Page 6 of Tree of Ash (The Runic Saga #2)
Seven
Halla
Halla hated the small brown-and-black beans that stuck to her sweaty fingers.
In the past week, she’d been assigned to several rotations within the compound—knotting rugs, shelling the coffee beans, cleaning the barracks—but nothing frustrated her as much as weighing and packaging beans.
After several hours, her fingers cramped and her hands spasmed.
Juni had been right. While Halla waited in dread of the next auction day, the thraell would work her for every ounce they could earn.
At least Juni shared Halla’s rotation that day.
The dark-haired girl kept Halla’s sanity intact, whispering to her stories of her life living on the streets of Lystheim whenever the thraell walked out of earshot.
They’d been kept in the barracks to sort the beans under the supervision of the thraell , who snapped his whip when they moved too slowly.
At the end of the shift, he’d count and weigh each bag to record their production, but Halla suspected it was more about making sure the children did not eat the beans out of desperation.
Though Halla’s eyes blurred from the beans and her knees ached from where she knelt, she did not complain, unwilling to bring any unwanted attention from the thraell upon her.
Not that she was scared, she reminded herself; she was Ieunn.
No, it would simply be easier for her to plan her escape if no one was watching.
And she was planning her escape.
She just didn’t have a plan quite yet.
To distract herself, she would recite Pappa’s stories in her mind, sifting through them as she tried to decide which story she would share with her bunkmates each night.
At first, she couldn’t think of Pappa’s stories without crying, but on Halla’s third night within the compound, a new child had been brought to their barrack—sold to pay off his family’s debt.
When the boy cried, Halla sat beside him and told one of Pappa’s favorite stories.
It wasn’t until she was done that she’d realized the entire barrack had been listening to her tale of Thor’s missing hammer and the mockery of a wedding that ensued afterward.
Her stories made her instant friends and brought back the warmth of Pappa’s voice—if only in her mind.
The following days, the other children would share a quick smile or just a short nod in Halla’s direction.
It was ironic that her enslavement had given Halla the opportunities for friendship she had always longed for.
She could only thank the Norn for this strange twist of fate.
“That’s the last one.” Juni threw the bag into the pile in the middle of the floor, then scratched absentmindedly at the bandage around her neck.
Halla had asked Juni about it, but the girl’s face had darkened, and when she hadn’t responded, Halla knew not to ask about it again. But she still wondered every time she saw Juni’s hands touch the worn fabric.
“You, you, and you,” the thraell barked, pointing at several of the children, “take these to the south tower and report back. The rest of you to your bunks.”
Halla sighed in relief to not be one of the three unlucky souls chosen.
Those hefted their loads over their shoulders, following the thraell out of the barrack.
The sacks were heavy, and the southern tower was the farthest in the compound.
As they left, children from other rotations were ushered back inside the barrack from their outdoor duties.
Released from her position on the ground, Halla limped on numb feet back to her bunk and collapsed from exhaustion, covering her eyes with her hands.
Even with her eyes closed, the outlines of the beans were etched onto eyelids.
She wondered if she would forever be counting beans before sleep even if Larissa were to find her.
When , she reminded herself in an unyielding mental tone, not if .
“Must be nice to sit inside and count beans all day.” Kai’s words hit Halla’s ears just as she felt his body settle at the bottom of her bunk.
Halla groaned but didn’t bother to open her eyes at the now-familiar voice. “My hands are wrecked.”
“I had sewer duty.”
Halla peeked at him through slitted lids. “You win.”
Kai smiled in self-satisfaction, but the smile dropped quickly. Halla loved those brief glimpses; his smile softened his face and chased away whatever haunted him. When he smiled, he was even more beautiful than Darien—though Halla would never admit it.
“Come on, get up.” He tugged at her elbow. “If you stay here, we’ll only get crumbs for dinner.”
Halla lowered her arms and sat up with a loud sigh. She leaned over to where Juni had collapsed on her own bunk. “Juni, food.”
Juni grunted but pushed herself up from the bunk and made her way toward where the other children waited near the door.
