Page 7

Chapter six

Sifa

You Can't Win

“W e can’t leave the way we came,” Frida says as she and Knut round the corner toward the stables. “We’ll never make it in the dark.”

“It’s safer than the road,” Knut insists. “If the Dróttning comes, you’ll cross paths. She’ll kill you.”

“How far do we have to go to be safe?” Frida’s eyeing the carriages, her mouth set in a tight line.

Knut pauses as he looks toward the little trail we’ll follow to escape. “In half a viku,” he says at last, “you’ll reach a turn with boulders on either side. It’s too far from the road and the house for the Dróttning to sense your presence. Wait there. I’ll send word when they arrive so you know you can leave at first light.”

“Yes, that’ll work.” Turning, Frida gestures at the girls. “Get in. Let’s go.” And then she turns to me. “Not you, at least not until that scent wears off. Knut has a horse for you.”

Thank the gods . I was dreading being trapped in a carriage again. I’d much rather be on a horse with a sword on my hip and knives ready to fling.

This horse, though, leaves much to be desired. She must be the worst mount in the stables, a nag Knut can lose without much concern. I wonder if she’ll have the strength to carry a rider. Her back droops nearly as much as her eyes.

She’s pissed about all of it. She doesn’t want a bit in her mouth. She definitely doesn’t want a rider. And she absolutely doesn’t want to leave her warm stall in the middle of the night.

It takes two men to saddle her. Both lose bits of flesh in the process. I would laugh if I wasn’t the one destined to suffer her spite. I wonder if I’ll be able to avoid her teeth as I try to get on her back. I’ll need to take a minute to get to know her first.

“What’s her name?” I ask Knut as he walks to my side. His nose wrinkles, but he doesn’t back off. I wonder what he wants from me.

“Hilde. It means ‘ready for battle’. She lived up to it for most of her life. She was the best of the war horses.”

“What treats does she like?”

“She’s partial to apples,” he tells me. “She didn’t like being ignored and forgotten,” he adds after a moment. “But once she accepted it, she decided she didn’t want to go anywhere. Maybe you can help her find the adventurous soul she had in her youth.”

“I’ll try.” I walk over to find an apple, cutting it up for better bribes, and then I approach Hilde. Slowly.

She watches me warily, her eyes narrow. When she catches the scent of the apples, she brightens a bit, her front hoof pawing at the ground as she lets me approach her and takes the slice of apple I offer.

Placing my hands on her cheeks, I capture her gaze and hold her stare for long seconds. Her emotions whirl around, the anger melting a bit as she lets interest take its place. She’s been bored for so long. She convinced herself she’d never leave again and finally accepted it. But she wants to leave. I help her find that longing.

Finally, her eyes let go of the distrust she’d held in place for so many moons. She lets them fill with hope.

We spend another minute eating the rest of the apple, all of my fingers intact when we’re done.

“You’re good with animals,” Knut observes as he walks up to stand by my side, braving my smell yet again. I get the sense he’s measuring me, evaluating whether he can trust me. After a few moments he nods to himself and leans toward me.

“I know your secret,” he whispers, his gaze holding mine. I force my expression to stay flat—although my mind is scrambling for some response—as he continues. “I also know you followed us last night, heard our meeting with Troels. We’re involved in something important here,” he tells me. “We need people we can trust. You should talk to Frida and Ulfhild about our work.”

I watch him for a moment, struggling to keep my expression neutral. Bevin will be pleased if I get access to this group. And if Knut does know my secret, I need to tread carefully. “We all have secrets,” I respond vaguely, “but I’ll think about it.” He nods, one side of his lips tipping up just a touch as I turn back to the horse. I can’t lose the tenuous bond we’ve forged. “I’m going to ride you, Hilde,” I say. “Together we’ll find some fun.”

She watches, motionless, as I take the reins and lift my foot into the saddle. Shuffling a bit, she seems to ponder whether she’ll let me mount her. And then she pauses, standing still for me.

“Thank you, Hilde.” I stroke her neck for a moment and then lift my other leg to get settled on her back. She accepts her new rider without complaint.

“Send word as soon as you know anything,” Frida urges Knut as she motions to the guards to lead us away.

As one, we turn to follow them. Hilde is surprisingly compliant. Maybe she’s already realized she’d rather be on this bumpy road than stuck in her stall.

I’m grateful to be on the back of a horse again. To not be trapped in a carriage, relying on other senses because I can’t see anything. Even in the middle of the night, the stars unwilling to provide any light, I’m at peace. If we’re attacked, I’ll fight.

