Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
I whirl around to my aunt. “That’s why you claimed I’d be alright? You were planning to sacrifice yourself? Have your head cut off too?”
She looks straight at me without the slightest hesitation. “You’re my responsibility.”
“It’s my mistake. It’s mine.” My words echo off the deep blues in the ice, coming back crystal sharp. If the king discovers my deception, I will pay.
I tuck my shaking hands behind my back and clasp them, nails digging into my skin.
“What about your life? Your happiness?”
My aunt speaks softly. “You’re family. You give up everything for family.”
Our heated breaths are cloudy and the chill from the ice creeps up my legs. My aunt holds her chin high, adamant she’s right, and I shiver, because I don’t want her to be. She can’t be.
“We shouldn’t sacrifice our happiness for family,” I choke out.
But we do.
He does too.
Over her shoulder, Prins Lief is striding towards us in a cloud of anger as strong as my own. I turn sharply and stride off on wobbly knees; I’m in the town square when I’m hauled around by the shoulder to Prins Lief’s glower. “You’re impetuous. You lack patience. You’re lucky it wasn’t your head just now.”
I swallow hard.
He continues, “How will you survive if you can’t keep your feelings in check?”
“Why are you warning me?”
He stiffens.
“You’re doing it for her. You dropped everything and rushed to her side.”
For a moment, his gaze softens, and the weight he carries becomes visible. “I made her a promise. I’ll see it through.” He plucks a pouch from his belt and stuffs it into my hands, holding it tight there. “These are my some of my father’s memories.”
I suck in a breath. This dromveske doesn’t feel as bulky as the one from the Skeldar ship. This is smaller, more elegant—deep green with the finest stitching. A small handful of pebbles shift inside. “I thought these were gifts between lovers? For pleasant dreams?”
“For most, they’re to share your partner’s intimate moments. To relive the evolution of their feelings.”
I lift King Yngvarr’s dromveske. “Is this—”
“Dromveskes also trap memories. Inside this are those my father cannot forget. Those he enters far too often.”
My voice becomes hoarse. “Why are you giving them to me?”
“So you understand what you’ve become involved in by mentioning your captive king. To figure out a way to survive tomorrow’s meeting with mine.”
“Won’t he realise this is missing?”
“I’m hosting a welcome feast for him tonight. I’ll be sure he’s too drunk to notice.”
“What do I do?”
“Chalk the runes. Sleep next to them. Return the dromveske to the ice bridge, first light of dawn.”
He removes his hand from the pouch and I clutch it tightly.
“Some of his feelings are volatile,” Prins Lief says. “Force your way out of them.”
I step away, not sure I understand what this means, but he’d do anything to keep my aunt alive; he’d help me to keep her happy. These memories must be important.
“Go to him. He’ll help you.”
I double my grip on the dromveske.
He pauses and adds, “Find a way to stay alive.”
I’ve entered Quin’s cottage as Haldr many times now. It should have become second nature, easy. Yet not once have I pushed this door open without coiled tension in my stomach.
It’s still there as I step inside, and it coils tighter when I see him. No candlelight; only his solid form and the scent of soap, and my raw nerves made more shivery in the dark.
I should’ve come earlier. Shouldn’t have tinkered with scriptions all day while reliving King Yngvarr’s wrath over and over in my head. Of course it’s dangerous. But Quin is more important than any stake.
Get inside the memories, get out again with a plan.
My veil flutters around my face as I bend over Quin. I’m about to shake his shoulders when, without opening his eyes, he murmurs, “You’re late.”
“Your wounds are healed. I don’t need to be here.”
“Yet you’ve come.” He opens his eyes and rises on his elbows, until his face is covered by the other side of my veil. I catch my breath. His nose and his lips, I can see their grooves . . . I can feel his filtered breath tickling my jaw . . . “I’m glad of it.”
I pull back swiftly and plunk myself beside his knees. “I came for your help.”
Calmly, with the barest notes of curiosity, “Oh?”
Quin stares silently at the dromveske while I talk and, when I’m done, takes it with a grimace.
“These memories might be dangerous.”
“What does that mean?”
“Will it stop you entering?”
I shake my head. Prins Lief pushed me to look, to understand. He promised my aunt . . . he must have faith the King of Lumin can help me. He’s not the only one. “I have until dawn.”
Quin opens the dromveske and tips six runestones onto the mattress. He looks up to where I’m frozen and pats the space beside him. “Lie down.”