Page 76 of A Curse Carved in Bone
Nodding, I placed the moment I’d first stepped on this island in my mind’s eye, then began to draw the runes. My eyes burned as I forcedmyself to remember everything, drawing the last rune as I watched Harald and Tora disappear from sight.
“Step to the far side of your prison,” Ylva said, then jerked her chin at Bjorn. “You as well.”
We obeyed while Ylva scratched markings of her own in the dirt outside our prison, pressing one hand to them. “It will keep me from being caught by the wards,” I heard her tell Ragnar, though I noted that he also took a firm grip on her arm, ready to pull her out of reach.
“She’ll never forgive what I did nor should she,” Bjorn said softly, donning his mail vest. “But she will see that you are not to blame. If she allows only you freedom, take it.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“Yes, you will,” he said. “Make a plan with Ylva to get my brother free, and then you can come back for me.”
There wasn’t a chance I was leaving Bjorn to die in this prison, but the moment to argue was over, because Ylva reached through and placed a hand on the circle of runes. Her whole body stiffened as her mind was filled with my memory, and I had to force myself to breathe.
“Saga?” Ylva whispered, then she shook her head, muttering, “No, please no.”
Guilt soured my empty stomach as I watched emotion play across her face, her eyes shifting back and forth, time seeming to stand still. Then, beneath her palm, the runes turned to ash and Ylva withdrew her hand, sitting down hard in the melting snow.
“My lady?” Ragnar gripped her shoulders. “What do you wish for us to do?”
Ylva didn’t answer, only stared and stared, and my heart raced, because what if watching Snorri die had broken her? What if my gambit had failed?
Then Ylva straightened, and it was like watching a wall being rebuilt, stone by stone, higher and higher until it was strong once more. She stood. “It is as they say. Harald is a child of Loki and able to take on the shape and voice of anyone he chooses to mimic. A trickster whotakes great pleasure in making everyone dance to the beat of his drum, and his heritage must be revealed.”
She drew in a steadying breath, then fixed her eyes on Bjorn. “I know your actions were motivated by false beliefs put into your head by Harald, but I still find that I cannot forgive you for killing your father. He was the great love of my life, and part of my heart has died with him.”
I tensed, trying to come up with a plan for a situation where she agreed to release me but not Bjorn, then Ylva said, “Yet Snorri died trying to protect you. He forgave you. I will not dishonor him by allowing Harald the victory of your death, Bjorn, but in exchange for your life, I want your word that you’ll dedicate it to avenging your father.”
“You have it.”
Ylva gave a tight nod, then began to move slowly around the perimeter of our prison, etching markings over Harald’s, which disappeared with puffs of black smoke. Then she gestured at us. “Come.”
I exhaled a breath of relief, for though what would come next would not be easy, at least it wouldn’t be dying of starvation and exposure on a deserted island in the middle of the Northern Strait.
“I need to pull you across the wards.” Ylva held out her hand. “Harald’s magic is complex, and I could not vanquish it entirely.”
I started to reach for her, then hesitated, for I did not put it past her to let me out but leave Bjorn trapped as revenge for Snorri’s death. “Bjorn, you first. I don’t trust her.”
His axe flared to life in his hand, and with the other he took hold of Ylva, who pulled him across. He let go of her immediately. “Now Freya.”
Ylva reached toward me. But behind Bjorn, Ragnar lifted a heavy cudgel. “Bjorn!” I shouted. “Behind you!”
My warning was too late. The heavy wood struck his skull with a crack. Bjorn dropped like a stone, and I screamed, lunging, only to rebound off a barrier that seemed very much in place.
Ragnar and two of the other warriors flung themselves on Bjorn, binding his wrists behind his back.
“You didn’t really believe I’d let you out, did you, Hel-child?” Ylva asked, stepping back. “One with your power cannot be suffered to live, cursing the souls of those who deserve to join the Allfather to languish with your godly mother in Helheim.”
Bjorn was stirring, regaining consciousness, and Ylva glanced at him. “I’ll trade him for Leif. Perhaps Bjorn will manage to fulfill his promise and will put an end to Harald. Perhaps he’ll do it in time to come rescue you before you starve. Or perhaps your fate is to die an honorless death and join your mother in her realm.”
I screamed and pounded my fists against the barrier. Bjorn’s eyes opened, and he flung himself from side to side as the men dragged him up, his voice garbled through the gag they’d forced into his mouth. But I still understood what he said:Don’t do it. Don’t call her name.I’ll get you free.
“Bjorn!” I howled his name, but the name I wanted to scream was Hel’s. To curse Ylva and her warriors to Helheim so that we could walk free. But his green eyes pleaded for me to hold my tongue. Pleaded with me to trust him to win me free another way. And even now, that cursed oath bound me to obey.
My knuckles split from hammering my fists against the magic, and Ylva sighed. “I believed Saga’s foretelling meant you would accomplish great things. But all you’ve done is destroy. Goodbye, Freya.”
I howled as they dragged Bjorn away, then fell to my knees and sobbed. For him. For myself. For everyone who had fallen victim to Harald’s trickery.
Exhaustion finally took me, and I curled up in the driest spot I could find, knowing that there was little chance I would survive the night. That I would freeze to death, my corpse confined until the end of days in the circle of wards that boundme.
