Page 15 of Tree of Ash (The Runic Saga #2)

Desperate Measures

Halla

Kai stared at Juni and Halla in abject condemnation. “It’s a stupid plan.”

“This is why I didn’t want to invite him.” Juni hissed, her face only inches away from Kai’s.

The three of them sat on Halla’s bunk, doing their best to not wake the other children with their fierce whispers.

It had taken forever for the others to fall asleep as Halla chewed at her fingernails until they bled.

Only once they were certain they would not be overheard did Juni and Halla tell Kai their plan for escape.

Her mind replayed Juni’s plan over and over again as they waited to share it with Kai.

While Halla had not expected Kai’s full enthusiasm, she had not been prepared for his anger.

“You’re a hálfviti if you really think this will work,” Kai continued.

“You’re just scared,” Juni argued.

Kai ground his teeth. “You know what happens to slaves who try to run. Does Halla?”

Juni crossed her arms. “I showed her.”

Kai turned disbelieving eyes toward Halla. “And you still agreed to this?”

Halla shrank from his glare.

“What else is she supposed to do?” Juni argued. “Wait and hope the mythical Vienám chooses to rescue her? She has a better chance waiting for the gods!”

Kai’s face went rigid. “If you do this, you’ll get more than burned, Juni!”

Juni fumed, staring into Kai’s face with enough ferocity that Halla reconsidered their plans. But she couldn’t wait for Larissa, not when her transfer was set to take place in less than two days.

“We’re going,” Juni said. “Are you coming or not?”

In the dark, Halla could only see the silhouette of Kai’s arms crossed tightly over his chest. “ Hel’s , Juni, you aren’t thinking.”

“Let’s go, Halla.”

Juni jumped to her feet, her dark shadow moving down toward the back of the barrack.

The metal paneling had rusted at the bottom, and with enough persistent force, Juni had loosened it in the past twenty-four hours.

There would be no replacing the panel after their escape, but if all went according to plan, Juni and Halla would be gone before the gap was noticed.

Halla stood, only for Kai’s hand to wrap around the crook of her elbow, holding her back.

“Don’t go.”

Halla stared in shock at Kai’s dark silhouette. “I have to; I can’t go to Diamant.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.”

“Does it have to do with that warehouse that collapsed on the day you were taken?”

She bit her cheek.

“Halla, you won’t make it. It’ll just make things worse for you here, and they won’t forgive Juni a second time.”

She yanked her arm free. “We have to try.”

“You could die.”

Halla swallowed, her parents’ faces flashing violently before her eyes. “I can’t go to the Empress.”

Emotion drained from Kai’s voice. “You’ll regret this.”

“Halla, if we’re doing this, we have to go,” Juni hissed.

She hesitated, but Kai had already turned away. Halla stood torn between the two. Why should he care what she did? He wasn’t the one being sent to the Empress in two days. Kai couldn’t understand. Her indecision resolved, and Halla scurried down the barrack.

Cold morning air drifted in from the open panel. This was it.

Juni crouched at the opening, her eyes squinting into the darkness and waiting for the change of the sentries.

She flicked her hand forward twice. Silent as the stars, she slipped through the hole with Halla on her heels.

They ran with their backs against the barrack walls in a crouch that caused Halla’s thighs to cramp up.

Grateful that Juni was leading in the dark night, Halla could hardly tell one barrack from another.

She stopped so abruptly that Halla collided into her back, causing Juni to hiss as she stumbled forward.

Just beyond them was the drainage tunnel and the bars that might lead to their freedom.

The tang of sewage water wafted in the air.

What stopped them short was not the smell, but rather the empty space between them and the tunnel.

There were no further barracks, no bushes, nothing to conceal their flight.

Nothing but wide open ground they would have to cross.

Halla’s neck tingled as she took in the bandage on Juni’s neck. If they were seen, Juni’s fate would be Halla’s. As for Juni, Halla didn’t want to imagine. In the harsh chill of the night, doubts crept into Halla’s mind.

But Juni’s thin face was set. “I’ll go first. Once I’m across, I’ll remove the bar that will let us slip through. Then you run as fast and as quietly as you can.”

