Page 48 of Sky in the Deep
We didn’t move. We didn’t make a sound.
I searched for a stone on the ground and when I’d found one about the size of my palm, I stood.
Fiske’s hand caught my wrist, stopping me. “I should go.”
“I’ve got him, Fiske,” I whispered. I was smaller and faster, less easily seen. As soon as he came out of the brush, they’d spot him.
He looked at me for another moment before he let me go, and I lifted one foot. I moved slowly, avoiding the patches of light on the forest floor. Fiske followed behind me with one hand pressed to my back.
The clouds moved overhead and darkened the forest again as the horse neared us. Fiske pulled the knife from his belt, sinking down, and I raised the rock in my hand. As soonas the next group of Herja passed, I swung my arm back and flicked my wrist, sending the rock skidding over the brush between the trees, like it was skipping on water. It crossed in front of the horse and the animal reared up, its nostrils flaring.
Halvard steadied himself against a tree and the horse stamped the ground nervously as the other Herja continued down the path. I slipped my knife from its sheath.
The two Herja walking behind caught up, one of them taking the reins and clicking his tongue to calm the animal. “Cut that one free.” He nodded toward the dead Riki on the ground.
I took one step as the second man obeyed, crouching down to saw at the rope with the blade of his axe. The riggings rattled and I cut left, going wide around the horse to across the path still shrouded in darkness. Ahead, the Herja still moved down the slope.
I came up on the first man’s side fast. By the time he heard me, it was too late. I leapt up, hooking my arm around his neck and pulling the knife across his throat until blood spurted out in a pulsing stream. Fiske dropped the other man beside him and Halvard’s eyes found us in the dark. He instantly began to cry.
Down the path, more Herja were coming.
“Shh.” I reached him, cutting through the rope in one motion and shoving him toward Fiske. He picked Halvard up and the boy’s arms and legs wrapped around him as he started back up the slope.
Then I saw her.
Standing on the trail, with a rope around her neck, the Tala was watching me. I stopped, looking around us. The forest was still quiet except for the footsteps of three Herja coming closer. And she stood there, like she knew what I was going to do. I wanted to leave her tied to that horse like she’d left me. Until she was the next body dragging over the forest floor. I wanted to punish her. But there was something knowing in her eyes. Calm. Like she’d been waiting for me.
Before I could think, I turned the knife over in my hand and threw it to her, handle first, and she caught it. Her gaze was still heavy on me as I pivoted on my heel and a few seconds later, I could hear her following behind, falling into step with me as I caught up to Fiske on the slope.
We got low again, watching the men catch sight of the horse. As their voices grew louder, I reached back toward the Tala and she placed the knife into my open hand. I sat up on my knees, taking a breath and squaring my shoulders before I lifted the knife up to my sight line. I aimed, taking my time, and then let my arm sink back, sending it forward with a snap.
It flew like wind, silent until it stuck into the back of the man on the right and he fell flat. The other man paused, looking up to us. And then he ran.
I slid down the decline, pulling the knife from the first man’s back, and looked up, tracking the second one.
Then everything stopped.
Everything went still. The sound of breathing roared inmy ears. The trees swirled around me. I squinted, trying to focus. Trying to will what I was seeing into something else. But there was no mistaking the hilt of an Aska sword. The red-tinged leather of an Aska scabbard. And that could only mean one thing. That the Herja had been to the fjord.
I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe. I ran.
I pulled the last bit of the energy within me up and out of myself, throwing my body forward into the trees. Toward the fleeing shadow. He turned back as he ran, watching me gain on him, just long enough to lose his footing and slam into a tree. He rolled when I came down on him and I pinned him with my knees, clutching his hair in my hands to make him face me.
“Where did you get that sword?” My panicked voice was a hoarse whisper.
He looked up at me, clenching his teeth.
“Where did you get it?” I slammed his head back into the ground and he groaned.
Fiske and the Tala reached us, coming to stand over me. There was no one in sight, but if he shouted, the Herja might hear him.
I couldn’t kill him. Not yet.
I reached across my body and let all my weight fall with the butt of the knife, knocking it into the side of the Herja’s head. He went still beneath me, his head rolling to one side.
“It’s… these are Aska leathers,” I sputtered, my throat tight.
“I know.” Fiske set Halvard down and the Tala slid onearm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “We’ll take him.”
