Chapter Eighteen:
Dangers Unseen

We ran for as long as we could. Our pace slowed as one of us faltered and the others paused to let them catch up, then we set off running again. Eventually, we had to stop for Fainn. The old god-speaker slowed and then bent over, panting.

“Come on,” Valna said. “We need to go.”

“I can’t run anymore,” he said, waving her off.

“I don’t think they’re following us,” I said.

A raven croaked and we saw two birds sat above us. Black feathers against the thin, snow-drenched fir trees.

“Here,” I called and up-ended the sack. Soren’s head tumbled out, painting a dark red line through the snow as it rolled, and came to a halt at the bottom of a tree. The ravens shouted at me, hopping excitedly from one branch to another. “All yours.”

One of them fluttered down and started stabbing at the cold flesh. When the other flew down, they fought to get to the eyes, wings beating and voices shrieking. Alvilda turned away and gagged.

“I think we can walk from here,” I said.

Valna bit her lip, then nodded. She went over to Alvilda and rubbed her back as the young law-keeper retched.

“Are you going to be okay?” she said.

Fainn gulped down more air then stood. “Yes, just give me a moment.”

Valna rolled her eyes at him and bent back to check on Alvilda.

I dropped the sack and looked around. The forest was busy with small movements. Every snapping twig and gust of wind sent my hands to my axe, but nothing jumped out at us. One of the ravens thrashed its wings and lifted itself into the air and cawed, its beak glistening red.

“Come on,” I said. “We’ve rested long enough.”

Fainn, who was still panting heavily, shot me an incredulous look. “We’ve only just stopped.”

Before I could respond, the gore-slick ravens squawked and flapped at his back, then flew off ahead of us.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Valna said.

We ran. We were no longer driven by spine-chilling fear and so our pace was slower, but we didn’t stop. The journey was a wretched, relentless dash. We stumbled over logs and through streams. I stayed at the front and kept the snow compact enough to walk on. Valna ran along with the others and ushered them on when they thought they couldn’t continue.

Not long after the sun dipped below the mountains, the sound of familiar voices and crashing water broke through the forest. We had reached the waterfall and the beached longship. Alvilda sobbed with relief and Fainn swore a thankful prayer. Valna and I let them run ahead and turned to watch the trees behind us, mindful of anyone who might have somehow followed us, but the only movement was the swaying of leaves and the whirl of snow.

At the sight of our exhausted panic the crew grabbed whatever weapon they could. Olek rushed over to us and pulled Valna into a tight embrace. I trudged past them and found myself a drink as Fainn called for the captain.

“We need to leave. Now,” Fainn said.

The captain nodded and began shouting orders at his crew. They scrambled up and dashed around, grabbing whatever was closest and packing it away. Fainn rushed in and, together with the captain, swiftly coordinated the chaotic crewmembers.

I threw my empty cup onto the longship then rushed back to the treeline with Valna, keeping watch as the crew packed the camp. A sense of danger still prickled at the back of my neck. I twitched at any small movement, bringing my shield up every time the wind jostled the leaves or a bird burst from the low branches. Valna shimmered and disappeared as she patrolled the edge of the camp using her Windborn powers, whilst I moved to keep myself between the forest and the crew closest to it.

After what felt like an age, the captain called out, “That’s it. Everyone on.”

I paused with Valna for a moment longer to make sure the crew were safe as they clambered onto the longship, then dashed to the shore. Once everyone was on board Valna pushed us off, using her Windborn tricks to hop onto the longship once its keel scraped clear of the sand.

“What happened?” the captain asked once we were making our way downstream.

Fainn sighed. “We got some money for the longships and Alvilda’s forced them to open discussions again about Dyggvi’s body. But they also gave us the head of one of his Windborn.”

“How much money did they give us?” Valna asked.

“A considerable sum. Enough to pay for a longship, but not enough to pay for everything.”

“It was all they could spare,” Alvilda said. Her tone suggested she was trying to convince herself, as much as any of us. “You saw the state of them. They are destitute.”

“They’ve got enough money for weapons,” I said.

“Aye,” Fainn agreed. “That blacksmith didn’t stop all night.”