Twice along the way, I catch hints of a presence nearby. Maybe it’s the strange man who seems to have been following me. Or the Dróttning. Whoever it is, if I can sense them, they can sense me. I nudge Hilde to move faster until we’re far enough away to lose them, as I urge my heart to calm down and the butterflies in my stomach to still. Hopefully, their senses aren’t better than mine, and they lose me when I lose them.

It takes more than an hour to reach the boulders. And then we wait. In some ways, this is worse than fighting. If they were here, I’d know what to expect. Whether we can win. Instead, I’m stuck wondering about all of it.

When I feel the presence approaching again—realize it’s coming toward us—my stomach flips, sending my heart rate soaring.

I was wrong, I know now. Fighting is worse than waiting. We have too many people to protect and too few warriors to do it. If it’s the Kastali and they send more than a handful of people to capture us, we’ll be doomed.

But there’s nothing I can do. We’ll never outrun them. If we try, we’ll just appear guilty. So we wait. Again.

When I see him, I’m not sure if it’s relief or fright I feel. He’ll let us go. But only after I’m forced to talk to him. Part of me can’t wait. Another part—the instinct that kicks in when he’s near me—tries its damnedest to get me to flee. I squash it down. Like it or not, I need to hear whatever he has to say.

I’m not surprised when his eyes focus on me and his horse makes a beeline in my direction. When he’s a few feet away, he points his chin toward a teeny path into the forest. “We must talk. Follow me.”

“Please.” My tone is low, insistent.

“What?” he demands, his eyebrows pulling together to create one large caterpillar. I almost laugh. He looks so befuddled.

“Please follow me. I’m sure that’s what you meant to say.”

His mouth actually drops open as he stares at me.

Now I do laugh. He needs someone to tell him no every once in a while. He snaps it shut when my guffaw escapes, his jaw twitching. “Please,” he spits out before turning his steed to lead me into the forest.

We ride for nearly a quarter viku before he stops, spinning to look at me.

“I don’t know why you had to call me out here,” I mutter before he can speak. “They can hear anything you have to say to me.”

“You shouldn’t have come to these grounds,” he growls, urging his horse to close the distance between us. “Listen to me and listen well. Do not ask Ulfhild or Frida about Knut’s work. Do not tell anyone—especially not Bevin—anything you’ve learned here. Leave Ulfhild’s house and don’t return. You’re playing a game you don’t understand. A dangerous game, that you can’t win. I won’t be able to help you much longer.”

I reel back, anger blossoming from my chest to fill every part of me. “I don’t answer to you,” I remind him. “And I don’t want your help. I’ll go wherever I must to survive. If I need to talk about what I’ve seen here, what I’ve learned, that’s what I’ll do.”

And then I lean forward, holding his gaze as I fill my eyes with the intimidation that always forces humans to back down. This male, though, doesn’t respond like anyone else. He glares at me, his bright green eyes sparking with his own anger. He speaks before I can.

“I won’t tell you again. You’ve already cost me too much time. I’ve taken too many chances to protect you from yourself. Let go of what you’re pursuing. They’ll find you. They always do.”

“Then they’ll find me,” I respond. “But I have no choice. I can’t stop what I’m doing.”

I can almost see the anger roiling inside of him. He looks like he wants to throttle me, settling instead for gripping his reins like they’re snakes he’s struggling to subdue. At last, he gets control over his emotions. His face settles into something like resignation.

“You’re a foolish female,” he snarls at me. “So fucking dangerous. I won’t interfere again.”

He yanks on a rein and kicks his heels, racing away from me at a reckless speed.

Good riddance , I assure myself, the anger he’s able to ignite in me bubbling to the surface. I’m always in control of my emotions. They’ve never reacted to anyone the way they do to him. I don’t understand it, but I’m filled again with the certainty that I must stay away from him. He is more dangerous to me than anyone I’ve ever encountered.

Liv watches as I ride back toward the carriages, a gloating grin on her face.

“You’ve got the wrong idea, Liv,” I hiss at her. “Sorry,” I add after a moment. “That male really pisses me off.”

“We can see the sparks flying from here.” Liv’s all smiles again, enjoying whatever she’s decided to believe about him and me. But she is wrong. I don’t even know his name. And I don’t want to.

“Will we be chased from here?” Frida asks, all business.