There were around twenty of them, though the number shifted regularly as more children were brought in and some were sent out into the city as laborers.
Among them, Halla was the youngest. She’d turned thirteen two days ago.
What would’ve been a momentous occasion at home had passed in the shelling of coffee beans with the threat of the thraell ’s whip looming overhead.
She hadn’t spoken to anyone that day, not even Juni or Kai, preferring to escape into daydreams in which her parents still lived.
Kai rose from Halla’s bunk, leaving her to stare as he walked away.
He looked different from anyone she’d ever seen before in Perle or Safír.
His skin was fair, but with warm undertones that came out in the sun.
It contrasted against his jet-black hair that stuck up around his ears.
His eyes always seemed to be laughing at her, yet Halla had never heard Kai laugh.
The other children gave him space when he approached the door, as they typically did.
Halla’s back nearly buckled as her feet hit the ground.
She forced one foot in front of the other.
Even on berry picking days, Halla had never felt this stiff.
She remembered the way that Pappa would crack every joint in his hands at night only for Tucker to try and outdo him by cracking his knuckles in his toes.
Halla’s smile at the memory swiftly slipped from her face, and she closed her mind against the image, but the damage was done as other memories seeped into her thoughts.
“You okay?” Juni nudged her shoulder into Halla, but her words were faint compared to the sound of roaring fire in her ears.
In her mind, Halla was back in the barn, hiding under the trapdoor as smoke filled her lungs.
She could hear her parents’ screams as the draugr killed them.
At least they’d been able to bury her parents, but Tucker’s body had been left in the fields to rot.
Saliva gathered in Halla’s mouth as nausea threatened to empty her stomach.
“Halla. Halla!” Juni shook her shoulder.
Halla breathed in deep through her nose, doing her best to dispel the images that plagued her dreams. “Sorry. What?”
Juni’s quizzical gaze was laced with sorrow.
The door to the barrack opened as a thraell threw in the bag of rations for dinner—the one meal they got per day.
Madness reigned as the children scrambled to be the first to open it.
Any fondness the others had for Halla’s stories faded at the sight of the bag as Halla earned more than a couple elbows jabbed into her sides, fighting to get her hands on something edible.
She’d learned early on that if she waited, there would be nothing left.
Having secured herself a bottle of water and some type of bread, Halla escaped the melee and fled back to her bunk.
Not long after, Kai and Juni joined her. They were always better at scoring food. Kai had even captured an apple at some point, bruised on one side, but still.
Halla munched on her bread, grateful for the raisins baked into the dough.
But the memory of Mamma’s hands on her own in the kitchen came back with such ferocity that Halla gagged on the bread in her throat.
Tears sprung to her eyes as she forced herself to swallow.
Juni’s pounding on her back, though ineffective, was appreciated.
When Halla’s coughing had stopped, Kai leaned forward, his back turned toward the other children in the barrack who had retreated to their bunks to eat and rest. “I overheard something interesting from the thraell .”
Juni threw up her hands in exasperation. “How is it that you always get to hear the interesting things?”
“I’m a better listener and have more patience than you,” he shot back.
Juni wrinkled her nose, leaning away from him. “You also smell worse than me.”
Halla ripped a bite from her bread. “Be nice, Juni. He had sewer duty.”
“Sewer duty,” she repeated, looking toward the back corner of the barrack.
Halla and Kai exchanged a glance including raised eyebrows and shrugs.
“Something you want to tell us?” Kai asked.
“Not yet.” Juni’s gaze sharpened. “So what did you hear?”
“Apparently there was some big commotion in the city last week,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder before continuing. “The thraell aren’t supposed to talk about it, but a whole warehouse was destroyed, and whoever destroyed it got away.”
Halla paused with her bread hanging in the air.
Her sister’s shouts, the clang of Darien’s sword, the screams of the draugr as Larissa brought the ceiling down on it all echoed in her mind.
Halla dreamt of them almost every night.
Twice, Juni had woken Halla to stop her screams before the thraell would hear.
The previous night, it had been Kai who had wrapped Halla in her blanket after waking her and sat beside her in silence as her tremors passed.