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This was what she was born to do.

Other people were smacking out the flames with blankets and dousing them with saltwater. Revni’s place was with the warriors splashing beside her—her mother, then Aesa, moving up the small rise so fast Revni only caught a flash of gray-streaked braid. Move, Revni, the voice in her brain urged, but she already was, thighs burning, pounding up the beach in rhythm with all the others, catching up to her father and Niall. And then the clans were all running together, a silent pack of wolves. Revni plunged into the black of the forest.

Their attackers were on the run. The firelight narrowed everything to silhouettes. Bodies darted, but they were thin lines between thick trunks, the short spears whizzing past another slash to duck. Revni’s own movements arced, her shield swinging aside an attack, her ax rising and coming down, the twang in her shoulder at the effort, the impact of connection reverberating up her bone. The body in front of her gave an ugly groan, but a hard yank upwards lifted the weapon out, and Revni ran.

The forest swallowed some pained cries and bounced others back. Revni spun, searching for another target, but Ulf’s call went out and she pulled her instincts, trying to still her wild heart. She knew better than to take the bait.

Niall gulped air behind her.

“Locals.” He sniffed, as if this kind of thing happened all the time. “Just trying to scare us off.”

Revni resisted rolling her eyes.

Little Torst came shrieking up behind, an oyster knife or something similar clutched in his tight fist, but Niall straight-armed him.

“Why aren’t we following?” Torst growled against Niall’s strong hold.

“It’s a goading.” Revni forced her breath even. Torst would learn. “They want us to give chase.”

Niall pushed Torst towards the ocean. “Never leave your ships unless you mean to.”

Revni’s father’s hand came down heavy on her shoulder before she could say more.

“Give yourself a notch, Tuyra.” He eyed the blood staining her ax. “We didn’t take many, but you got one.”

Niall turned back to blink surprise, and Revni flushed with pride. She had killed her first man at the age of twelve, but it wasn’t something she’d done. The gods had decreed that those men should die and she should live, and only the gods knew when it would be their time.

But to be the gods’ instrument…It felt like being blessed. A different wash of relief flowed through her. This was not the battle she’d envisioned, but it was still something. The gods had not forgotten her. They spoke in the language of life and death, and here, in this new land, they’d chosen her to take first part in it.

Revni of the Quick Work.

That was a terrible name. She’d have to think on it.

Returning to the ships revealed most of the damage had been to the sails, with the Flyer taking the worst of it. Revni was surprised at the touch of bitterness she felt at the angry, black-toothed hole. The Flyer had been a good ship after all. Its sail had kept them warm at night when they’d docked on Barking Island, doing little to keep out the incessant mating calls of the seals but much to keep out the biting wind.

All three ships were still sea-worthy, the stores undamaged. Another blessing. They would need the food when they turned upriver. There’d be no safety of the ocean at their backs, no hunting or leisurely exploring. Only enemies on either side.

But this reveal only gave more voice to the ones who wanted to abandon the planned raid. The air smelled of smoke, the sea breeze pulling voices into shouts. The locals knew they were here now. It was foolhardy to stay. Unnecessary.

Too dangerous.

Revni suppressed a sigh. They should have used a different argument. Puff-faced warriors got even puffier, accusing the Aylssons from the Fang of cowardice.

“What kind of Isfolj runs from fate?”

Revni shifted the ax to rest across her shoulders. She didn’t disagree, but she didn’t like the man that said it. His tongue was far too pink. He wore his braids in three long stripes, joining one of them to his beard. It made him look like he was chained to something.

“The gods gave us brains and ships as well as shields,” the first man countered.

People began to faction behind their friends. They would be against the tide if they left now, and when would there be another chance like this? A bad omen, the others argued back, to have the gods block their path by sea.

Revni turned to look for her parents with a worm of worry. She could feel the truth in both sides of it, but more disagreements, before they’d even spent a full night on shore, seemed a bad beginning.

“What do you think he is?”

Revni turned.

Ragn toed the dead boy on the beach, his expression almost thoughtful. Sten Halfbeard, who had carried the corpse out of the forest, merely shrugged.