He sucks in a huge breath and shuts his eyes.
It hits me, first Sharkman and now this: my friends love me terribly, and their grief will be a screaming storm if I die.
I know what that grief is like.
I throw my arms around Soren. He balks for a hot moment, then hugs me back. I lay our cheeks together and softly say into his ear, “I have to do this because I want to serve the god of the hanged, and this is how I prove myself to myself. I face myself; I face destiny with my eyes open. And moreover, it’s right.”
“I don’t trust your god of the hanged, or his cousins.”
“You don’t have to.”
Soren groans.
“What would Astrid say?”
His dark eyes sadden, but his mouth pulls into a tight smile. “She’d want to know if we have a sword her size.”
“I knew I liked her,” I say, nudging him away so I can shower.
Downstairs, Rathi is arguing with Soren over the keys to the Mad Eagles SUV. He’s rolled up the sleeves of his pin-striped shirt, and his tie is unknotted. The moment I enter the kitchen Rathi whirls to me. “Signy, tell them I’m going with you.”
“I want you safe.”
“I don’t care. The island was my idea, and you couldn’t have gotten it without me. And, regardless, I have to be there with you.” His hair is ruffled, and with his loose tie, with his sleeves rolled up, he’s more like my old wish-brother than he’s been in a long while. But it’s not excitement coursing through him; it’s desperation.
“Why?” I ask, stepping nearer.
His entire face twists with grief. “I wasn’t there when my parents died. You know what that’s like, Signy.”
Soren gets my attention over Rathi’s shoulder, and when I glance at him, he nods. Just like Astrid, Rathi wants a sword his size. I squeeze his hand. “All right. All right.” I rise onto my toes and kiss him. Rathi leans his forehead against mine.
I can’t help thinking we need our King Hrothgar to make the cycle complete.
The semi-trailer the Mad Eagles transported Red Stripe in from Halifax is parked in an abandoned warehouse lot fifteen minutes away. Sharkman and Rathi go get it while Darius, Soren, and Thebes make a run for extra camping supplies. I wake up Red Stripe and feed him again, and by the time he’s rubbed down they’ve arrived with the transport. I join Darius and Thebes in the foyer, where they’re going over a long checklist surrounded by hard weapons boxes and backpacks, nylon bags of tents and tarps, folding chairs, gas cans and batteries, and a camp stove, plus our suitcases and crates of food. Once we’re on the island, getting back to a city for something we forget will be rough.
It’s three hours till sunset when we’re all ready but for loading Red Stripe.
We stand in a circle for a moment, as if waiting for somebody—me—to give a rousing speech about our mission and purpose. I stare at Rathi, the sheath strapped over his shoulder incongruous with his loose tie and the shine of his loafers. Soren stands in an orange T-shirt and jeans, his father’s sword in his relaxed hand, and the three Mad Eagles are broad ravens all in black, steel glinting from hips and shoulders and boots, and shields against their backs like massive dark halos.
“Where’s your sword?” Soren asks me.
Everybody stares at the empty sheath hanging from the baldric strapped across my chest. They all know Ned’s alive, and so what can I say?
Darius offers me his sword, hilt-first.
The doorbell rings.
We all freeze. I jerk forward to swing it open, ready to scare whoever it is away with the circle of large, well-armed men behind me.
Ned Unferth stands there, holding Hrunting in his hand.
TWENTY-FIVE
IN THE GLOOMY evening light, Ned gives me a tight smile and lowers his sword until the tip nearly skims the porch. He’s dressed in the same dark shirt and black jeans as last night, a knife strapped to his thigh and another in his belt.
I step aside to let him in, pressing my spine to the doorway so he doesn’t have to brush against me. But he ignores everyone to stop under the lintel and face me. “I need to talk to you,” he says.
There’s a rumble from the Mad Eagles and Rathi says, “It’s Ned Unferth.”
I keep my eyes on Ned’s. “We were leaving; we have to go.”
“Signy, you have to—” He reaches for my elbow and I jerk it away so hard it smacks into the wall.
Thebes and Sharkman have Ned in an instant, dragging him inside and away from me. He doesn’t fight as they throw him past all our gear and into the empty dining room. Sharkman pulls Hrunting out of Ned’s grip and hands it to Darius. We follow the berserkers.
Ned sits slowly up and wipes a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “Call off your dogs, little raven,” he says.
Sharkman kicks him down again.
“Stop.” My voice is hard and doesn’t shake.
Rathi pushes past me and kneels beside Ned, offers him a hand up at the same time he glares at me. “What is wrong with you? He’s still a man.”
“Yes, Signy,” Ned says, knocking away Rathi’s hand. “What’s wrong with you?”
I clench my fists. The three Mad Eagles array themselves behind me and Soren goes to the window, where he crosses his arms over his chest in disapproval. I say, “Ned knew about the Vinland troll attack before it happened, and he did nothing.”
Rathi’s hand slowly falls, along with his face. He looks from me to Ned. “You did?”
Ned nods once and manages, somehow, not to sneer.
“Why?”
“I had my reasons.”
“Don’t lie to my brother!” I yell, leaping forward. Darius catches me around the waist and I struggle out of his arm.
Ned holds up his hands. “I came to—Signy, send them away; let me talk to you.”
“Whatever you have to say you can say to them. I’ll only tell them later. That’s what trust is.”
He stares at me, as if his eyes hold any power over me anymore. Then he sighs. He scoots back to lean his shoulders against the bare wall. “She’s coming for you. Tonight.”
“And she knows where I am because you told her.”
Ned grimaces. “One of the prairie trolls found her and told her. Just like I found you because the cat wight who followed you home last night told me. They’re watching this house even now.”
“And before that?” I grip my hips, fingers bent so hard against my jeans I think they might break.
From the floor, Ned gives me a parody of a smile. “Yes. I knew you would come to Ohiyo after her.”
“You called in the tips to get me there. For her.”
“To get both of you together again!”
“In Ohiyo!”
Rathi inserts himself between Ned and me. “What happened on Vinland? How did you know about the attack?”
“It doesn’t matter right now, Rathi.” I face him, breathing hard. “He has nothing to do with what happens next.”
“You’re wrong, little raven,” Ned says. “I have everything to do with it.”
“Don’t call me that anymore.”
“What would you have us do, Signy?” Soren asks quietly, his first words since I opened the front door. He walks over to me and slips his hand against my back. I lean into the comfort.
Ned sees it, and his colorless eyes narrow at Soren and me.
“We should chain him up in the garage and get to the ship,” Sharkman suggests with a malicious grin.
I stare down at Ned to consider it. He tilts his head back to meet my gaze and I am struck again by how tired he appears. His eyes pinch at the corners; his mouth is flat and pale. Even his braids seem limp. I step over his legs and crouch so I’m straddling his thighs, and I take his head in my hands. “Tell me, Ned Unferth. Why I shouldn’t do what he says and leave you here, chained.”