I let the conversation fade to noise as Alvilda offered weak protestations. I kept my eyes on the trees and rocks that passed us as we sailed downriver. The current lent us speed that would be hard to match on land, but I did not want to be caught out.

“When they meet us for the talks,” Alvilda said, “I will make sure that King Hraki makes up the rest of the money. We can take this as a token of good faith and work out how he will pay for the rest of them.”

I turned to Alvilda, incredulous that she still had faith in Hraki’s intentions. She sat on a bench by the rudder, biting her fingernails and staring into nothing. Hraki, directly and indirectly, had been the reason I was killed, my home had been destroyed, and my husband taken from me. The laws were the reason I hadn’t been able to reclaim my life. They were why my resurrection left me nothing but a tool. The laws were stacked in favour of kings and chieftains. For anyone else, to live by the letter of the law was to die by a thousand weeping cuts. It was not enough to know the laws, then. You had to know when to ignore them and when to bring them down like the Warrior’s hammer at those that abused them.

“Hraki is not going to pay for those ships,” I said. I tried to keep my voice soft but she flinched from its intensity all the same. “What about all those warriors that chased us out of there? We need to tell Erling to get ready for a fight. Maybe if Runar destroys Hraki’s longships before they leave we can—”

“No. I can’t let you do that,” Alvilda said and her voice echoed out across the deck. Tears welled in her eyes and underneath the force of her words I thought I heard something crack. “It is the gods’ law that none may take violent action against another in winter. Let all lay down their weapons as the ground grows cold and the night grows long.”

I moved over and sat next to her. “There are some people who don’t care about the law. They do what they want, Alvilda,” I said, gently this time. “Hraki is one of those people.”

“He wouldn’t just ignore the law. He paid for the boats in good faith.”

“He gave us the gold to buy himself time, Alvilda, not to pay for any damages.” I put my hand on her shoulder. Frost blossomed under my fingertips. “Sometimes people think they are above the laws, whether set by gods or mortals, and they cross lines they shouldn’t.”

“If the laws don’t work then what am I supposed to do?”

“Try and make them work,” I said. “The laws might not work all the time, but that’s only because people ignore them because they think they’re powerful enough to get away with it. But they can’t get away with it forever. You are powerful and you can make sure the laws apply to everyone equally. You did well to reopen the judgement about Dyggvi’s body. It will force Hraki to come to us. He’ll either come for a fight and then you can rule against him or he’ll come to make his case and we’ll finally be able to catch him out in his lies. Whatever happens, we’ll stop him.”

Alvilda offered me a weak smile. “I can’t think like that, Edda. I have to be impartial. I can’t go into this with the assumption I’m going rule against Hraki. I’m sorry.” She met my gaze and I saw a glint of steel in her eyes. “I will stand by the law and make sure it’s followed.”

I nodded and bunched my jaw before I replied. “And what if Hraki does come with an army? Will you force us to wait until he is charging across the battlefield?”

Alvilda’s brow furrowed and I could almost see the thoughts swirling in her head. Everyone on the longship stared. Even the ravens paused on the figurehead to face Alvilda.

“If it is clear that Hraki has no intentions to abide by the law and there is no time for us to wait for the High King’s response,” she paused. “Then I will rule against him, but if you or anyone else tries to deal the first blow before that judgement is made, then King Erling will face the wrath of the High King and all the gods.”

“Fine,” I said, “but we won’t stand around and do nothing.” I looked up at the ravens. “Gerda, tell Erling what Alvilda said, but you make damn sure he’s ready to fight if we need to.”

I stormed over to the oars and shoved someone out of the way. I set myself to the oar, pushing all of my frustrations out on the creaking wood. At my first stroke the longship veered off course and Valna had to jump to take another oar on the other side.

Between the fast-flowing current and the Windborn rowers, we sped down the fjord twice as fast as we had clawed our way upriver. Eventually, the night’s darkness became too deep and we were forced to stop. We found a safe place to beach the longship and the crew poured out of the longship like beetles from a rotten log. This time there was no laughter around the campfire. The fire spat and hissed at us as we cooked a stew. Everyone wordlessly collected their share. I took mine and sat on a rock at the edge of the firelight, once again next to Alvilda. I wolfed the meal down to try and feel some warmth in my body, but by my fourth mouthful the bowl was cold in my hands.

