Page 27 of Blood Beneath the Snow

“I’m so sorry,” I said. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—release her hand. “This is my fault and I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Did you talk to your father?”

“He won’t help.”

She let out a sigh and tried to tuck her hair behind her ear, to noavail. “I figured. We’ve done our fair share of mischief over the years, but stepping in to stop a ritual…I can’t say I blame him.”

I rubbed a hand over my pounding forehead. “We’ll figure something out. There are a few days before the wedding. I’ll make sure you’re free before then.”

“You can’t actually think your father would let me go.”

“He won’t. But I’ll get you out.”

“To do what?” she scoffed. “Leave Bhorglid? Leave my mother behind? Never see my brother again? I’d rather be here than separated from my family.”

Bitterness welled within me. She would turn down her freedom—not just from this prison but from her life as a godforsaken. I wanted to take my own offer, run and be free without ever having to see my family again. It took all my discipline to swallow the anger.

“How is Arne?” she asked, breaking the silence. Her tone was too stiff, too forced. She’d always been able to read my moods.

I shrugged, thinking of his expression at the Sharpened Axe last night when I’d mentioned the early arrival of the Fastians. Stony and cold. “I haven’t seen him at all today. But I don’t think he’s happy.” A pang echoed through my chest. “What I wouldn’t give for things to go back to normal.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she said. “I agreed to help. I was the one who planned it all. I wouldn’t have gotten involved if it wasn’t a cause I believed in. In the end, we just sped up the timeline a bit.”

We fidgeted in silence, Volkan’s presence keeping us from divulging all our feelings. He didn’t know about my history with Arne, and I didn’t want to tell him before I knew what he would think.

Freja and I wholeheartedly believed in our cause. But believing it and accepting the consequences for it looked different for the two of us.

“You were never supposed to end up in prison,” I finally protested. “I’m sorry, Freja. I shouldn’t have asked you to be a part of this.”

For a moment, her eyes lit with fire. “Stop apologizing. We did the right thing. I’ve been willing to accept my fate since we started this. You should be, too.”

“Willing to accept my fate?”

“No. Willing to accept mine.”

“You want me to leave you here?” My voice broke. “I won’t.”

She reached through the bars, her face set, and grabbed the collar of my dress. Her voice lowered to a raspy whisper. “No. You’ll ruin everything. Just because I have to rot in a prison cell doesn’t mean you need to martyr yourself. You have a future to think about.”

Lowering my voice to match hers, I didn’t hesitate to let my anger show through. “I’m not going to leave you here. I’d never forgive myself.”

She frowned and released me, crawling back to the dark corner of the cell. “You should go.”

I stood and Volkan followed suit. My fingernails dug into my palms, and I struggled to keep my voice steady. “I would do anything to get you out of here, Freja. Iwilldo anything. I hope you know that.”

She nodded, expression sour. “I know.”

Exiting the prison felt like walking to the gallows.

The scenery around the isolated building was unchanged from when we entered—flakes of snow drifted down around us, pure against the background of scattered pines that dotted the hillside.

Just before I lost myself in the sorrow of accepting my fate, Volkan placed a hand on my shoulder. “Revna,” he said slowly, “I think I have an idea.”

7

Volkan paced back and forthacross Halvar’s secret basement room, anxiety radiating off him in waves.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I griped, not for the first time. “Or are we going to continue like this?”

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