Dull pain drubs against the backs of my eyes as they adjust to my surroundings. The lights first. Sodium lamps blaze overhead, as blinding as the new day. Then the U-boats, lined up and ready for inspection—six altogether, the five Phillip warned Will about, plus the prototype Sofie described back at Katrine’s.
Then the people. I count ten men all clad in the green uniforms, which bear the seal of Holsten—though the German pronunciationHolsteinis scrawled beneath its red-and-white jags. Sofie stands before them, holding the mouthpiece of some sort of machine.
“Runa, darling, aren’t you bright-eyed andbushy-tailed?” she says with a smile.
I scowl at her. “Sofie. How could you?”
“What? Did you think I’d run forever for a crime I didn’t commit? Leave my family, title, and all the money that goes with it behind?” Her smile is brilliant, even in the sallow light. “Of course not.”
She laughs, and the men laugh, and dear Urda, it’s annoying. Though it does nothing for my headache, I roll my eyes.
Sofie continues. “And you’re going to give me back my life with the truth.”
Smile on her face, she saunters up to me, puts the mouthpiece to her lips, and presses a few buttons. “My name is Komtesse Sofie of Holsten, Queen Consort of the Sovereign Kingdom of Havnestad. In the early hours of the twentieth of September, 1914, I watched as a girl named Runa murdered King Niklas of Havnestad in my wedding bed. The next voice you’ll hear is that of this girl, whose family and home are unknown.”
With a tilt of her head, she comes closer, setting the mouthpiece right under my chin.
I grind my teeth together. I won’t do it. I won’t. I won’t be recorded on that thing.
Sofie leans in, her breath close enough that I can feel the heat of it on my scraped-up cheek.
“You will speak your truth, Runa. I’ll get it out of you one way or another, and hear me now, if you’re difficult,your confession will be the very last thing you do.”
I look her dead in those beautiful green eyes of hers. “Not going to happen.” Then I smile at her, fury in it.“Fœra.”
Bloodred beams blast from the closed fist behind my back and straight up into the light above. The glass shatters, and I kick Sofie square in the stomach as everyone scatters away from the raining shards.
Sofie’s training kicks in, and at the same time as I do, she yells,“Skjoldr!”
Glass fragments bounce off our shields, tinkling like music as they hit the floor. From where they’ve scattered, the men watch, bent in posture with their arms thrown over their heads.
One by one, the guards’ mouths fall agape as they stare at their commander’s only living daughter.
“The komtesse is a witch!” a guard yells, a mixture of fear and righteousness frothing at his lips.
Sofie stumbles to her feet. “What? No!” Her voice is high and pleading with them to unsee it. “No, I’m not.”
“You are! Just like that dead sister of yours!” shouts a particularly brave guard. “Hung herself for being a witch, she did. Everybody knows it.”
The surprise falls from Sofie’s face, anger in its place. And then she smiles at the man. “You’re right. I’m just like her.”
She catches my eye, and again we say our spells at the same time.“Villieldr!”
As we practiced, Sofie’s right arm goes up in violet flame, right before their eyes. It’s still weak, but it’s impressive, and the men’s confusion melts into strict, undeniable panic.
Their eyes swing away from her only because my whole body has burst into purple flame. The rope, the chair, everything searing off into a stream of smoking, instant ash.
Free from my bonds, I walk toward them.
Sofie is advancing too. The men take in the flaming, witchy pair of us and stumble back. We’re everything they’ve been told witches could be. Powerful, unpredictable, logic-defying.
“Burn us at the stake, will you?” I say. “What if we don’t burn?”
Still, the braver ones draw their pistols with fumbling, shaking hands. But we’re ready for this.
Sofie angles both arms out, protecting herself and the majority of my flaming form.“Skjoldr!”
Shield up and safe, I close in. Again, I use Oma Ragn’s favorite fighting technique. Smite.