Halla couldn’t shake the unease creeping up her throat.

They shouldn’t do this. Kai was right. Larissa would come; Halla just needed to be patient.

She’d already failed Juni once. How could she let Juni risk herself for Halla when Halla hadn’t been willing to do the same?

She reached out to grab Juni, to tell her they had to return to the barrack before they were caught.

Her mouth opened to form the words, her fingers reached out to clasp Juni, but between one breath and another, Juni was gone.

Halla shrank back in the shadows, praying, but never had she felt more alone.

Juni ran with abandon, her head trained forward, refusing to look around her, focused only on the task at hand.

Although her feet were swift, it seemed to have taken a ridiculously long time for her to cross the empty space between Halla and the drainage tunnel.

Her body became a shadow, consumed by the darkness.

Halla couldn’t stand the waiting. She scanned the parameter wall, searching for the white-and-black arm bands that would put an end to their escape, but it was too dark to see anything. Halla could only hope it would be too dark for the thraell to see them as well.

The light sound of splashing drew Halla’s eyes back toward Juni, though she still could not see the other girl. Halla held her breath.

Please, Frigg, Halla thought, her mind bent feverishly toward the goddess who cared the most for children, don’t let them see us .

A metallic squeal protested in the darkness.

Juni had made it to the bars. There was a short whistle.

Juni’s signal. The unease in Halla’s stomach turned to acid.

Fear of being left behind overwhelmed her uncertainty.

She leapt from the shadows, straining her short legs to cross the great expanse.

She was nearly there. She could see Juni, whose smile stretched across her face as she wordlessly urged Halla to run faster with her hands.

Then Juni’s smile vanished. Her hands froze. Blood fled from her face. “Halla, run!”

“Get back here, skútur !”

Halla would know Fenris’ voice anywhere.

Heavy footsteps landed behind her. Halla imagined Fenris’ hot breath on the back of her neck, his hands reaching out like sharp claws of a wolf.

But even worse than her imagination was the reality in front of her.

Juni squeezed through the gap in the bars.

Indecision strained the furrow of her brows; then, resolute determination chased it away.

Halla reached for her. “Juni!”

Juni slipped away into the tunnel.

Halla’s feet slapped the water when large hands wove into what was left of her hair, yanking her back and throwing her against the dirt. The breath left her lungs in one hard swoosh. She rolled to her side, gasping against the emptiness in her chest. Hot tears stung the corners of her eyes.

Juni had abandoned her.

“You stupid slápr . I told you not to make me angry,” Fenris growled. He grabbed another fistful of hair, dragging her behind him. He turned to face someone Halla couldn’t see. “Send someone into the tunnel; bring back the other one.”

Halla cried out, her hands clinging to Fenris’ wrists, desperate to relieve the pain in her scalp.

Rocks and gravel shredded her clothes, sending stinging pain shooting through her nerves.

The entire compound had seemingly come to life with noise rising around her, but nothing could compare to the thumping of her blood that pounded in her ears.

Adrenaline spiked through her veins, and the air was too thin for her burning lungs.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t consider one of you slápr trying to use the tunnels?

Or that we didn’t know how the other one had escaped before?

” Mockery and derision laced Fenris’ words.

“It would never occur to you imbeciles that the weakness in our walls is an intentional opportunity for us to remind you all what happens to those who disobey.”

He dragged her toward the middle of the intake grounds, where a large fire had been lit, tended by several of the thraell .

Halla flinched from the heat of the flames as they crackled as if in laughter.

Fenris flung her to the ground. She curled up, tucking her chin to her knees, as if she could make herself disappear, but the world around her was too vivid and brusque to allow her that escape.

Shouts from the thraell intermingled with the fire and Halla’s own sobs.

At the crack of their whips, the barracks emptied and the children gathered like a herd around Halla and the flames.

Some of the children who’d been brought in after Halla stared in confusion and fear, but many of the others set their mouths in firm lines, staring at the ground as their eyes worked to conceal their apprehension.

“Move closer,” Fenris shouted, grim amusement evident in his words. “I want you all to see what happens to slaves who forget their place.”

