Page 29 of The Ashborn

“Whoa!” Kienna ran to them, pulling Calder backward. “Why can’t we build it bigger? What’s the big deal?”

“None of your business, girl. Do what you’re told.” Calder pushed past Kienna and stormed away from the beach.

Kienna groaned, turning to Fenlo. “What’s the problem?”

Fenlo threw his arms in the air. “Length’s fine. It’s the width we need. Ashfell’s already barking about how we won’t pay him enough to bring in extra hands.”

“Never had problems with Jeb. I don’t get why we’re dealin’ with Ashfell now. He’s barely standin’,” said Harn.

The woodcarver proved to be a bigger challenge every day. Kienna resisted the urge to think about employment elsewhere, even when she committed to sink with him if she had to. Fenlo seemed distressed by the encounter.

Kienna ran her hand over her face. “Okay, tell me the measurements, and I’ll make sure we have enough supplies. We’ll figure out how to build it.”

“Honest, Kienna?” Fenlo asked. “There’s only two o’ yas.”

Kienna didn’t know exactly how she’d figure out building a ship. Her thoughts swarmed with the many possibilities, even dipping into whether she’d be able to find enough magic beneath her charm to help. Maybe Moira would chip in. And Tislin. Though Kienna didn’t think Moira’s weather patterns would be handy in lifting planks and climbing high. But Tislin, his magic was odd enough to slip through a shadow and move things around.

Maybe he’d bring other Elvish soldiers. Or maybe not. Elowen indicated a while back that the Elvish didn’t come to Dove Port. They were separated, and rebellion hadn’t helped. Maybe Danek could master the wind and hoist the planks up that way. She’d need to give it more thought. Why the hell did the old man even agree to do something so ambitious if he didn’t have anyone to help him? Unless he forgot. Kienna’s stomach turned thinking about it.

“I don’t plan on under-delivering on my first project,” Kienna said, though her confidence didn’t match her tone. She pushed past it. “The sawmill will deliver the wood in a week, and then we’ll start the soaking process from there. We’ll have enough, or we’ll give you back your money.”

Fenlo didn’t seem convinced. He wiped his eyes, his terra-cotta skin catching the light.

Kienna held her hands out. “I’ll get him to come around. Can you trust me for a few days?”

“You’re the only one I’ve got faith in now. Don’t let us down, yeah?”

She nodded before running off the beach to catch up with the woodcarver. Ruva told her he’d already made it back to his shop. For an angry drunk, he sure was fast. She wove through the circular city, between alleys, and to the back of Dove Port, where the businesses grew smaller and the smell less pleasant.

Of course, the woodcarver was angry, even more furious when he found out what Kienna promised the shipyard men. When he threw more things at her, Kienna left him and went home for the day. There was no use talking him into anything, but she wouldn’t give up. She had a week to do it.

When she returned to her small apartment, the place was empty. Moira must have gone to her shift at The Elarent House, and Tislin, of course, was never there unless Moira was. She’d have to ask him about the magic later. In the meantime, Kienna would⁠—

Something caught her eye on the table she had been building. Sitting on the unfinished structure was a shirt, one she’d looked at when walking with Danek at the market.

She half expected Danek to be leaning in the doorway with that soft, crooked smile. The apartment was still. Kienna touched the shirt that had to be from him. He’d been the only one adamant about her having it.

Her thoughts didn’t stay with Danek for long. Connak’s words echoed in her head. You can kiss whomever you want, Kienna. That’s not going to push me away.

What did he mean by that? What did any of it mean? This wasn’t supposed to be about them. Kienna pulled her hand away from the fabric and focused on the unfinished table. She had better things to build.

Chapter 11

—Broan—

Kaelthar wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Broan had about enough by the time they cleared the Elvish mountains and arrived at the Goldmere. The diplomat wanted to share everything about Viking culture with him, where they came from, and who Broan’s family was. Apparently, Broan had a sister and a brother, too. Even the soldier from Trinity who accompanied them seemed to be at her wits' end with the constant stories Kaelthar bolstered.

Her name was Ithril. She moved with grace, but something feral lurked beneath it. A warrior in her own right. Her jaw stayed tight most of the time, her hand clutching her bow as she walked. Broan couldn’t blame her. What Elvish soldier wanted to be stuck guiding Vikings back to the freezing mountains? She wore her long, black hair in a tight knot, not a strand out of place. Her copper-toned skin caught the sun like burnished metal, and her round amber eyes never stopped scanning.

“We didn’t come from Alistile. Our blood’s Skalavian. Fun Viking fact,” Kaelthar said proudly, staring at the waters. “You know those seas are plagued by raiders. Brutish bastards in their pillaging. Eyes painted black. Best pray you’re not caught by one.”

“This will help us form an alliance…how?” Broan crossed his arms, staring dully at Kaelthar.

Kaelthar laughed and said, “You’d best remember your blood, Broan. The jarl has no use for kin who know nothing of their own.”

He motioned for Broan to create a bridge across the river. Broan wondered why a bridge had never been built before. If they were to become allies, they’d need to consider something permanent. He was getting rather tired of pulling up the land to cross rivers. In fact, Broan often wondered if the river divided them for a reason. Even with Kaelthar’s help, the Vikings did not rally for the Elvish, and he certainly never heard them talk about Viking affairs in Trinity. So, why did they not like each other?

Broan huffed as he placed his hands in the dirt. The earth trembled beneath them. Kaelthar stepped back, eyes wide as the river exploded, and the earth shot up to connect the base of the Elvish Mountains with the land leading to the Whiteridge Mountains. Instinctively, Broan crafted a few openings for water to continue its stream. Ithril scanned the area for threats as they waited.