Page 106 of Blood Beneath the Snow

Did Jac feel as dead inside as he looked? A shiver ran through me, from my head through my toes. If he backed out, decided not to compete, they would kill him. But I wouldn’t hold him to his deal. Not when everything was crumbling to pieces around us, an avalanche of loss sweeping away our determination like it had never been.

Am I ready to die?

Alone against Björn and Erik, death was my only possible fate.

I waited for a snappy response from Frode in response to my darkening thoughts, but none came. The wind whistled, filling the silence, but my heart felt like lead, sinking to the bottom of my stomach like an anchor.

“I suppose, whether I’m ready or not, Aloisa will come for me regardless,” I murmured, running a hand over the pommel of my sword. “She comes to take us all eventually.”

28

My heart thudded at thethought of seeing Freja again. After the way we had left things, I wasn’t sure she would want my company, but knowing I might die without seeing her again left a ragged ache in my heart. Combined with the one Frode left, it was too much for me to stomach.

The hallways were dim and damp—the same as when I’d left for the front. They were lonelier without Frode or even Volkan keeping me company. I tossed my cloak over my shoulders, less for the warmth it provided than for something to dig my fingernails into and pull tight around my shoulders. Underneath, I’d concealed another cloak Halvar had given me. Though thinner, I had no doubt it would provide my friend some much-needed warmth.

Perhaps it would serve as a gift of reconciliation, too.

I heard Freja whistling as soon as I emerged from the stairwell. It might have put a smile on my face if a single thing about today were different. But instead I’d come to deliver the news my brother was dead, I’d been kidnapped by the Hellbringer, and Arne and I were no longer on speaking terms.

I wasn’t looking forward to telling her all of that.

She heard my footsteps when I was several feet away. “Revna?” she called. “Is that you?”

She grinned at me when I peered into her cell. This time I couldn’t keep the ghost of a smile from slipping across my face. Freja came over to the bars and reached out to brush her hand across my face.

“You look like death,” she said.

She wasn’t wrong—Halvar had said much the same when I stopped by before coming here. When I glanced in the mirror before leaving the Sharpened Axe, the circles under my eyes made me cringe.

I took in her appearance. The light was back in her eyes, and while her face was covered in dirt, she looked happier than when I had left for the front. There was a cloak around her shoulders already, but I noted goose bumps on her arms nonetheless. As much as I wanted to ask her how she was, I had to apologize first.

“Freja, I’m so sorry.” I laid my forehead against the freezing metal bars. “The last time I saw you, I—”

“Stop.” She squeezed my hand. “You don’t need to apologize. If anyone does, it’s me. What I said was cruel. I didn’t mean it.”

The wave of relief washed over me and made my knees weak. “I didn’t mean any of it either,” I said. “Oh, here. I brought you another cloak.”

She squeaked with excitement, and when I handed it to her, she pulled it around her shoulders immediately, covering the thinner one she already wore. When she sighed with relief, I felt the cold leave my own veins. There was a blanket in the back corner of her cell, carefully hidden from prying eyes, but it surely wasn’t enough on especially cold nights.

“You look better,” I said.

She chuckled a bit. “I’m not as lonely anymore—I made friends with my neighbor.” Freja gestured toward the cell to her left.

I leaned over enough to catch a glimpse of a wizened old person with pure white hair curled up in the corner. They didn’t acknowledge me.

“How was the front?” Freja asked.

Dread sank like a rock in my stomach. I recounted the events of my time away, from my kidnapping to my confrontation with Arne to Frode’s death. I left out significant amounts of my time with the Hellbringer, though, including how much I’d trusted him and cared for him, especially at the end. I already realized my own stupidity. I didn’t need someone else to point it out. By the time I finished talking, the color had drained from Freja’s face.

“You were kidnapped by the Hellbringer,” she whispered, her hand moving to her mouth. I couldn’t distinguish whether shock or amazement made her jaw drop. “What was he like? Is it all true? All of the legends?”

I shrugged. “He says they are, and I believe him. When I was with him in the prison, I started thinking there might be something more to him, something real hidden underneath the mask. But”—I shook my head—“he would have killed me. I don’t know why he decided to kill Frode instead.”

“That surprises me, especially since he offered you a truce from the queen.” Freja frowned, chewing on her bottom lip.

I nodded. “I thought so, too.”I also thought he might have loved me.

I ignored the disappointment welling in my stomach.

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