Page 72 of Kingdom of Embers and Ruin

As Bryn rounded the corner, she saw the man who owned this house and who she had come to speak with.

He had shaved the sides of his head since the last time she saw him. The white-blond hair that remained on the top of his head braided into a knot in the back of his head, ice blue eyes piercing her as they always did. Bryn gave him a saccharine smile and a mock bow before she moved toward him. They each extended an arm, grasping each other's forearms in greeting.

“Sigurd, it’s good to see you,” Bryn said, her smile now genuine.

“Hello, Bryn,” Sigurd said, his smile warm.

They separated, each finding a seat around the small living space next to the bookcase that led to The Broken Bones Pub.

“What brings you here tonight? I wasn’t expecting you for another two weeks,” Sigurd said.

“I need to hide something here that’s too dangerous to keep at the barracks,” Bryn started slowly. “I found out some information about someone at the palace, and if the King knew about it, he’d kill me.”

If Sigurd was curious about what the information was, he did not ask. Bryn exhaled a sigh of relief before she withdrew the four diaries her mother kept. There had been more, of course, but she assumed they had been destroyed during her father’s rampage.

“I see,” Sigurd said as he rubbed a hand over his chin, the fine silver blonde hair of his beard growing in. “Well, you can keep them here, but there’s no guarantee that no one will read them.”

“I’ll hide them well enough,” Bryn brushed off.

“You’d better. The last group I had here didn’t do well cooped up all day and went through all the belongings left here over the years,” Sigurd said with a small laugh.

Bryn made her way toward the bookcase that she knew led to the underground fighting pits Sigurd ran. She opened a few books and cut into the thick pages with her knife to create a small pocket inside each large volume housed on the shelves. Placing the small diaries into four different books, she returned them to the shelves in random spots.

“What’s written in those diaries that is so dangerous? Are they your deepest, darkest secrets, Brynna?” Sigurd teased from the kitchen.

Bryn chuckled and ignored the use of her full name.

“No, I don’t write my secrets down. These belonged to someone else,” Bryn said as she made her way back to the kitchen.

Sigurd had been stocking the shelves with supplies when she arrived. She expected that he had more rebels that he would be housing soon since she knew Sigurd didn’t stay here. At the thought of why Sigurd avoided this house, a knot formed in Bryn’s throat.

Before she had taken up her position as Lieutenant General, Sigurd’s family had been taken from him by her uncle for theirgalder. Unable to do anything but witness, Bryn had sworn to herself that she would do everything she could to prevent that from happening again.

Bryn had searched for Sigurd shortly after they had been taken to set up a partnership where they could work together. At the point of his axe under her chin, Bryn had spoken quickly enough that he had agreed to work with her on smuggling thevitkiand their families out of Logi.

Though he believed she was just a foot soldier in the army, they became fast friends through the dangerous work of aiding rebels in this city.

“I should get going before the soldier I lost in the market finds me again,” Bryn said, mourning her lack offreedom.

“It was good to see you, Bryn; I hope things are working in our favor,” he said quietly.

Bryn didn’t respond. She turned to go up the stairs and left the same way she had come when she remembered the collapsed tent on the roof.

“I think someone may have been camping out on your roof; there’s an old tent set up,” Bryn warned him.

Sigurd let out a chuckle before he responded. “That belonged to a pit fighter that had been staying here. She left a few days ago with the last group that I housed. She has a nasty temper, and I assume she camped out there rather than hanging around with the other people here.”

“She sounds like someone I would be friends with,” Bryn said, amused.

“You and Maude would be fast friends after you were both done pulling knives on each other,” Sigurd laughed.

Bryn controlled her face as shock rippled through her.

Maude had been staying here last.

She knew that Sigurd and Maude were friendly; Bryn had pushed them toward each other, knowing they each needed the other. But facing the reality of their timid friendship had made her feel off balance for a moment. Sigurd continued, not noticing Bryn’s silence.

“Regardless, she’s left Logi.”

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