Page 27 of Tree of Ash (The Runic Saga #2)

“Will we?” Anara’s gaze pinned Darien where he sat. “Do you think your father honestly cares if we reclaim Rubin? Wouldn’t it be easier to burn it to the ground on the march to Diamant?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Darien argued, nodding his head at Larissa. “We wouldn’t let that happen. We’ll help you save your people too.”

“If we even deserve it,” she muttered. “Maybe the gods have cursed my bloodline to destruction.”

Larissa tightened her grip on Anara’s arm. “I don’t believe that, and neither do you.”

She patted Larissa’s hand, then stood. “We’ll see.”

Dinner was eaten around the fire that chased away the chill of fall. Ishaan had returned from his scouting, having noted the ten closest farms to choose from. As Halvor laid out the plans for which farms they would approach first, Larissa found herself retreating inward.

Halla.

Larissa held the image of her sister within her mind’s eye, drawing strength from the knowledge she would find Halla soon.

The memory of Halla’s cut hair gnawed at her, filling her with apprehension.

A tingling sensation crawled across Larissa’s palms, and she knew, without looking, that they were glowing.

Before they’d left, Eluf had sent her a message, instructing her to practice her circulation to gain better control of her galdr . Larissa did so now, imagining the heat at the tips of her fingers expanding into her palms, then her wrists.

Everything is made up of energy, her mother had once taught her . Imagine if energy had substance. Imagine you could feel it.

Larissa’s eyes burned at her mother’s voice.

Our galdr allows us to manipulate even the unseen, she’d once said, but you must have faith in the unseen or you will never master it or yourself.

With her mother’s voice lingering in her ears, Larissa moved the heat through her body until she swore she could feel it in the tips of her hair. As it receded back to her hands, Larissa knew the glow was gone.

Darien’s voice cut through her concentration. “Halvor, you said before in the council meetings, you hoped to find your family alive in Safír?”

Halvor pushed up his crescent-moon glasses.

“I’ve been searching for years. When Shiko took control, I was separated from my sister in the chaos.

I thought she was dead until recent reports proved not only is she alive, but she also cares for her grandchild.

A boy. Marinos.” Halvor’s eyes and tone softened on the name.

“We’ll find them, Halvor,” Darien promised.

The man sighed deeply. “We must focus on Perle first. Then, perhaps, if the Norn favor us, we will make it to Safír.”

“We’ll make it,” Haki promised, tearing a large bite from the jerky in his hands and winking at Anara. “We’ve got three monarchs of old on our side. We’re already favored.”

“Not that I’m complaining,” Anara said, leaning back on her hands, “but how did two sentries end up joining the Vienám?”

Larissa raised her head in time to catch the glances Haki and Jari shared with one another.

There was hesitancy in the larger brother’s eyes and anger in the smaller brother’s.

Jari’s fingers rubbed at a medallion that hung from his neck.

The light of the flames glared off the metal, revealing the eight tridents emanating from the Helm of Awe.

It was an old symbol for protection and power.

Jari’s eyes flicked in Larissa’s direction before he huddled over the cup in his hands. “Our story is not suitable for current company.”

All hands stilled on cups and plates. Larissa set down her own meal. “If you’re afraid of offending me, you don’t need to be.”

“It’s not that,” Haki tried to reassure. “There are more encouraging stories to tell before a battle.”

Larissa met the smaller twin’s eyes. “Jari, you can tell me.”

“Very well, Princess.” Jari turned toward her, ignoring Haki’s hand on his arm. “The day Perle fell, the day you disappeared, Empress Shiko thought you might still be hidden somewhere within the palace, and so she burned it to the ground with the servants still inside.”

Nausea rose in Larissa’s throat, even Anara looked unsettled on the other side of the fire.

“She had her armies seal up the doors and windows. My grandfather was burned alive because Shiko was searching for you.” Jari’s voice grew harder with each word.

“My grandmother was pregnant with my mother as she watched the palace crumble to ash. She fled to one of the nearby houses and hid herself. Many who stayed behind were imprisoned, but they were the lucky ones. If anyone ran and was recovered, they were executed without trial for treason. Their bodies were left on display for months as a warning to those who remained.”

He paused, but Larissa didn’t know what to say. In the crackle of the burning logs, she swore she could hear the screams of the Perlians—her people trapped in her palace—who paid for her disappearance. The smoke of the fire was thick in her nostrils.

But Jari was not done, nor was he responding to Haki’s attempt to stop him.

“After that, the Empress enacted her one-child policy. In the case of twins, she gives the mother the choice of who she gets to keep and who she has to sacrifice into the Empress’ service.

My mother could not choose, so she hid me, the second-born, for years, telling everyone that she had lost me in delivery while registering my brother as her only child.

I was discovered when I was eight years old.

My mother was executed for her treachery. In front of both of us.”

Jari’s voice caught. Even Haki looked sick at the memory, his eyes narrowed in anger and pain.

Jari cleared his throat. “My brother and I were enlisted to serve the Empress, to be hated by those around us for the actions we were forced to commit. We were never given a choice to be anything else, not until the Vienám.”

Jari’s tale was met with silence, the kind that lingered in the soul.

“I’m sorry,” Larissa whispered, shaking her head.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Haki started, but Jari clenched his jaw, clearly in disagreement with his brother.

“Your story,” Halvor interrupted, “reminds us why we fight and the hope that our returned monarchs bring to their people.”

Larissa looked down, unable to swallow around the lump in her throat.

Darien’s hand rested between her shoulder blades, but his comfort barely dented the pool of grief and guilt that engulfed Larissa.

She hadn’t chosen to be hidden by the Norn or to leave her people at Shiko’s mercy, but that didn’t change the facts.

Her absence had caused her people nothing but hardship.

And judging by the look on Jari’s face as he glared down at the fire, studiously ignoring her, it would take more than pretty apologies to regain the trust of her people.