“I don’t think so. He didn’t say anything about the Dróttning.” I sigh to myself. I can’t believe I didn’t even ask him the obvious questions. I’m a lousy spy when he’s around. Another reason he never can be.

The rest of the trip is unremarkable. We stay at the same inn and get back to Ulfhild’s before night falls. She asks a few questions but not nearly as many as I’d expected. She probably expects to get whatever she needs from Frida. After offering me a day off—which I gratefully accept—she asks me to return at dusk in two days. She even says she’ll stable the horse for me, prompting a grateful smile. I’ve grown fond of the old girl.

But I can’t go home yet. I should check in with Halla, make sure she and Sagga have enough food. Then report to Bevin. Which I’m dreading for some reason.

Halla’s grin when she sees me lifts my spirits. We chat for ten or fifteen minutes before she needs to get home. She’s been bothered by the long trip I’m supposed to take soon but also wants to make sure I know they’ll be fine without me. I think she’s reminding herself as much as me.

Bevin doesn’t waste any time when I make it to his favorite tavern. Within a few minutes, I’m shown into a back office he claimed years ago. He doesn’t rise or wave me to a seat as I enter.

Instead, he gets straight to the point. “What did you find?” he demands as soon as we’re alone together.

“What makes you think I found anything?”

“You’re a spy. And you were on the outskirts of the training grounds. Of course you found something.”

My job is to tell him everything. It’s what I must do to stay in his good graces. To continue working my way into his organization, and eventually get close enough to the Konungr and Dróttning to get access to information that can help me find my way home. I’ve spent ten years getting to this point. I can’t squander it now.

But for reasons I’ll never be able to explain, the strange man’s face appears in my mind. His words echo.

And I decide not to report all that I learned to Bevin.

“They are the most secretive group of people I’ve ever encountered,” I tell him instead. “I spent hours talking to the staff one day and learned about their families and pets but nothing more. I think they’re chosen for their discretion.”

“And what of your searches?”

Even sitting down, his power over me is intimidating. I struggle to stay neutral, to hide my deception from him. “What searches?” I ask in the most bland tone I can muster.

Bevin doesn’t move. At all. Eventually, his pupils constrict, as if light just flooded the dim room.

“Don’t do this, Sifa,” he warns me in a flat voice. “We both know you searched while you were there. What did you find?”

“Nothing,” I assure him. That much is mostly true. “I went into the library twice but I was found and berated both times. They made it clear I’d be punished if I tried again. I didn’t find any other interesting rooms, and nothing on the grounds gave a hint as to what Ulfhild is involved with. Or Aksell.”

“And the dragons? What did you learn about the training grounds while you were there?”

“Even less. I saw a single dragon when its rider came to entertain himself. But we see that around here all the time. I didn’t see any training runs or even any dragons in flight. The riders knew we were coming. They must have held back on working the dragons while we were there.”

Bevin leans back and watches me in silence. I don’t let my gaze stray. He hates weakness. A minute or more passes as we stare at each other. At last, he sighs. “I don’t believe you. You’re keeping information from me.”

“Why would I do that?” I demand, letting frustration seep into my words. “I have earned your trust, Bevin. Have you ever known me to be untrustworthy?”

“Never,” he concedes. “But that means nothing now. Loyalty often can turn on the flip of a coin.”

“You’re trusting me now because you know you can. My loyalty isn’t so flimsy. I’m sworn to you. You have no reason to doubt me.”

“Maybe so. Maybe not. Know, though, that I’ll be watching you.”

“Good. Watch me closely. You’ll see that my fealty is to you.”

“We shall see,” Bevin responds after a few more moments. He stands, his body as graceful as a cat, and strides to open the door where his man waits. “Sifa will join Fhord tomorrow,” he says. “Get a message to him to meet us here an hour after dawn. He should be prepared to travel. He’ll take the trip we’ve been planning.”

“I’m to return to Ulfhild in two days,” I interject. I don’t know who this Fhord person is, but I don’t want to work with him. I’m better alone.

“I’m displeased with your work for Ulfhild. You won’t be returning to her. Make an excuse so you can go back if I need it. For now, you’ll assist Fhord. You’ll be gone for two weeks.”

“I’d rather not,” I insist. “I don’t do well with partners.”

Bevin spins and strides forward, erasing the distance between us. When he speaks, spittle sprays at me, little flecks of disdain. “Did I ask your opinion?” I’ve never before heard such anger in his voice.

