And now, as I look out over these waters, I’m not afraid. I did my best to honor my sister. To honor myself. To restore the balance. If Father comes with an army of mypeople, I will not fear him. I will not. There is so much to fear in this life that you cannot live at all if you let it rule you.
As dawn comes, blue fingers in the black of night across the strait, I hear it. My name, shouted above the howling mess Father has made.
“Runa!”
I turn from the sea. Will and Sofie are wading through the muck side by side, about to reach a depth where they will need to swim. Above the water, I see his exposed shoulder, pitted and bruised but working as it should as he propels himself forward and helps his cousin along.
Up the hill, the city is under threat. The ships I spelled are holding fast for now—battering ram after battering ram still where I left them—but the tide has crawled up the sea lane, spilling onto the first of the town’s shops. I’m sure the Vœrtshus Havnestad and the ashes of the U-boat warehouse are underwater now too. I just hope the townspeople made it to higher ground.
Beyond, the waters are lapping at the gates of Øldenburg Castle. An inch more and they’ll dump into the rose garden before crawling up the steps. I’m more concerned about people’s homes. Even the little abandoned house in the castle’s shadow—it meant too much to someone once to be swept away.
“Did it work? Is she coming? Will she fight with us?” Sofie asks, reaching the rock wall. She’s already trying togain purchase to pull herself up to me, her hands slipping.
“I don’t know.” And I don’t. I wait for that spark of certainty. The way I felt watching the sun rise on my last day and my first.
But there’s nothing. Not yet.
I place my hands over the edge and dry the face of the rock wall, helping them up. Sofie first, then Will. I squeeze her into an embrace. And then she gives way to Will. Once my arms wrap around him, I don’t want to let go—as warm and grounding as he is, a sliver of sun in the cold, pounding rain.
“What can we do?” Will asks in my ear. Then a spark comes to him, and he brings me to arm’s length. “Is there something we can do together?”
I think then of Oma Ragn, singing in the dark. Of Alia and her beautiful voice, gone now and forever, singing “The Mermaid’s Vengeance.” Speaking of the power of mermaids and what we can do.
We cannot forget what humans think of us. Or what we can do to them.
Of my answer, after Alia’s death, with new perspective.
Or what we can do to ourselves, Oma.
But there’s a third piece that I didn’t find until I met these people.
We cannot forget what we can doforourselves. We cannot forget our strengths. The bonds we’ve made. The things we’ve done.
I grab Will’s hand and hold mine out to Sofie. “Will you join hands with me?”
Sofie doesn’t hesitate. She’s about to join with Will on the other side when we hear a little cry. “Can I join too? Please?”
Agnata.
Sofie squeezes her eyes shut. “Of course.” Then, she reaches down and helps Agnata up to the top. When she’s there and ready, panting, we join hands again. The four of us, in a little circle, on the slim plateau of rock.
We don’t need special inks or amethysts. What we need is each other. To stand up against this storm and the next, in this war and the next.
“Repeat after me and then let’s chant in a round,” I say. They nod. Sofie and Agnata shut their eyes, but Will meets my gaze and I hold it.
“Logn œgir. Long haf. Logn harr. Logn sœr. Logn spór. Logn ver. Logn ví∂ir.”
We ask for calm. We demand calm.
“Logn œgir. Long haf. Logn harr. Logn sœr. Logn spór. Logn ver. Logn ví∂ir.”
“Logn œgir. Long haf. Logn harr. Logn sœr. Logn spór. Logn ver. Logn ví∂ir.”
We repeat it over and over, the sky and the sea crying around us.
As we hit the fifth repetition, another voice joins ours, carrying another tune.
It’s a voice I know as well as my own. Will can hear it too, his brows pulling together, unsure of where it is coming from. Sofie’s eyes spring open. Agnata’s too.
