Page 14 of Vow of the Undead
“Where is King Drakkar now?” I shifted the conversation away from my worries before I lashed out at him and earned another palm to the face.
He sighed and took a gulp from a tankard of ale. “South of us. Torsholt. We are to join them on their journey back to Mara now that you’ve been found.”
“You weren’t looking for me.”
He laughed. “Winter has arrived early. I knew you’d be back before the first snow hit the ground.”
That wasn’t entirely true. I’d lasted almost two nights, and I’d only returned because of the vision. But if I told my father that, he’d simply deny my nature as a witch. To him, I’d come crawling back because I was weak, pathetic, and scared.
“What’s in Torsholt?” A criminal to be executed? More witches to exile or force into servitude?
He laughed again. “Perhaps the king will tell you.”
I gritted my teeth. If I were a mere servant, would I even have the chance to speak with King Drakkar?
Come to me.The vision hinted he’d talk to me, that he’d invite me into his castle. This promise meant I could at least ask him about the historical records stored there.
“If they’re in Torsholt, we should leave tonight to catch up with them.” I spoke louder, my chin lifted. I was eager to leave.
My father coughed, spluttering with ale. He slapped his chest to clear the shock away and get his choking under control. The glint in his eye was one I’d never known. Curiosity?
No, wait. I’d seen this before, whenever he sat in that damn chair in front of the people he respected in Skaldir the most. Pride.
For a single second, he was proud of me.
Maybe I’m not so weak.But I couldn’t relish the thought or the look on his face because the memory of Astrid and Sten’s lifeless eyes clouded my mind. I was far worse than merely weak or foolish.
Evil.
Selfish.
Murderous.
No, stay the course.I repeated words my mother had said to me before the executioners dragged her away and into exile.Stay the course. Don’t let your dwelling paralyze you. Use it.Like she used her talent with weaving to keep the history alive, to communicate with other witches, and to protect them. I had to reach her, and I was given a direct invitation to Mara’s Keep to find her, even if it cost me my life. Whether in servitude or worse.
I buried all other thoughts, locking them away like a prisoner. Memory of Astrid and Sten’s limp bodies thrashed against the prison walls.
Stay the course.I could hate myself for what I’d done once my mother was free.
I lifted my chin, holding my father’s gaze until he looked away. He sniffed and took a quick swig of the ale.
He kept his eyes down on his drink when I spoke again. “Since you knew I’d return, I expect you have provisions ready?”
He nodded, eyes still on his ale. “I will accompany you, and my wife will take over as Vyl here while I’m gone.”
I said nothing else as I strode out of the council hall, ready to gather my things and leave. Eager to run from Skaldir and leave every disturbing memory behind. Maybe in Mara, I’d forget what I’d done.
If I could keep the thoughts locked away.
My father was a liar. Provisions were not ready.
After leaving him behind in the council hall last night, sleep had sucked me in. I’d collapsed in my bed and slept hard, waking only because my frayed nerves had plunged me into cyclical nightmares.
As soon as morning arrived, I forced my aching body out of bed and made my way to the stables where my father said he’d stored packed provisions.
Provisions was a strong word for the meager collection of pelts for blankets and animal hide tents. And though the horses had been fed, their hooves were not yet cleaned and inspected for sores. Their saddles and packs were left at the door of the stable where the wooden shelter opened up into the wide pen.
I knelt before the packs and inspected the rest of the supplies. The men he’d handpicked to travel with us packed flint and steel to start fires, but no pots or wooden spoons or bowls with which to eat meals.