Valna wandered over to me and passed me a cupful of mead. I thanked her and took it.

“Why would he kill him?” Valna said into the quiet night. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t give us Soren. Alvilda, didn’t Hraki murder Soren? Shouldn’t we be arresting him or something?”

There was an edge of desperation to Valna’s words.

The law-keeper thought for a moment, staring into a now-empty cup, then shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do. We don’t know how Soren died, maybe he volunteered to die, but it doesn’t matter.”

“No?” I asked, curious how the death of a man could so easily be swept aside.

“No. He is... was one of King Hraki’s Windborn. If King Hraki did kill him then he was well within his rights to do so.”

My jaw dropped. Valna’s desperate stare turned into something hard, sharp. The people around us shifted away and found reasons to be busy. Olek sat next to Valna and put his hand on the small of her back. The gentle touch seemed to still something in Valna’s eyes.

“Are you telling me that because Soren is Windborn it doesn’t matter if he is murdered?” Valna whispered.

“No, no,” Alvilda said quickly. “If anyone else kills a Windborn except the person they’re sworn to, then it must be investigated, but a Windborn’s master must be able to act if they need to. It’s a safeguard.”

“Like we’re some kind of dog that needs to be put down if it turns rabid?” Valna growled.

I thought back to my fight in Konvald. No one had stepped in to help me, not that I needed it, but someone must have seen two people follow someone into an alley and known something was wrong. The words of the High King rang in my ears. I thought of how easily he made threats and how small I seemed to him. In his eyes I was Windborn and nothing more, something to be set to work or put down. Something owned.

“The law’s always been against the Windborn,” I said. Valna turned to me. There was hunger in her expression, for something more than I could give her in that moment. A hunger to be valued, and to be part of something bigger than herself.

“We’re just swords to them,” I said, trying to keep my words soft. “Sure, we can fly and we’re strong, but we’re still weapons to be pointed and loosed. Without a patron, a king to swear to, if we’re lucky, we’re nothing better than wolves to be hunted.”

My bladder pressed for my attention and I stood.

“Is that all we are?” Valna asked. “Weapons?”

I walked over and took her hands in mine. “Not to everyone. When I look at you I see a friend. And Olek doesn’t see you as a weapon, does he? He sees you. He sees the beautiful, exciting person that you are.”

The hunger in her eyes faded a little. Her desperation lost its edge. She glanced behind her to where Olek sat. He smiled and nodded.

“Right,” she said and turned back to me. I saw tears in her eyes. “It’s just a bit shit, isn’t it?”

“Very shit,” I said, “but there’s not a lot we can do. Now, I need a piss.”

Valna gave me a weak smile and patted my hand. I squeezed her hand and walked out of the camp.

I walked far enough that the sound of the river faded. I moved to the other side of a snowdrift that had collected against a copse of trees and crouched to add the sound of my own running water to the forest. I sighed, wishing that my breath would plume ahead of me, but there was nothing. I was frozen inside and out. I wondered how Erling would have reacted if a law-keeper demanded recompense for something I had done. Would he have paid the money, argued on my behalf, or have me killed to be done with it?

I finished pissing and stood, sorting out my clothes. The silence of the forest pressed in against me. Unease stirred in my chest. The only sound was the gentle hiss of fir branches rubbing against each other. I felt the echo of Windborn power somewhere nearby, too close to be Valna. The rustling of small creatures had stopped, even the ravens had ceased their incessant squawking.

My hand moved to my axe but before I could touch it I felt the cold, sharp iron press against my skin. I tried to look around and see who had their blade to my throat, but I couldn’t see anyone.

“Keep still,” a rough voice said. His voice was so close that he could only be Hraki’s invisible Windborn. “Take your hands away from the axe, nice and slow.”

As he spoke his figure appeared next to me. His silhouette appeared first then the details of his face and limbs then the colours of his clothes and hair. It was as though he stepped forward through shadow and the further he moved the more was revealed. He pressed the edge of a long knife against my throat. I kept my hand by my axe. I felt the Wind inside and teased it downward, hardening the snow around my feet and trying to snake ice around my assailant’s feet.

