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My mother smiled at the old Dark Watch saying. “And I will meet you off it, be it looking down from Salur or at your side with a horn in hand.”

The queen took hold of my palm and squeezed.

And I did the same.

49

Lyra

Auki took his sister’s hand. “Use Òlmr. Don’t get distracted by Darkwin, Brynn. We don’t know how he will fare. Choose you, please. Choose you if it goes wrong.”

“Hush, Auki,” Brynn said, a slight tremble in her voice.

“Thank the gods,” said Kael. “It is rather disconcerting to hear how you demand my death before going into battle.”

“Would you not say the same if the prince was melded with corrupt bones and might turn on Lyra, Darkwin?”

“I suppose.” Kael faced Auki, sturdier since two of his bones had been removed and, no doubt, the bond he did not see was strengthening. He held out an arm for Auki to take. “I swear to you, I will ram a blade through my own skull if I feel the berserksgangur taking hold.”

Auki pinned him with a look but took hold of Kael’s bulky arm. “Do that, Darkwin. But more, try to survive.”

My stomach turned over. I hated this line of talk, hated the thought of losing a single face in our numbers, but I could not turn away.

Brynn frowned at her brother. “Enough. We focus. We fight. We all return.”

I closed my eyes. Emi finished securing my hair off my neck. She’d been somber most of the morning. No doubt thoughts of her father plagued her mind. She tapped my shoulder, and I spun around. Without a word, Emi set about painting my face in runes and long lines of kohl.

Next to her, Thane helped Yrsa secure a leather gambeson over her body. “You remember how we’ve sparred?”

The princess shoved his shoulder. “I am better with knives than you.”

“Only because I am ridiculously skilled with the bow.”

“The shore of the fjords is taken.” A low voice stirred me from my moment of pause. Gunter, his father, and a handful of Dark Watch warriors stepped next to me. A strain burrowed in Gunter’s brow. “Fadey burnt their damn longships. He plans to win or die today.”

“You’re sure?” I straightened.

“It is a message,” Yanson said. “Dravenmoor will be his.”

“We saw Virki.” Gunter’s bright eyes shadowed when he looked to Emi. “Took four wolves with him and displays the white wolf on his chest.”

The warriors behind us pounded fists against the double-headed ravens over their gambesons, like the truth of Virki’s betrayal ached through the threads.

“Make way for the queen!”

The Dark Watch parted like an even darker sea. Elisabet strode through, her hair tied in dark leather, her eyes darkened in powders, and lines of white paint carved through her lips. At her side, Roark followed. Kyrre bounded across the space, nudging my hip until I scratched his thick head.

The wolf sat at my side, tongue flapping.

Across from me, Roark was a prince of beautiful nightmares. The dark strands of his hair were braided off his face, and the runes of protection and strength I’d painted down his forehead were slightly smeared from the heat of the sun.

A slight tug teased the center of my chest. A signal he could still feel the pull of our bond through the rage stirring from his trapped soul.

No lines, I mouthed.

Roark smirked, then turned to where his mother stepped forward.

“For seasons this battle for ancient powers has been fought in small acts of violence, with corruption, but now we end it. Today we fight for not only Dravenmoor, we fight for all lands, all craft. We fight for our lives. There is no fate where we fall today, I refuse to believe it. We owe our blades, our strength, our very lives to those who’ve gone before us, fighting for a land, for the people they loved. We honor them by living today!”