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SEVENTEEN

PRESENT DAY

H ekla stared bleary-eyed at the pair of saddlesacks laid out on her bed.

Gunnar had gallantly shared his horse with Hekla, delivering her back to Istré, where she’d promptly requested bathwater delivered to her chambers.

She’d sent Eyvind’s red cloak to be washed and returned to him.

Her hair was now clean, the putrid black blood thankfully scrubbed from her skin.

Yet, Hekla could not seem to cleanse herself of the shame.

I gave you a second chance, but Hekla, there will not be a third. You must leave Istré immediately.

Eyvind’s words were burned into her skin, but it was the eyes of his retinue that haunted her most. Every male warrior in his crew had witnessed her reprimand, and it was as good as confirming their every bias.

She was an emotional woman, reckless and inept.

And though Hekla had been fully covered by Eyvind’s cloak, in that moment, she’d felt utterly bared.

Even remembering it now—that self-satisfied look in Konal’s eye and the knowing glances shared amongst Eyvind’s warriors—was enough to make her insides writhe in discomfort.

Thrown from the job. Never in five years had she felt so powerless.

Blood thundering in her ears, tears burning in her eyes, Hekla was back in that shed, her husband looming over her with the axe. ..

Hekla wrenched her prosthetic arm off and hurled it across the room.

It slammed into the wall, then crashed to the floor.

Immediately, her chest twinged with regret, but she ignored it and reached for her sword instead.

With forced calmness, she laid it on her bed.

The steel gleamed against the coarse wool fibers, and she allowed herself a moment to lament.

This weapon was designed for the left hand, a rarity amongst warriors.

It might take time for this sword to find a new wielder, but she was certain it would find one far worthier than she.

Was it wrong for Hekla to feel such relief that the Istré job was no longer her problem? She could unshackle herself from Loftur and his rules and liberate herself as leader of the Bloodaxe Crew. It was time to go back to worrying about herself.

“Done,” she muttered. “I’m done.” Hekla took one last look at her sword before turning to the door.

The door that was now bursting open. The door that Gunnar and Sigrún were now strolling casually through.

Gunnar’s gaze fell on her prosthetic arm on the floor, and he raised an eyebrow. But the warrior did not ask about it as he collapsed into a chair and propped his feet on a stool. Instead, he said, “Well? What is the plan, Smasher?”

Hekla shot him a look of irritation before turning to Sigrún. The realization that the pair hadn’t gone off with Eyvind and his retinue warmed her from within. But they knew well enough she’d been cast from the job.

Where do you need us ? signed Sigrún, her brown eyes blazing. It’s clear you’re the only one in these lands with brains in her skull. Hakonsson and his retinue are on Loftur’s leash, which means it’s only us standing between the people of Istré and the mist.

Hekla stared at Sigrún and Gunnar; they watched her expectantly. How could they trust in her judgement after all that had happened ?

“I don’t know.” Her voice was thin, so empty of conviction. She wanted to lie down. A brittle laugh escaped her, and she stared into the hearthfire. “Axe Eyes would know what to do.”

“He’s not here in body,” said Gunnar. “But he’s here in spirit. He’s trained us all. So let us think like Axe Eyes.”

Silence stretched out, disrupted only by the occasional snap of embers.

Hekla thought back to Rey, sitting tall upon Horse as they’d travelled the Road of Bones.

We’ll survey the locations of the abductions and speak to locals , he’d said.

We must observe this...mist. Determine if it is indeed cloaking creatures.

We’ll determine numbers, strength, formations, strategy, and then create a plan of attack.

“We’ve scouted the attack locations,” Hekla said slowly.

“We’ve spoken to locals and observed the mist from inside and out.

We have been blocked from examining how the mist is produced or where it emerges from within the woods.

” Hekla frowned. “But we have learned a few things. It is repelled by flame.”

Gunnar and Sigrún exchanged a look.

“And we know the mist is not cloaking creatures,” continued Hekla. “But rather is creating them.”

What do you mean creating? signed Sigrún.

“My horse,” Hekla forced out around a vicious wave of nausea. “The mist infected her, and changed her into something unnatural. I could not kill her the usual way—” Hekla let out a shaky breath. “I had to take off her head.”

Gunnar toyed with a silver cuff on one of his locs. “So, this... thing ...draws energy from the plants in the forest and uses it to create the mist, which, in turn, creates the undead creatures.”

Hekla nodded. “And there is more. Tonight, I saw it; the mist was banished by moonlight. But on the double black moon?—”

There will be no moonlight , Sigrún signed. It will be able to venture unrestrained from the woods.

“It seems there is no changing Loftur’s mind about this feast,” muttered Gunnar. “So we must plan around the festivities. ”

Evacuate in secret? signed Sigrún.

“Set a trap?” suggested Gunnar.

How many will attend the feast? signed Sigrún.

“I overheard Halldora mention gathering enough ale for two hundred,” said Gunnar.

The trio looked at one another, and the determination in both Gunnar and Sigrún’s faces kindled hope in Hekla’s chest. She did not have Eyvind, nor did she have the full force of the Bloodaxe Crew, but she had these two. And that counted for more than she could say.

“Three of us to protect and evacuate two hundred,” murmured Hekla.

It felt impossible, and yet, there was nothing to be done.

Their task was set, and now they would see it through.

Hekla pulled her warrior’s mask into place, looking from her Bloodaxe brother to her Bloodaxe sister. “Do you trust me?”

They nodded.

“Good,” she said, her resolve growing stronger with each beat of her heart. “Like Axe Eyes always said, if you cannot trust the men and women beside you, you’re already food for the corpse vultures . And if we want to survive tonight, we’ll need to remember that.”

Hekla leaned in, beckoning the others closer. “I have a plan.”