“Don’t be stupid,” he sneered and pressed the knife harder to my neck. “You make a move, I slice your throat. You make a sound, I slice your throat. You do anything I don’t like, I slice your throat. Your only way out of this is to come with me, nice and easy, so stop doing whatever the fuck it is you’re doing with your ice power and get your hand off your fucking axe.”

I swallowed and the edge of the knife cut into me. A drop of blood slid down my neck and soaked into my shirt. I leaned back. The knife edge followed.

“What do you want?” I said, trying to give myself some time.

“I want you to get your hand away from the fucking axe,” he growled. The pressure against my neck increased and there was a burning pain as the knife began to slide across my throat. I raised my hands and focused on the ice at my feet.

“I said to stop that, you think I can’t feel you doing that, you stupid bitch?”

He pressed harder. More blood tracked down my neck. I stopped pushing at the Wind inside me.

My captor narrowed his eyes at me, examining my expression for any potential trickery, then relaxed. “That’s better.”

He pulled the axe from my belt and tossed it carelessly into the snow-covered undergrowth.

“Come on, Jorunn,” he called behind him. “She’s alone.”

A shape lifted through the trees ahead of me and I realised what I had taken for a snowdrift was actually an enormous snow bear. It shook frost and pine needles from its coat and padded silently over to us. It sniffed at me and bared its teeth. Each glistening fang was as long as my head and I shuddered away from the stench of rotten meat. My heartbeat faltered when I saw black feathers stuck between its teeth. Raven feathers. Any hope I had that Gerda would bring help disappeared as the feathers fell from the snow bear’s jaws.

“Leave off,” my captor said and batted the bear on its flank.

The bear turned and snorted again before sitting behind me.

“Right,” the invisible Windborn said. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take the knife away, and you come with us. You make any noise, or try to make a run for it, then we kill you. No one’s going to care. Jorunn will mess you up a bit and everyone will think a snow bear found you. Got it?”

I tensed, wondering how fast a snow bear could move and how well it would balance if I could leave a trail of ice behind me. Maybe I—

A deep, bone-shuddering growl came from behind me.

“Fine,” I grated.

“Good,” the man said. He took the knife away slowly, like someone who had set a trap and did not want it to go off. When he saw I wasn’t going anywhere he relaxed. “Good,” he said again. “Now, off we go.”

He grabbed my arm roughly, steered me to the north and then shoved me forward.

“We’ve got a lot of ground to cover so let’s move.”

I tore my arm from his grip and began to walk. The man kept the knife out and followed behind me. After a moment, the bear lurched to its feet and trailed us too.

We marched through the snow and up the mountainside, heading straight back for Hraki’s stronghold. Once we had walked for about an hour the snow bear shivered, fur and flesh sloughed off of it like snowdrifts, and a woman walked alongside us. She was almost as enormous as the snow bear. She was a head taller than me and seemed twice as wide in the shoulders. She kept her gaze straight ahead and her expression was sour as my captor handed her some clothes.

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

She cuffed me, a casual blow that was enough to send me stumbling and set my ears ringing.

“She didn’t get to eat you,” the man said. “It’s not too late, though.”

I scowled at them both and kept walking.

After a few more hours, the one who would make himself invisible, Nal, called us to a halt in a clearing. He looked up through the gap in the trees, then put his fingers to his mouth and sent out a piercing whistle. As he did that, Jorunn dug around in the small snowdrifts and pulled free a coil of rope.

“Hands,” she grunted.

The boredom in her voice sent shivers of anger up my spine. Had I come all this way, lost everything, just to be tied up like some hunter’s quarry? I clenched my fists, filling them with shards of ice and frost, and held out my hands to be tied up. Jorunn shuffled forward, her eyes half-glazed and disinterested. As she reached out I flung the ice and frost into her eyes.

She reeled back with a yell. The other Windborn turned, but I was already running.

I ducked under branches and swerved through the trees. Jorunn’s yell turned into a bestial roar and the earth began to shake under the weight of enormous footsteps.

I summoned a spike of ice and got ready to defend myself in a last stand against Hraki’s Windborn.

