“A long story,” Reyker said softly. “I will tell you later, if you wish to hear it.”
I pulled myself into the saddle, and Reyker settled in front of me, offering me a heavy fur cloak. Andrithur was already galloping ahead. “Hold on,” Reyker said. His voice was stiff, and so were my arms as they wrapped around him.
Why was this so hard? All I’d wanted for so long was to have Reyker back, and now that I did, it didn’t feel as I’d thought it would. Had Draki ruined this, too, as he’d destroyed everything else I cared about?
Victory took off, flying across the hummock, catching up with Andrithur’s horse and then surging ahead, faster than she’d ever been on Glasnith. Night lightened to dawn, the sun rising as the moon set. The hummock gave way to meadows dotted with wildflowers, and then to a sparse forest. Victory slowed as we rode up the path to a village, or what would soon become one—the place seemed empty, most of the buildings incomplete, with stacks of wood and stone piled beside them.
Reyker dismounted. I let him help me down, but he didn’t look at me as he held my waist and lowered me to the ground. I walked through the village, taking it in, wondering why it felt familiar.
Andrithur rode up and handed his horse over to Reyker, who was bringing out a fresh mount from the half-built stables.
“Thank you, Andrithur,” I said. “I know you put yourself at great risk to help me.”
“I owed you a debt, witch. Consider it repaid.” He climbed onto the horse and addressed Reyker. “I’ll make sure the ship is ready, lordling.”
Reyker bristled at the title, but he nodded, and Andrithur kicked his mount, disappearing into the forest. Leaving the two of us alone.
“What ship?” I asked.
All of my focus had been on getting out of Dragon’s Lair. I wasn’t sure what to do now. Stay on Iseneld with Reyker, fighting to overthrow the Dragon? Or go back to Garreth and help him push the Dragonmen out of Glasnith? Both seemed impossible feats, especially since I’d renounced my homeland and pledged myself to Iseneld’s gods. Would they let me leave? Would the Green Gods allow me to return to their shores?
“A ship sailing to the Auk Isles.” Reyker walked toward the largest of the grass-roofed cottages in the village, the only one that was finished. “A place without Dragonmen.”
I ran to catch up to him. “Who is going to the Auk Isles?”
“You are.” He entered the cottage, holding the door for me.
As soon as I was inside, he moved, and I kicked the door shut. “I just spent the last month with a man who tried to control me. You don’t get to make decisions on my behalf.”
“This is not just about you.” He whirled on me. “If you stay in Iseneld or go to Glasnith, Draki will find you. As long as you are his captive, he will use it against me. He will use me against his enemies. He will hold your life at stake and force me to kill the only warriors who might be able to overthrow him. The fate of my island is tied to your fate, Lira.”
He was right, and I felt like a fool for not having realized. But it was also unfair, and I couldn’t simply give in. “I still deserve a say in this choice.”
“I wish I could offer you that.”
“What will you do if I say no? Throw me over your shoulder and drag me to the ship? Tie me down so I can’t jump overboard?” I’d stepped closer to him, and there was only an inch of space between us. I wanted to beat my fists against his chest. I wanted to grab his head and pull his mouth down to mine.
“I will do what I must to keep you and Iseneld safe.” He went to the hearth, kneeling beside it to start a fire.
I leaned against the wall. “Everything is different now, isn’t it? Everything has changed.”
He blew on the kindling until the sparks caught, crackling to life. “Not everything.” His gaze slid over me briefly before returning to the fire.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered. I didn’t have to say Draki’s name. It lay between us like a chasm.
“You know why. You would have hated and feared me. You would have looked at those darker parts of my soul and seen him there, always worrying that one day I would turn into him.”
“Those sound like your fears, not mine.”
There was a pop as he snapped a branch in half and fed it to the flames.
“Reyker.” I crossed the room, determined to break this strange barrier that had risen between us. Above the hearth was a wooden mantel with scratches along the surface. Symbols. Words. From Hilde’s teachings, I understood some of it. These were protection runes, spelling out blessings and prayers.
I’d seen this mantel in Reyker’s soul.
“This is your family’s home.” I ran my fingers along the grooves in the mantel. “We’re in Vaknavangur. But how? I thought it was destroyed.”
“We’re rebuilding.”
I peered out through the cottage shutters. “There are others here?”
“Not now. I sent them to a nearby village for their safety, in case Dragonmen followed us. But yes, I’ve been working with those who survived Draki’s attack on Vaknavangur. In time, we will return it to what it once was.” He came up behind me, pointing out different buildings. “The stables. The barn. The feasting hall. The workshops will go there, the gardens there. The well is already running.”
His entire demeanor was lightened by this sense of purpose, by the sort of joy I’d only ever seen in him once before—the night we’d spent in each other’s arms beneath a thorntree. We had lain beneath that tree, speaking of being in Iseneld together, and here we were. It wasn’t how we’d imagined, but we had made it.
I took the first leap, because I knew he wouldn’t. I leaned into him, my spine against his chest, pulling his arms around my waist.
With a sigh, he rested his chin on my head. “I missed you, my deer.”
The dam I’d built inside myself over the last months, the only thing that had kept me sane, began to crumble. I turned, my fists balling into the fabric of his tunic, trying to hold back a torrent. “I thought you were dead. I dreamed it. I saw it when I touched the medallion.” My fingers slipped beneath his collar, pulling out the circle of silver. “How did you get this?”
Reyker took my hand and pressed my palm to his chest.
The memories were jagged rocks jutting up from the swift currents of his soul. All I did was brush them with my fingertips, and they poured into my mind, every moment that had passed since we parted.
The attack on his ship, when he’d been stabbed, and the monks who pulled him from the sea and saved his life. His return to Glasnith, how he’d searched for me, how he’d watched me jump from the bluffs. His battle with Draki. The horrible things he’d done to try and save the survivors in Stony Harbor and the Daughters of Aillira. His capture. His journey to the glacier.