The snaps of whips overwhelmed any hesitancy as the crowd pushed in closer. Halla buried her face in the dirt, wishing she might choke on the dust that filled her nostrils. She didn’t think to stand, or to run.

She had no thoughts of escape, only survival.

Fenris’ callused hands grabbed the bare skin on Halla’s neck, pulling her to her feet.

She choked against his grip, her hands frantically pulling against his.

Behind Fenris, someone in the crowd rushed to the front.

Halla recognized the messy black hair instantly. But there was nothing Kai could do.

“There is a lesson you all must learn.” The fire cracked and snapped as if to accentuate Fenris’ words.

“There is no escape. You are slaves, skútur not worthy to be tracked in on the bottom of my boot. Your only purpose in life is to serve the Empress and her decrees. Tonight, I will remind you what happens to those who dare defy our Empress.”

Fenris released Halla’s throat, shoving her back into the hands of two thraell who pulled her arms behind her back.

Gasping in air, Halla watched in paralyzed fear as Fenris moved toward the fire and withdrew a long metal rod.

The end of the rod had been shaped into a letter Halla did not recognize. Its white glow burned her eyes.

“This is Thurisaz rune, given to mortals by the giants. Tonight it is a reminder that suffering is the only gift given to those who disobey the Empress.”

Juni’s rotting skin blurred before Halla’s gaze, distorted by her own tears. The sentries forced her head down, exposing the top of her spine.

“Please!” she begged, her body thrashing away from the pain it knew was coming.

Searing pain scorched her skin. Agony ripped through her body as screams tore from her throat. Darkness crowded her vision as she collapsed to the ground.

She was not Ieunn, or Anara, or even Larissa. She was only Halla. A girl with no galdr , no hope, and no escape.

Eyes as dark as night, shaded by black hair the color of Anara’s feathers, filled Halla’s vision. Everything about him was so dark, and yet he was the only bright light in the void Halla had fallen into.

“Come on, storyteller, stay awake.”

If Halla could laugh, she might have at the concern in Kai’s voice. What did he care? What did anyone care? But she couldn’t laugh; all she could focus on was the darkness. And beneath the darkness, Halla could feel the flames.

She dreamed she was back in her family’s barn, hiding beneath the trapdoor as the fires set by the draugr burned all around her.

The fire ate at her side, inching its way up her back, devouring her skin as the flames traveled with greedy fingers until they settled and burrowed into the top of her spine.

She was burning. Halla thrashed against the flames, but she could not move.

“Help me hold her! She’s going to make it worse!”

Where had Halla heard that voice? It belonged to a boy with ink-black eyes. Another wave of fire consumed her, burning away thoughts of anything else. This time she dreamed it was the draugr whose sharp claws tore down her spine.

“You’re going to be okay.”

She moaned against the pain, her eyes roving beneath their lids.

“Lara!”

“Who’s Lara?” the voice asked. “Who’s Lara, Halla?”

But Halla had already left the realm of reason.

Gods danced across her vision. Frigg looked down upon her in sorrow; she had failed in her duty to protect all children.

Loki’s mischievous eyes twinkled in delight at Juni’s abandonment.

Juni had saved herself. Hadn’t Halla done the same?

The Great Wanderer stroked the head of his raven, all the while examining Halla like some animal he had never yet seen.

Curious, yet ultimately unconcerned at her fate.

But more vibrant than any of the gods was a girl with flaming red hair that danced in a breezeless wind.

The visions paused, allowing Halla a moment in a serene field where the long grasses tickled her knees.

The largest tree she had ever seen stretched from one end of her vision to another.

The red-headed child in front of it was even smaller than Halla.

She stood on top of the well’s stone wall to run her fingers down Halla’s back.

Halla sighed at her touch, as it left behind a cooling river to soothe the flaming skin.

“It’ll be alright, Halla. Sleep.”

In the absence of pain, reverence sank in. “Who are you?”

“That’s a silly question coming from you, storyteller.”

Halla’s breath caught. “Vereandi?”

The child-goddess grinned from ear to ear. “Lovisa will know how to find us. We’re waiting for you, Halla; we still need you to tell our story.”