Something slammed into me like a falling star. It hit me hard enough that it carried me forward, carving a deep furrow into the earth.

Rough fingers scratched my head and yanked back a fistful of hair.

“Hello, Edda,” a familiar voice wheezed. “Good to see you again.”

Lothi, Hraki’s flying Windborn.

“Is she alive?” called Nal from somewhere nearby.

Lothi twisted my neck to get a look at my face. I spat a bloody glob onto his cheek.

“She’s alive,” he shouted back, without wiping the blood off. “Got a broken nose, but she’ll live.”

My face was scraped raw from the impact with the ground, but my nose wasn’t broken. I snarled at him to get off and he punched me square in the face. I felt the cartilage in my nose snap and crunch. Pain shattered my vision and I blinked away stars.

“Give me the rope.”

Lothi pushed my face back into the ground. Dirt and snow forced its way into my mouth and nose, causing more spasms of pain. Someone grabbed my arms and legs and tied them tightly together. He looked over me like a hunter over their catch and then kicked me. More pain exploded in my side and I cried out as something snapped in my chest.

“Get me a gag,” he said. “Then I’ll take her back.”

My breath came in short bursts as anything more would have rekindled the pain in my chest like a lightning strike. Within a few heartbeats, my breath became soaked through with the rank, stale sweat of whoever they’d torn the cloth from.

“How long will you be?”

“Should be back by early morning. Jorunn can carry me again.”

“Make sure of it. He won’t wait for you.”

Someone lifted me up as easily as a sack of grain, and then the ground fell away beneath me. I bucked, ignoring the stabbing in my side.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Lothi drawled. “Or I’ll have to drop you into a river or something.”

I stiffened and watched as the trees became like ferns beneath us and blurred together. Rivers carved paths through the carpeted green and branches. The high winds whipped at my face, making tears stream down my face, and we flew north back to Hraki’s halls.

 

*

 

I fell in and out of consciousness as Lothi carried me across rivers and over mountains. I caught glimpses of the world below, breathtaking in a way I’d never seen before. Strong flowing rivers were reduced to quivering silver lines carving through blankets of white. Crags and boulders nothing more than specks of piled pebbles. Eventually, Hraki’s stone-cradled halls came into view. Lothi swooped easily over the walls, some of the guards cheered as he passed over, and then we were inside one of the buildings that looked to be an abandoned barn. A couple of people helped Lothi bind me with ropes to the thick wooden beams running along the length and breadth of the barn. Their rough hands shoved and prodded me, and I cried out at the ripping pain in my sides. I fell to my knees as soon as they stopped supporting me. My muscles shivered with exhaustion. I had been tensed against being dropped for the whole journey which took everything out of me. My eyelids fluttered closed.

“She’s no good to us like this,” Lothi said.

He grabbed my head and twisted it from side to side. I tried to snarl, bite, or wrench myself away but I had nothing left.

“Let’s give her a few hours then see if she’s still alive. You, make sure she doesn’t try anything.”

I heard some murmured acknowledgements. I tried to lift my head, but it was too heavy. I let my chin rest on my chest.

Consciousness left me again.

Someone threw water over me. I spluttered and flinched as it froze to my cheeks.

“See, told you she’s not dead.”

“Fine, go tell him.”

I blinked to clear the water and frost from my eyes. One of Hraki’s guards stood a few paces away, clutching a spear and eyeing me with a mixture of contempt and fear. Her grip tightened on her weapon when she noticed me watching her.

Sacks lined the walls of the storeroom, one of them was torn and grain spilled out onto the floor. Rubbish collected in the corners: rotting food, sodden piles of rags. I let my head slip down again and noticed, on the hard ground in front of me, streaks of frozen blood and chunks of cold meat. I tensed my arms, testing my bonds, and the guard stepped forward with a growl. She shoved the tip of her spear at me.

“Don’t try anything,” she snarled, but there was a quiver in her voice and the spear-tip wavered at the base of my throat.

“Okay,” I said. The words were muffled by the gag, but I hoped the tone of my voice would soothe her. “I’m not doing anything.”

After a moment the guard relaxed and stepped back.

We waited.

