Page 57 of The Girl the Sea Gave Back
“I want you to have it.”
Halvard hugged it to his chest, the weight of the iron heavy in his arms, and Fiske got to his knees before him, meeting his eyes. They were still glazed with the loss of sleepand the tears he’d shed. “It falls to me now to raise you,” he said.
Halvard looked at his boots, buried in the snow between them.
“Will you trust me?” He held out an open hand.
Halvard breathed through the pain in his throat as he set his small hand into Fiske’s. His brother stood, towering over him before he picked him up, and Halvard wrapped his arms around his neck, his muffled cry buried in his shoulder. And as the snow fell and the sun went down, Fiske carried him home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HALVARD
I walked the path through Hylli alone, stopping before the closed door to our home in the dark, my hand on the cold latch as I listened.
I’d spent the last hours after the ceremony with Latham and the others, crowded around the fire as we talked through the battle that lay ahead. I’d tried to meet their eyes as the leaders looked to me, asking me questions about what I’d seen in the glade and in the valley. How many Svell there were and how fast they were traveling. How they’d attacked Ljós and Utan. I’d answered them, trying to sound sure.
But now, my family waited inside, their voices low around the fire. And there was no way to be strong for that moment. There was no way to tell them how sorry I was and I wondered if I would look different to them when I came through the door. If they’d see the shame of it all on me, the way they always saw everything.
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard before I pushed it open.
Fiske and Iri looked up from where they stood before the fire pit as I stepped inside, the rusted iron hinges creaking. Eelyn stood behind them, her pale eyes red and swollen. She pushed between them, walking straight to me with heavy steps until she was pressed against my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her as a soft, brittle cry escaped her lips. Fiske took the back of my neck, pressing his rough cheek to mine, and Iri did the same, putting his arms around the three of us. The familiar smell of them filled me, making my chest tight and my legs weak until they were the only thing keeping me standing.
“I’m sorry.” I spoke into Eelyn’s hair through a strangled whisper as she cried.
Iri squeezed tighter before he let us go and when I looked up, a tear streaked the side of his face, running into his blond beard.
“Halvard.” My mother’s voice sounded beside me and I looked up to see her face.
She’d been crying, but her eyes were set on me with her usual strength. Maybe because she was a healer. Or maybe because she’d lost my father so long ago. But she always seemed better able to face loss than the rest of us, her faith in the gods stronger than everyone else’s combined. The silver streaked through her hair in thick, pleated strands and she smiled as she reached for me, tucking me into her with her hand stroking my hair. I kissed her cheek, trying to meether eyes reassuringly. But I was barely holding myself together and she knew it.
“How did it happen?” Iri asked the question and everyone went quiet, waiting for my answer.
Aghi wasn’t only the last of any blood family Iri and Eelyn had. He was the anchor of the one we’d all built together after the Herja came. And now, he was gone. I didn’t know what that meant. What that made us.
Eelyn wiped at her face with the back of her hand before she sat down. “Were you with him?”
I nodded, trying to swallow back the tears that were brimming. I’d imagined their faces a hundred times as I told them what happened in the glade. But the pain of it was so much harsher here, outside of the walls of my mind. “He was killed in a glade outside of Ljós. Brought down by a knife in his chest.” I breathed. “I was with him. I was with him until…” But I couldn’t finish, the memory of his blue, glistening eyes on the sky so clear that it snatched the breath from my lungs.
Eelyn nodded, her hand winding tightly into her braid.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, crouching down before her. “I convinced them to go. Latham and Mýra were against it, but I convinced Aghi and Espen. I was—”
“Stop, Halvard.” Fiske cut me off, his voice firm. “He died honorably. That’s all that matters.”
Eelyn leaned forward, setting her hand on top of mine, and Iri nodded before he took a bottle of ale from the shelf on the wall and set cups onto the table. He filled them as Isat down beside Eelyn, my arm pressed to hers. My brothers took their own seats across from us and the door creaked again as Mýra stuck her head inside, a hesitant smile on her lips. She closed the door behind her and found a seat on the other side of Eelyn, sliding her arm around her waist and pouring herself a cup of ale. “Runa?”
“She stayed in Fela,” Iri answered.
I was glad. Both Fiske’s and Iri’s children would be safe with her up on the mountain with plenty of time to leave if the Svell came. But it didn’t feel like home without my nieces Náli and Isla here. And it didn’t feel like our family without Aghi sitting beside us, his bad leg stretched out to the side of his stool and one elbow set on the table.
My eyes drifted to his empty seat, where I could still see him hunched over a steaming bowl of whatever my mother had made for supper. We ate like that almost every night, all of us together with the girls perched like little owls beside me.
“Tomorrow?” Fiske looked to me.
“Tomorrow. They’re already camped in the valley.”
“How many?” The air changed, the softness leaving their faces as it was replaced by the fight that lay deep inside them.
