“What terrifies me, Jal, is that time will blunt the wound. That in six months or six years I will wake one morning and realize I can’t see Freja’s face any more. Discover that my arms no longer remember little Emy’s weight, my hands her softness. I’ll forget my boys, Jal.” And his voice broke and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to take back my words. “I’ll forget them. I’ll mix one memory with another. I’ll forget how they sounded, the times we spent on the fjord fishing, the times they chased me when they were little. All those days, all those moments, gone. Without me to remember them . . . what are they, Jal? My brave Karl, my Egil, what were they?” I saw the shudder in his shoulders, the hitch as he drew breath.
“I don’t say it’s right, or brave, but I’ll carry my father’s axe into Hel and I’ll search for them until I’m done.”
None of us spoke for an age after that. I drank steadily instead, seeking the courage that lies in the bottom of the barrel, though the wine seemed sour now.
• • •
Finally, with the shadows lengthening and all our plates long since empty, I told them.
“I’m stopping at Vermillion.” Another swig, running it over my teeth. “It’s been a pleasure, Snorri, but my journey ends here.” I didn’t even think I would have to do anything about the Sister’s curse. It had worn so thin that I’d not heard as much as a whisper from Aslaug since waking from the last of Kara’s dreams. Sunsets passed almost unnoticed now, with just a prickling of skin and a heightening of senses as the moment came and went. “I’m done.”
Kara shot me a shocked look at that but Snorri just pursed his lips and nodded. A man like Snorri could understand the hold that home and family have on a person. In truth though, I disliked pretty much every surviving member of my family, and the fear of being murdered by agents of the Dead King ranked at the top of the list of reasons I wasn’t continuing with Snorri’s mad quest. The plain fact of it was, however, that even reason number 6 “travelling is an awful bore” would have been sufficient on its own. My family might not have much hold on me, but the prestige of their name, the comfort of their palace, and the hedonistic pleasures to be found in their city all keep a vice-like grip on my heart.
“You should take Hennan with you,” Tuttugu said.
“Uh.” I hadn’t anticipated that. “I . . .” It made sense. None of what was to follow was anything a child should endure. It wasn’t anything a grown man should endure come to that. “Of course . . .” My mind was already racing through the list of places where I might palm the boy off. Madam Rose on Rossoli Street might be able to use him for running messages and clearing tables in the foyer. The Countess of Palamo staffed her mansion with very young men . . . she might want a red-haired one . . . Or the palace kitchens could use him. I was sure I’d seen urchins in there turning the meat spits and whatnot.
Hennan himself didn’t complain but chewed his heel of bread furiously and stared out at the road.
“I, uh . . .” I swallowed some more wine. “I should make my good-byes here and be off.”
“We’re not good enough to be seen with in your city?” Kara arched an eyebrow at me. She’d taken her braids out, having lost all her runes, and grown her hair longer. It was so bleached by the sun it looked almost like silver where it flowed around her bare shoulders, now freckled with the summer.
“Snorri is a wanted criminal,” I said. A total lie of course, and even if he was I could probably argue his case for a pardon. The truth was that I didn’t want the facts muddying the waters of any lie I felt like telling about my adventures in the ice and snow. And besides, when I made my triumphant return to high society I wanted all eyes on me, not wandering up and down the muscular length of the intriguingly handsome barbarian towering over me.
Snorri met my gaze across the table and, before I could look away, stuck out his hand for the warrior clasp. Somewhat awkwardly, I took it. A bone-creaking squeeze and he let me go. Tuttugu held out his more reasonably sized hand for the same.
“Fair seas, Prince Jalan, and many fish.” As we clasped.
“You too, Tuttugu. Try to keep this one out of trouble.” I nodded to Snorri. “And that one.” A nod to Kara. I wanted to say something to her but couldn’t find any useful words. I stood unsteadily. “No point drawing these things out . . . as the actress said to the bishop . . .” My horse stood at the trough on the other side of the yard and since the world appeared to be revolving around me somewhat faster than normal I waited a moment for things to steady. “You take my advice and throw that key in a lake . . .” I fluttered my fingers at Hennan to get him out of his seat. “C’mon, boy.” And with that I plotted as steady a path as I could to my gelding who I decided in that moment I would name Nor, in memory of Ron, the beast that bore me much of the way north. Nor would carry me in the opposite direction and so should bear the opposite name.