Much as I want to move away from him, I don’t. It’ll be worse if he sees my fear. “No,” I respond simply.

“Why would you presume to give it, then?” His nostrils flare as he stands tall to glare down at me.

I do the same, making sure I never look away. “You want me at my best. I’m not as effective when I must work with someone else. But if you want me to partner with this person, I will.”

“Yes, you will. Know, though, that he’s not your partner. You’ll assist him. He’ll tell you what I need from you. Make sure you don’t fail me again.” Dismissing me with a wave of his hand, he steps around his desk and sits. When he looks up to find me still standing there, a single brow lifts. “What?”

“You want me to work for him?” I can hardly believe my ears.

“Was I not clear?” Bevin’s patience has nearly run out.

This is what he asks. It’s what I need to do.

I drop my chin, hiding the anger in my eyes. “Apologies, Bevin. I’ll do as you request.”

“Yes, you will.”

Bevin looks down toward some papers on his desk. He doesn’t say another word as I stride out the door.

My spirits drop as I walk home after arranging for Mikkael and Johan to check in on Toffer and give Halla food while I’m gone. Even the troll’s excitement at my return—and Thor’s perfunctory meow in hello—don’t pierce the gloom that sits all around me. Toffer gives me space, sharing a silent dinner together before nudging me with his elbow shortly after we sit down on the balcony with glasses of wine.

“What’s wrong, my Sifa?”

“I think I fucked it all up,” I tell him, fighting to hold back the tears I can’t let him, or anyone else, see.

He doesn’t chastise me for my language. He must be really worried.

“Tell me, Sif-Sif,” Toffer urges. “You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

“I don’t even know where to start.” I inhale, thinking through the events of the last few days, the man whose face keeps appearing in my mind. “I’ve been working all this time to get close to Bevin. To get him to trust me. But today, I ruined it all. I’ve lost his trust, and I don’t know how I’ll get it back again.”

“It can’t be that bad.” Toffer’s voice is gentle. “What happened?”

“I lied to Bevin. He knew it. But the worst thing is, I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”

“Why would you lie to him? You’ve never done that before.”

“I have no idea.” My tone is shrill. I’m so frustrated with myself. I suck in another deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. There’s nothing I can do about it now. “A stranger—somebody I saw for the first time a week ago and barely know—told me to lie. And I did. It makes no sense.”

“What stranger?” When I don’t answer right away, Toffer lays a hand on my arm. “Sifa, what stranger?”

“I don’t know his name,” I explain. “I don’t know anything about him. But we’re connected in the weirdest way possible.”

“What do you mean?” Toffer’s face is twisted in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” I exclaim. “I’m being so cryptic.” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “You know that I can sense people, right?”

Toffer bobs his chin for a moment, his gaze never leaving mine.

“Well, this man, for some reason, puts my senses on high alert. I can feel him coming. And I’m convinced he can feel me. But it’s more than that.” I lean back and take a sip of my wine, letting myself remember the emotions he triggers in me. “When he gets close, my feelings go to war with each other. At the same time, I am both completely enticed by him and thoroughly repelled.”

“Is he handsome?” Toffer looks at the cat and then back at me. “Thor wants to know,” he explains.

“Since when do you serve as an interpreter for me and Thor?”

“He was nicer to me when you were gone. We’re trying to get along.”

That finally lightens my mood, just a bit. I’ve been waiting years for them to learn to like each other.

“And now I want to know too. Do you like the way he looks?”

“Gods help me, I do,” I respond with a laugh. “He’s a mean, rude man. But he’s not bad on the eyes.”

“And he asked you to lie to Bevin?”

“He told me to keep some things I learned secret. I knew I should have told Bevin when he asked, but I didn’t. And Bevin can always taste a lie. It’s how he got where he is. He knows what I did.”

“But you’d do it again. Why?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I sit with it for a minute, trying to figure out why. “He keeps showing up. The gods must have a reason for connecting us the way they did,” I answer at last. “Even if I never see his miserable face again, I can’t deny the link between us. Maybe it’s there just so I’ll listen to what he says.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try to earn back Bevin’s faith. I don’t like it, but I need him to trust me.”

“And what if you see that man again?”

“That won’t happen,” I assure Toffer. “We’ve been in this town for years, and he’s never crossed my path before. I’m done with Ulfhild, so I’m done with him.”

Toffer gives me one of his crookedest smiles. “If you say so, Sifa.”

“I’ve never been so positive about anything,” I promise.

I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him or me.