Page 18 of Soul of Fire

It had been Einar’s, but was now bare of anything that belonged to him. Only the old wooden desk, a few chairs, and the shelves of records remained.

“Why, exactly, are you exempt from these rules, Rev?” Ingmar sat in Einar’s old chair, their booted feet on the desk and their arms folded over their chest.

They weren’t alone. Serrilda, Viggo, and Geir had taken up positions around the room, and all of them looked pissed.

I sighed. It had taken a solid half hour to reassure the other reirleders that there was no imminent danger, and I supposed it was too much to hope that I could avoid my former reirhold forever. “What exactly are you all doing here?”

“I second the question.” Viggo had settled himself on the edge of the desk. His blond braid was stained with something black and sticky that I suspected to be garmr blood. His mate, Geir, stood next to him, eyeing Ingmar’s dirty boots with distaste. “Just because I have my own reirhold now doesn’t mean we won’t drop everything to help you.”

“Revna likes to play the martyr.” Serrilda’s dark braids, which fell softly over her shoulders, gave the incorrect impression that she was a warm person. As usual, her eyes were hard as granite when they met mine across the room. Of all of our reirhold, Serrilda knew me best next to Arik, and she also rarely let me get away with any bullshit. “I see no other explanation.”

I threw up my hands as I sank onto an overturned crate that had once held documents. They were now spread haphazardly over the floor in my vain attempt to create some semblance of order in the chaos that was now my life. “Can I at least sit down as you all berate me?”

Kindra rumbled an amused laugh across our mental bridge.

“We’reworriedabout you, Rev.“ Ingmar’s gaze was serious as they sat up properly and leaned toward me, their elbows on their knees. “You’ll run yourself ragged trying to do everything alone.”

“Like always,” Serrilda added.

“I can’t believe that Arik intended you to manage all of Ironholm by yourself,” Geir agreed, running his hand over his bearded chin as he did whenever he was mulling over a problem. “And there’s no reason we can’t join you for patrols if you insist on going out there.”

“Or paperwork.” Viggo eyed the disaster on the floor with thinly veiled contempt. “Even if itisthe worst.”

I laughed, trying to flatten the emotion that had risen behind my eyes at the kind words and tender concern of my friends. My family. “Fine, you win. I need help.”

“We’re yours to command,” Viggo announced, tactfully ignoring the emotion in my voice. “Just tell us what you need.”

I cleared my throat for good measure and was relieved when it sounded completely normal. “I need a reirhold to patrol the Scar. Discreetly.”

Viggo raised a blond brow. “The Scar?”

I nodded. “Arik wants it measured daily, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to get out and do it. Asger is only slightly larger than Kindra, so it makes sense for you to do it.”

Serrilda tilted her head and studied me, her sharp eyes clearly missing nothing in their usual perceptive way. “What are you looking for?”

I hesitated, biting my lip as I debated what to tell them.

The truth,Kindra insisted.They are our reirhold. We can trust them.

Geir anticipated me. “The Scar is growing, somehow?”

I nodded, strangely relieved to no longer be burdened by the secret which Arik had entrusted to me. “When Idunn and Eisa closed it, it was about thirty-five dragon-lengths, as measured by Kindra. This morning it measured forty-two.”

Ingmar whistled. “Not insignificant. Any idea why?”

I shook my head. “Arik and Eisa are hoping to find answers in the Book, but it wouldn’t hurt to go through our archives and see if they mention anything.”

“I can do that.” Ingmar offered, rising from the chair with an ominous creak. “What exactly am I looking for?”

“Mentions of darkness? Of the Rift turning black?” I shook my head, giving them an apologetic grimace. “It’s not a lot to go on, but I’m not sure where else to start.”

“And I’ll help you with this mess,” Serrilda declared with unwavering finality. “Hearthmother knows you are not tidy enough to manage an office alone.”

Her eyes met mine, and I knew we were both remembering the deplorable state of our shared bunk before we’d become drage.Had our dragons not been disinclined to continue our fleeting romance, my inability to make the bed would have ended our relationship eventually.

She smiled faintly, and I returned the expression. “Thank you. Truly.”

“And you should eat,” Ingmar added, clasping my shoulder. “And sleep. You look exhausted.”