-lipped and had been that way since Maude had tossed him into the water to wake him before restricting his movements with her water galder .

He stood in waist-deep water only a few feet from the lip that jutted out from the edge, the small stone parapet in front of him big enough for Bryn to question him without having to submerge herself in the water with him.

From Maude's side, where she clung to the shadows, Dahlia leaned against the wall with her eyes closed as she kept her connection to the man steady. She would signal if he were getting too close to succumbing to their questioning.

They'd worked out a plan as they'd headed here— Dahlia would monitor, Bryn would question, and Maude would control the water around him in order to… persuade him to answer. To put it delicately.

"This can all end soon," Bryn cooed as she crouched in front of him so they were at eye level. His face was damp with sweat, and his features twisted in pain as she traced his cheek with a lick of her fire. "All you have to do is tell us Helvig's plans for this invasion."

The sergeant only bared his teeth at them in response, so Maude flicked her fingers up, pulling a stream of water from the pool he stood in and directing it down his throat.

The sword seemed to pulse at her hip as the sounds of the drowning man echoed on the camp walls of the grotto, happy to be swallowing his pain.

Nausea rose in her throat, but Maude quickly swallowed the sensation before withdrawing her galder .

Ever since Dahlia and Herrick had managed to coach Maude into reaching her water galder , it had become easier and easier to do.

She despised that her connection to the water had grown stronger the longer she used it to torture the Flame Sergeant.

If anything, it was proof that nothing good ever came from her galder .

"His body is reaching a breaking point," Dahlia murmured, her eyes still closed in concentration. "He needs a break."

"He can take it," Herrick said as he appeared in the dark tunnel.

The hard lines of his face were set in a blank mask that Maude had never seen before, and he'd changed his clothes since she'd seen him. She couldn't help but stare at the fearsome aura he was displaying.

Dressed in a deep navy uniform, Herrick was every bit the General of Rivers.

Across his chest, overtop a navy tunic, lay a black leather vest that had scale-like plates similar to the tattoos on the skin beneath them.

The insignia for his family runes were printed on the front with the blue and sage swirls that were present on every Rivers Soldier uniform.

His sleeves hung down to his wrists where black leather gauntlets with silver scales over the top had been tied to protect his forearms. Slung across his left shoulder was a black fur-lined cloak that fastened on the right side of his chest, where Maude could see a two-handed battle axe peeking up from behind him.

This was who Herrick was at the very center of his being— a warrior, a fighter, a leader. And he was hers .

"You're drooling," Bryn whispered in her ear, the laughter in her voice clear despite the weak words that skated across her skin. Her sister was drained, and it was starting to show.

Interrogations were rigorous work.

Maude cleared her throat before asking, "Did everything go well with your parents?"

He nodded roughly but did not answer further. He turned his attention to the sergeant in the water as he continued to vomit up the water she had just forced down his throat .

"Why don't you all take a break for the night," Herrick suggested, his golden eyes darkening to an almost amber color. "Your tents should be up and furnished by now if you'd prefer to stay away from the palace."

All three women hesitated at his words, clearly sensing that he was in a dark headspace.

Maude glanced over her shoulder at Bryn and tilted her head toward the exit.

Her sister nodded, the weary lines of her face growing tighter as she glanced at the General of Rivers before breaking for the tunnel with Dahlia in tow, leaving Maude and Herrick in the grotto alone with their prisoner.

For a moment, the tide rushing into the small cave was the only sound besides the captive's heavy breathing.

"Is everything okay?" she finally asked, her voice surprisingly soft.

Placing her hand on Herrick's shoulder, she gently turned him to face her.

All she saw was a bitterness in his eyes that she had only ever felt herself before.

The type of bitterness that stemmed from childhood frustration and neglect.

Whatever had been said between him and his parents had clearly sparked this side of him that Maude had never seen before.

Except, she didn't fear the slow churning rage that stared back at her. If anything, she finally felt seen. Even Bryn had never fully understood her feelings about how they'd grown up.

Stifled. Forced to fit a mold not created for them.

"I'll be fine," Herrick finally responded, his gaze softening a bit as she watched him. "Go rest."

She only nodded before reaching toward him and placing her hand on his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his sharp cheekbone until she felt him shiver.

Before she could respond, Hakon entered the grotto with the same darkness in his eyes.

It seemed the Kolbeck brothers were going to have some blood repaid to the Kingdom of Rivers tonight.

Turning to the tunnel, Maude entered the darkness again and left them to it.

After washing up in the tent that had been set aside for them, she sat down with the Elven to practice more healing galder as Bryn snored from one of the cots.

Though she was more successful this time around, knowing what to look for in her mind's eye, Maude still struggled with the finer points of what she could actually do.

Dahlia said that the healing ability manifests differently in everyone, but Maude had been unable to stumble on what her galder could do yet.

The smaller types of healing were easier than she expected once she was able to tap into them— sealing an open wound, stopping a fountain of blood from pouring out of someone's veins.

They kept their practice session private as no one knew her true heritage yet, and Maude didn't want a River Soldier to run to Alva with information in an attempt to gain good favor.

As if the thought had summoned the Queen of Rivers, a soldier announced her arrival at Maude's tent.

Quickly donning her glamour again, Dahlia stood and retreated to the back of the tent, where a privacy curtain had been hung as Alva entered the space.

Still dressed in her fighting leathers with plates of black armor over her chest, arms, and thighs, the Queen looked as much a warrior as any other fighter would.

Though her crown had been switched out for a diadem that was weaved into her braids, her golden eyes that she had passed on to Herrick glowed with that regal air that was unmistakable in nobility.

An entitled look that spoke to years of never being turned away.