Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(3)
Which would mean certain death, as he could control it from afar. And still, I could not say no to this.
“Swear it,” I said, my heart pounding. Emperor Isveig was a lot of things, but an oath-breaker was not one of them. “If I do this, you won’t kill them, and you’ll let me go free.”
“I swear it.” He folded his arms. “So do we have a deal?”
Freedom. My heart clenched. “We do.”
O nly a few hours later, I stood on a ship with my mother’s dagger strapped to my side, watching the city of Fafnir vanish on the distant horizon. The ancient city was nestled in the lush hills along the coast, the stone-baked roofs reflecting the summer sun. Centuries ago, it had been built by orcish tools and orcish hands. You could see the remnants of our people in the architecture: towers that cut toward the sky in the shape of tusks, stone skulls decorating each corner of the battlements, and a portcullis made of bones. But now, only humans and giants roamed the winding streets.
It turned out Emperor Isveig had about as little patience as he had battle experience—he had done little of the fighting himself during his conquest. We’d set off as soon as I’d dressed in my gear—thick leathers with Isveig’s wolf sigil stamped on my shoulder—and packed a satchel of clothes and dried meat.
“I bet you’re glad to be out of your tower.” Isveig’s only living sister, Thuri, swaggered across the deck, the harsh wind tugging at her long, blue braid. She stepped beside me and closed her eyes, coming alive beneath the saltwater spray.
I smiled despite the unease threading through me. Yes, my blood sang in response to the elements of the Galdur—magic—that wound through the very essence of the outside world. And yes, my heart pounded with that desperate hope for freedom. But a haze of gray wrapped around me, drowning that hope in darkness. We sailed for the Isles of Fable, which no one had ever been able to find. We were just as likely to get swept into the Elding, the near-constant storm that churned through the rough waters of the Boundless Sea. It was one of the many reasons the Isles of Fable had never been found. It was too dangerous.
As if the ancient Old God of Thunder heard my thoughts, lightning spiked through the distant, dark skies.
Thuri frowned. “We’ll have to sail south if we want to avoid the Elding.”
“The long way around, then,” I said in a chirpy voice. “Just warn me if we’re going to get rain, so I can get below deck in time.”
She gave me a look. “I don’t understand how you can be so happy about this.”
“It’s like you said. I’m glad to be out of my tower.”
“He’s sent us to our deaths, and you know it.” Her face clouded over as she gripped the wooden railing. “Better ships than this have been lost to the Boundless Sea, and the Elding.”
Surprised, I took in her dark expression. “Why would he want to get rid of you? You’re his heir.”
Thuri frowned, glanced over her shoulder at the warriors—a collection of giants and humans—stationed around the deck, then shook her head. “In case we survive, I cannot say.”
For the first time in a long while, I looked at Thuri—really looked at her. And I recalled laughing with her in the kitchen when she’d wanted an extra dessert, back when we’d both been no more than six and eight. I thought of all those letters we’d exchanged before her brother had invaded. We’d written each other in a secret language that only we understood, gossiping about meaningless court romances. I remembered her bright smile that I rarely saw anymore. Even her eyes carried sadness now. The recent rumors were about more than Isveig’s fear of flames. They also told a tall tale about Thuri and how all those years ago she’d tried to stop her brother from killing every dragon and every orc he could find.
“You’d make a better ruler,” I told her. “And I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
She tensed, cutting her eyes toward the nearest human warrior, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Stop. You can’t say things like that out loud. You could get us both killed.”
“Except, like you said, Isveig already sent us on a doomed mission.” I cracked a smile, nudging her shoulder.
I’d meant what I’d said. Unlike Isveig, Thuri had never threatened me, she’d never locked me in my tower room, and she’d never raised her sword against the people of Fafnir. I truly believed she’d tried to hold Isveig back during the conquest. Once, I’d even spotted her scurrying through the alleys handing out bread and coin to the poor. For weeks after, Isveig had complained about a thief in the castle, but he’d never suspected his own dear sister worked against him.
Thuri sighed. “Speaking of this doomed mission, do you smell any Draugr yet?”
I took a sniff of the saltwater air, even though I already knew the answer. “No. We’re not close enough.”
Suddenly, she reached out and clutched my hand. Lowering her voice, she whispered. “Do you truly believe I could do it?”
“I do, Thuri. I really do.”
Lightning flashed; thunder boomed. A monstrous wave suddenly came from nowhere and slammed into the side of the ship. I didn’t even have time to gasp for air as I was tossed from the deck.
A ngry waves pushed me onto the shore, and my lungs burned as I coughed up seawater. I dug my fingers into the coarse sand and dragged my aching body away from the spray. I tried to think around the overwhelming sense of wet that clung to every inch of me. At least it was salt water. It was the only kind my skin could endure.