Page 244 of The Sun He Buried

Tedious man.

“She didn’t choose you.”

Pain cuts through him.

He takes it without looking away.

“She’s in danger.”

“I will bring her back.”

“I know.”

That stops me.

Baldr looks past my shoulder toward the road. “Whoever took her chose someone who couldn’t fight them. I’m coming for her.”

“She is not yours to ride for.”

Baldr doesn’t move. “She isn’t yours either, Eirik.”

Not mine.

Then she hits the bond, and everything else goes.

Sharp. A fresh cut of it—fear, and something worse riding under the fear. All of it reaching for me.

Me.

The mask goes hot across my face. My hand’s fisted in the mare’s mane.

“They have my mate.”

Baldr goes very still.

“They have my mate, Baldr.”

Salt and Iron floods my tongue—his. He knows now.

The purple light’s all over his face. He holds still under it. Then he gathers the reins.

“Then we bring her back.”

We.

Ketill removes his foot from the stirrup.

Traitor.

I turn the mare toward the gate.

“Keep up.”

Baldr rides beside me.

Snowpetal runs ahead.

The lower road is hard beneath the fresh powder. The watch cleared a narrow path between banks taller than the Sanguir, though Snowpetal ignores it and takes the tops. Blood spots the white surface behind her.