Page 21 of Storm of Raging Seas
Saying goodbye only to the jarl and a few others before mounting their horses, they made a swift exit. They raced through the realm, making it difficult to enjoy the beautiful surroundings as they went.
Westley wanted to speak with her—needed to—but he also needed to get farther away from the other Vanir to do so. They would be crossing into Idavoll before continuing to Asgard and he either had to lie to her or set a trap and lure her to the palace.
He didn’t like either option. In a perfect world, he would ask her to go with him and she would say yes. But they didn’t live in a perfect world. He doubted she would go willingly if he came clean.
At this pace, he didn’t have much time to sort it out—they would make it to Idavoll by next morning.
Save for the sounds of the horses’ heavy breathing and hooves stamping the ground, they rode in silence for hours before coming upon the ruins of what appeared to be an old Southern Wilds campsite. They had travelled through the mountainscape that bordered Vanaheim and Idavoll, emerging on the other side—a perfect hiding place nestled among the monstrous rocks.
Solveig dismounted without a word and led Helle down an overgrown path. The males followed without question.
Westley’s eyes widened as the lush green foliage opened up to a stunning waterfall.
Tall reddish-brown cliffs surrounded the waterfall, which fed into a pool of crystal-clear water. Pale flowers filled the cracks of the warm rocks, intricately woven and growing in the unlikeliest of places. He’d never seen anything like it.
Solveig brought her horse to the water, scooping a handful into her mouth. Noren and Conalle followed suit, but Westley couldn’t take his eyes off the magnificence of this place.
Memories of war flashed through his mind as he took in the surroundings. His life had been full of council rooms, warships, barracks, and bloody battlefields. He had rarely taken time to explore the realms. He’d never had the inclination nor the time.
But as the water cascaded in heavy waves down the rocks, a piece of his soul stirred—his magic woke.
He’d been raised to think peace was unattainable, that the world was a dark and gruelling place and it was his job to right the wrongs. His experiences gave him no opportunity to refute what he’d been taught.
Westley dragged a breath of clean air into his lungs, struggling to swallow around the growing thickness in his throat.
“How far are we from Idavoll?” he asked in a hushed tone, overcome with the need to be reverent in a place so clearly blessed by the gods.
“About two more hours to the border,” Solveig answered without looking. She was digging in a pack. “Conalle, where did you put the food?”
“Oh, I had to rearrange a few things, so I stuck it all in Westley’s bag.”
That’s why his pack had felt heavier than when he’d tested it out the previous night. Solveig snorted.
Westley rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”
He was so mesmerised by the scenery that he didn’t notice her pulling the food from his bag until the air went completely still. Like the world was holding Her breath at the sudden tension radiating off Solveig.
Even the sun faltered.
“What is this?” Solveig said, enunciating every syllable, her tone low and menacing as she stood.
Westley whipped his head around, first taking in the stillness of her body, then the mask completely devoid of emotion on her face. She held a folded piece of parchment in her hands.
The letter he’d found yesterday tucked in a deep pocket of his vest as he’d undressed. A letter from his mother with instructions from his grandfather.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. His heart raced as his mind scrambled to come up with anything to defuse the situation.
“Solveig, I can explain.”
“Then explain,” she growled.
“What is it?” Conalle asked.
Solveig began to read out loud, and the blood drained from Westley’s face as her cheeks flushed with anger, her mask cracking.
“‘Dearest Westley,
We must leave you in this gods-awful camp for a little while longer. We cannot stay to clean up after the barbarians. Your grandfather has another mission for you. Bring Solveig to us in Idavoll. Discreetly.
