Page 154 of Prize for the King
I clear my throat, the sound ragged and tight. I refuse to look at the grisly sight again, the pale skull and the bird that might carry my father’ssoul, but even if I don’t see it, I am aware of its dark, vengeful presence. Anguish and horror rise inside me, and all I can think is:my father’s not dead.
I am not safe. I’ll never be safe.
XLVII Moons
“Caliane?” Magnar asks, his voice coming as if from afar.
I realize I’m shaking, my hands pressed to my mouth, a pitiful sound of terror pouring out through my clenched teeth.
“Do you want it dead?” someone asks, and in my state, I can’t discern the voice.
“Yes,” I force out. “Please. Don’t let him hurt me.”
There’s a hiss, a squawk, and a small flutter. I turn with a gasp. The crow is but a pile of feathers lying at the foot of the spike, pierced through with Arvi’s knife. I don’t dare breathe yet. I remember how my father died from Magnar’s blows, and I refused to look at him, trying to convince myself he’d get up if only I didn’t see him.
Now, I am scared to look away or even blink, unreasonably terrified the creature will come alive if I let it out of my sight.
Arvi goes ahead and picks up the bird, turning it this way and that. Finally, he removes his knife. His eyes are calm and serious as they lock with mine.
“It’s dead, sweet. See? No more crow. Just like your father. It’s dead.”
I shake harder, but at least I’m silent now. Volgar has tactfully turned away, and Magnar pulls me into a tight embrace, wrapping his cloak around me until I’m swathed in a cocoon of his warmth andscent. Slowly, I begin to relax, though my teeth chatter still, and my knees knock together.
“Go ahead,” Magnar commands someone. “Bath, food, the works. Whatever else you come up with. And grab Anke.”
“Who’s Anke?” I manage to ask, my voice weak.
“A midwife I brought just in case. She’s worked in Troos and Zanvar for years, delivered many mixed babies.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him, burrowing deeper into his warmth. “Only spooked. It’s silly.”
He sighs, his chest expanding under my cheek. “But it’s not. You’re not easily scared or superstitious. You don’t even believe in gods and souls, and yet, this stupid bird made you almost faint. I wish you’d tell me, love. Not knowing scares me, because I can tell it’s something very bad. You shouldn’t carry this alone.”
“I’ll tell you. Soon. Can we go?”
Magnar picks me up with ease. I feel like a ghost when familiar corridors blur past as he carries me, tapestries I never noticed before because they were always there, furniture that’s so much smaller and more fragile than the furnishings in Magnar’s keep.
Everything is small here.
When we enter my old room, I groan seeing the copper tub half-filled with hot water. Arvi adds more from a bucket, and Khay hauls two empty buckets away. Raduna is nowhere to be seen.
“No plumbing,” Khay says with a grin. “Who’s an uncivilized monster now, my lady?”
“Evidently humans,” I say with a weak laugh. “I can’t wait to go back home. I miss my bathroom.”
Magnar shivers and presses me closer, dropping his face low to mine. As soon as I look up, he claims my lips in a kiss. It’s tender and sweet, his breath a bit shaky.
“What?” I ask, bemused. “I’m really fine. You can let me down.”
He smiles and doesn’t move. “It’s not that. You called Roharra home.”
“Oh.”
He kisses me again, then grudgingly lets me to my feet when Khay returns with two final buckets. Magnar removes his cloak and sits back with his arms folded, staring like a hawk as Khay and Arvi help me undress. I don’t think he believes my assurances that I’m well.
When I lower myself into the tub, I sigh from bliss. Magnar comes over, laying his hand on my belly, his eyes intent.
“It’s a bit rounded. Khay, come here. What do you think?”