The walls and roof of the storeroom creaked as the wind picked up outside. I pushed a little power into the ropes around my wrists, they were too tight to break without the guard noticing, but for now I could soak them with brittle ice. The rough texture of the rope slowly smoothed as ice seeped through the fibres. My Windborn powers burned against the inside of my bruised ribs. The guard kept her eyes on me, but couldn’t sense when I was using my powers. I tensed my arms enough to be ready but not so much the ropes attaching me to the beams would go taught and give away my plan.

Footsteps outside. I stopped pushing ice into my bonds and looked to the door.

Hraki ducked into the room followed by Lothi and two other people I didn’t recognise, but neither of them wore the iron arm-ring of a Windborn.

“She still tried to get away,” Lothi said, “even with Jorunn and Nal there.”

Hraki stepped up to me, hands behind his back, and smiled. Even with ropes binding me like cattle ready for slaughter his cheery demeanour hadn’t changed.

“You’ve got a warrior’s spirit,” he said. “You came from the Kjaltonn coast, didn’t you? That’s where Soren said he became Windborn.”

I bared my teeth around my gag.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He leaned forward to look at the ice on my cheek. He picked a piece of it off then removed my gag.

I spat at him.

His face creased with distaste and he wiped away the spittle. The backhanded slap hit me before I saw it and it was so strong it rocked me to the side. I managed to balance myself before I toppled and snapped the frozen ropes around my wrists.

“There comes a time when a good warrior knows to put down their weapons,” he said, eyes sharp as flint. He waited for me to blink away the pain. “You can’t fight your way out of this. Your friends are a couple of days travel away and my people will kill you at a word from me.

“You’re strong, Edda. I respect strength. A strong enemy can be a strong ally.”

“Ally?” I snorted and nodded towards the streaks of crimson soaked into the floor. “I’ve seen what you do to your allies.”

“Soren was a fool,” Hraki said. “Too impetuous. He disobeyed Lothi numerous times. I sent him to parley with Erling to provide him with an opportunity for redemption, but what did he do? He burned down enough ships to bankrupt me and forced me to accelerate my plans. No, Soren was a liability. But you... you have tracked Soren with a singular will. Your tenacity is something few people possess.

“You’ve been sold a lie, Edda. The High King and Erling made themselves seem like the only option, but they’re wrong. There’s another way. I can offer you another path that leads to whatever your heart desires.”

“What other way?” I said.

“The High King is blinded by his own prejudice. His strength once united countless kings, queens, and clans under his banner, but ever since his daughter was crippled by a rogue Windborn he has been stuck following outdated laws and customs.

“I offer all my followers, even my Windborn, the same thing: if you help me fight, then you can have a share of the spoils. I don’t care what the laws say about Windborn and ownership. Those laws stifle those who have been blessed with Windborn powers because of old superstitions about where those powers come from. If you were part of my household you would be rich, powerful. Not just a tool for an old man too long on his throne. Fight by my side, with me and my Windborn, and no one will be able to stop us.”

“Why should I listen to you?” I said. “You sent the Wind-hunters that burned down my home.”

“And think about how much stronger you are now,” Hraki said, his voice crackling with passion.

The guards behind Hraki stared at me, fists gripped white-knuckle tight around their spears, but I wasn’t worried about them. Lothi’s disinterested gaze flicked from me to the dirt under his fingernails. If I was quick I could throw Hraki in Lothi’s way and give myself enough time to get away.

“Before you became Windborn you were what?” Hraki went on. “Some farmer’s daughter? Maybe a half-decent raider. Now look at you. You’re a god.”

He leaned in close enough that his breath, thick with mead and meat, brushed against my face.

“You fought Soren at the Althing and spoke out against me to the law-keepers gathered there, didn’t you?”

Gods above, it seemed so long ago that I fought in that muddy ring. I took too long to answer. Another backhanded slap sent me rocking before I saw it coming.

“How did you know I was making deals with Wind-hunters?”

I spat a tooth onto the floor. The Wind within me began to squirm and writhe. I looked over at Lothi who was still picking at the dirt in his nails.

“Soren used your name,” I said. “When he was talking with the other Wind-hunters. He said you sent them.”

“You see,” Hraki said over his shoulder to Lothi. “I told you Soren would have ruined us sooner or later.”

