Page 45 of The Ashborn

Ithril froze as if swirling ice outside reached her bones and set in. She didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. Broan saw that wild-eyed stare plenty of times. Soldiers in River Storm elicited that same fear and shame from the girls in the orphanage. It made him angrier in his youth. It was that and the injustice of never understanding why he was so different from everyone else in the city. They laughed at him relentlessly, although he could rip them apart if he wanted to. That period brought him shame now, but he was grateful to Danek for grounding him.

“Talk to me about the River Storm soldier,” Ithril said, staring deeply into the fire.

Broan’s shoulders lifted. “The boy is bait, nothing else. I’m more concerned that the king knew to place soldiers in that small village and not somewhere of more importance.”

“Bait, how?” Ithril asked.

After Broan pulled Jacob aside to chat, all Jacob could get out was that Kienna should never know, which only told Broan that King Vaerin wanted her to know. She’d go to him immediately if she did. “The king is aiming for Kienna. Aside from the fact that he’s her uncle, he seems fucking fixated on whatever she has to offer.”

Broan tried to understand it himself. The familial connection cleared up a lot of his bitter feelings toward her when she got higher praise than everyone else. Aside from that, she didn’t have anything special to offer the king. Unless it had to do with the cursed bond he had placed on her magic. Was Kienna stronger than they’d realized? She did some freaky shit now and then and saw weird visions that never came true, but she’d almost matched his strength at the barrier in River Storm. Probably would have pummeled him into the very stone he controlled had she not passed out from it.

“Do you find it weird that the girl shares blood with the Dark King?” Ithril asked after the crackling fire filled enough of the void.

Broan grunted. “About as weird as I find her sharing blood with your Ice Queen.”

“Her connection to the soldier complicates things.”

“I’d say so. That’s not our problem.” Broan stoked the fire again. “How’d you become a soldier, Tightstrings?”

Ithril let out a bitter huff. “It was that or be pushed further south.”

“What’s further south?”

“Exile.” Ithril chewed against her cheek. “Past the mountains where our people push the creatures they find have no use to the realm.”

Broan hadn’t seen anything further south than the hidden forest. He hadn’t even realized there were mountains surrounding them in that direction either. He needed to find a map. His lack of education in River Storm made Broan feel incredibly stupid. He hated feeling stupid, and now he wanted to smash into something or rip the rocks up.

Instead, he squeezed his fingers into his palms and exhaled harshly, the cold wind blowing a cloud of frozen smoke into the air. “What does Alistile encompass?”

“We are surrounded by mountains. Whiteridge to the west, where we are now. The Elvish mountains to the south. The Northern Mountains in River Storm⁠—”

“And to the east?”

“The Malintilian Mountains. Our realm ends at the mountains. Beyond that is not our concern—unless you’re the Vikings.”

Broan ground his teeth together. “Why?”

“They like the sea. They will never be powerful in Alistile, so they venture back to Skalavian lands for power. Mainly to pillage the poor.”

He tried not to express disappointment in this practice. Broan hoped the Vikings were fierce warriors, fighting against tyrants like King Vaerin. These were facts Kaelthar failed to mention in his stories. He spoke so fondly of Viking history. Not once did he mention that their people raided villages that barely had anything to give. He didn’t bother pretending he knew anything about Skalavia, but he figured he’d feel the same, regardless.

“You know Alistile well?” Broan asked.

“Well enough.”

“I’d like to learn.”

Ithril squinted, her brows moving down like a caterpillar. “Learn what?”

“The geography. The political structures. I want to know how every single town operates, so when I’m called to war again, I understand what I’m getting into.”

“The flint,” Ithril said, pointing to the gray rock near the fire. “I’ll start by drawing you a map.”

Chapter 18

—Kienna—

He’s not there anymore. Kienna sat outside their apartment with Ruva, her face buried in the wolf’s side. Moira sat next to her, clearly uncomfortable with the constant shifting, but Kienna didn’t press her to leave. I don’t feel any connection at all. Why would he leave?