There would be outrage, at least among the Fjorders. Their scientists had spent centuries creating and perfecting the Machine that ran the Test. There was only one in the entire world. One Machine, and three doctors who fully understood it. It was the pride of Fjordlandi, their guarantee that though the Blessing didn’t seem to follow the same rules here that it did in other realms, they would still always have their magic, their Awakened.
Perla’s continual presence, though, did make Kyrja wonder at the why. Why, in Daryatla and the Sunken Kingdom and even in Soltierra, could two Awakened produce a child with strong magic, while it didn’t seem to work that way here? It had been tried countless times before the Test, and even in opposition to it, when nobles were convinced they knew better than whatever elusive science the Test employed.
But where King Seidon, descended from a whole line of Awakened, was arguably the strongest magical person in the world, those born of two Blessed in Fjordlandi could scarcely make a snowflake.
“The Giver’s ways are his alone,”Nik had said when they’d been musing about it over dinner the other night.“I suppose he knew that Fjordlandi needed something different.”
Her whole soul twisted. Maybe it did. But thatdifferentwould mean that she couldn’t follow her heart. Because while itcouldbe Nik that the Test pointed to, centuries of history said it wouldn’t be.
Two Awakened were never matched. Never.
Ice glazed over all her budding hopes every time she thought of it. She should protect herself from it, pull away, take care to view him only as a friend.
But heat radiated off him like a comforting hearth. She didn’t mean to lean closer, but before they’d turned the first corner, her arm had found its usual place, woven around his.
The way he sighed and relaxed at her touch made her wonder if it was a comfort to him, too.
“Did you visit with Leif again this morning?”
He nodded, that smile she was quickly coming to rely on gracing his lips. “And I didn’t so much as scorch a pew this time. We decided to start a daily prayer time each morning. You’re welcome to join us.”
The idea brought a flood of peace. She probably shouldn’t take the time away from her duties. But maybe she should. Maybe that was exactly what she needed to do. Give time first to the Giver and then trust that he’d help her through the rest of the day. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to join you. And how went the training with Daemon?” she asked as the first scents of dinner found her nose and brought her stomach to life.
“Good, I guess. Daemon says I’m a natural. Which he also says makes no sense because Elianne is apparently the worst of the bunch.” He lifted a hand and rubbed at his neck. “Pretty sure that was intentional on her part.”
The glance he darted her way was the awkward one they exchanged whenever either was reminded of the designs her father had apparently had on his mother. Daemon had filled Kyrja in that first day while Nik was rushed into the lava bath, and apparently Elianne had confessed it to him before his next trip to the surface.
She still hadn’t wrestled that one into a place in her mind where she could lock it away with a click of the ice. As angry as Fodur had been after the attack, she’d thought…well, she’dthought that somewhere inside, he had genuine love for his family—not Kyrja, of course, but the rest of them. For Mamma, who’d stood by his side through fifty years of union. For Einar, who had been the perfect Heir, never once disappointing him. For Krystiana, who had been more like him in personality than any of them.
But he’d already had his next wife waiting. Biding his time for Mamma to die. That made Kyrja sick to her stomach, but even so, it made sense. In a way.
Except that she couldn’t square his disregard for her siblings. They were everything the Blessed were supposed to be, by his definition. He’d seemed to take what little joy he allowed himself in life from them and their accomplishments. He’d encouraged them to strengthen their magic and push past their limits.
What had he meant to do with them, if Tristan’s attack hadn’t been so successful? Assume he’d outlive them, if he kept his own magic strong? Challenge them so he could remove them? And then what? Imprison them, kill them?
Questions she couldn’t help ask but refused to pursue answers to. That would require speaking with her father. Something she was determined to avoid.
“Any luck tracking down Raf?” A safer question, for sure, if just as elusive. His friend had obeyed her a little too well, it seemed. He must be in hiding somewhere obscure, otherwise he’d surely have heard about recent events and come searching for Nik.
Unless…unless. Every day she found new evidence of thanes who just vanished from the streets or villages, no explanations ever given to their families. Sometimes, there were matching entries of Fjorders lobbing trumped-up accusations of vandalism or theft or disrespect. Of patients “beyond the help of the village healers” who matched the descriptions of supposed volunteers for Fjorder medical research.
Dania had paled when Kyrja had shown her those. It wasn’t impossible, she’d said. But working in a free clinic, she didn’t move in the circles of the researchers who would have been responsible. Though she’d put out some feelers with mutual friends to confirm or deny.
Nik perked up. “I think so, actually. I had an answer to my note to my mentor indicating someone was clearly inhabiting the old kyrka I mentioned. He’d tried to get him to reveal himself, but Raf would be thinking he’s putting Brother Gylfi in danger so wouldn’t want him to know he was there. I volunteered to join the journey to Mt. Radsla, so I can check,” he said of the volcano closest to Harroby.
“Oh good.” And it was. Except for the part of him traveling so far, which meant his warm presence would be gone for at least a week, possibly two. A good idea, really—maybe a bit of space between them would help her tamp down the rising feelings for him. And yet it brought nothing but dread to her stomach. “Your family is still eager to go, then?”
Nik smiled. “Like children at Yule. They’ve been doing what they can from here for years, of course, but familiarizing ourselves with the actual mountain will make it much easier.”
She could understand that. Keeping Reykstoll harbor frozen but for the shipping lanes was much easier than working with the unfamiliar waters on the far side of Fjordlandi. She barely had to even think about the nearest waters to…
“Kyrja?”
She’d drifted to a halt, tugging him with her. But rather than shake off the distraction and smile in apology, she closed her eyes. Sent out her senses into the shipping channels, the currents, prodded at the hulls disturbing her waters.
Big. Big, big, big. Her eyes flew open, and she spun to Viggo. “What ship would be entering our harbor that’s at least three times the size of the Daryatlean cargo vessels?”
Her guard’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know, Your Majesty. The only ships I’ve ever heard of that are that big are the Ellesian triremes. But I can’t think why one of them would be—”