He leaned back in to speak with me, close enough that I saw my bloody reflection in his eyes.

“Break your oath to Erling and we can—”

I snapped the rope. My right hand swung around, a shard of ice forming between my fingers, to slam deep into Hraki’s throat. I twisted to shove him at Lothi.

He was too fast.

The shard of ice I intended for his neck instead sliced a line from his cheekbone to his mouth as he pulled away. He grabbed my other hand, pulled me around and slammed me onto the floor. His knee crashed into my chest and shoved all the air out from me.

I gasped then bucked to throw him off with all my Windborn strength.

He didn’t move.

Lothi rushed to help, but there was no need. Hraki had me pinned. His knee pushed into my chest and his hands locked my arms to the floor. I squirmed and tried to throw him off, but couldn’t. The Wind inside me roiled as I froze the ground beneath me to try and give myself some advantage.

Hraki scowled down at me, working his jaw against the healing wound in his face.

I stopped and stared up at him.

The skin, sliced through by my shard of ice, knitted itself back together. It healed faster than any Windborn wound I’d seen before. Bruised skin faded and, as I watched, the vicious wound disappeared and became nothing more than an old scar.

“You’re...”

Words failed me. This man was the catalyst for everything I had lost like the pebble that starts a landslide. He had dealt with Wind-hunters, lied to and bribed law-keepers, and murdered a prince. I bared my teeth and struggled against Hraki as the crow in my chest cried out with indignant rage, but he forced me back down. This man was the reason I was Windborn and because of him I would never get to grow old with my husband or even own anything ever again. All of it, every blood-stained act, was to hide the fact that he was resurrected. He was Windborn and he refused to be bound by the same laws as everyone else.

Hraki’s expression soured. All the cautious warmth that had been in his eyes when he had been trying to recruit me was gone and now his gaze was filled with hostile irritation.

“Help me,” he said to Lothi.

Lothi grabbed one of my arms and Hraki took the other. Between them, they forced me up and onto my knees and twisted my arms behind my back so I couldn’t struggle against them without breaking a bone.

“Bring that stool,” Hraki ordered.

One of the guards set it down in front of us. Hraki and Lothi forced me down, pressing my cheek against the smooth wood. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the other guard pull an axe from somewhere. Not a slim woodcutter. A big, broad killer. He hefted the axe and walked over.

I bucked.

Lothi and Hraki held firm.

I wrenched myself again and broke myself. My left arm popped out of its socket in a blinding flare of pain. The muscles in my right arm tore as I stretched too far to escape. I screamed and twisted away. My hands, slick with melted frost, slipped out of their grasp. I smashed an elbow against one of them and stumbled towards the door.

The axe-wielding guard swiped at me. I was already beside him. His blade nicked my shoulder as I ducked under the axe and the shaft thudded into my collarbone. I made to punch him. My arm screamed in painful protest and refused to move.

I yelled and headbutted him. There was a wet crunch and he crumpled.

I sidestepped the body and darted for the door, desperately reaching for the cold wind outside.

Something slammed into me.

Lothi.

“You can’t run away,” he growled. “I thought you’d have learned that by now.”

I snarled, started to spit something back at him, but a hot eruption of pain cut me short. It came again and again. Agony lanced into my stomach, scraped across my ribs, and stabbed into my neck. Lothi stood. His hand, clutching a knife, now dripping dark with my blood.

I tried to get away, but my body refused to move. My mind became a litany of desperate, impossible instructions. Roll away. Drag yourself away. Get out. Live.

My fingers scraped at the hard dirt beneath me. Hot stains seeped through my clothes. My vision blurred and someone joined Lothi to stand over me. They rubbed at their red-stained face.

“Throw her with the rest of the rubbish,” Hraki’s cold voice said.

Someone grabbed my arms and pulled me out of the barn. My world became an avalanche of pain. The agony in my arms and shoulders reignited for a split second, eclipsing the pain racking my body. They dragged me around the side of the building, then, in a final rending effort, I was tossed away.

My vision faded to shades of grey and the world disappeared. I prayed, if the gods still listened, that this time I would die and whatever was left of my soul could finally rest.