by Denali Day
“There’s something else,” he said.
“Oh?”
A hint of Hollen’s wickedness shone on his face. Without a word, he stepped out from beneath the forge’s shelter and whistled loudly for Jagomri. When he came back to her, his expression had sobered. “There's something I'd like to do, mu hamma, but it would require you to trust me for a short time.”
She eyed him. “What do you want to do?”
Hollen reached within his cloak to retrieve a thin strip of woolen cloth. He held it out to her, a sheepish look on his face. Joselyn blinked at it.
“There's something I want to show you, but much of the effect will be spoiled if you see it before we arrive.”
What could he want to show her that she would see from Jagomri’s back in the middle of the night? “I don’t understand.”
His mouth pulled into a tight line. “I was hoping you would let me cover your eyes.”
Joselyn's brows shot to her hairline.
“Just until we arrive,” he blurted, apology riddled across his face.
She eyed the thin strip of cloth. What harm could it do? If it would make him happy, perhaps she should allow him to blind her. Still, to be so helpless? The deep timber of Hollen's voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Do you trust me?”
It was a question, not a challenge. In the pale light of the waning moon, Joselyn breathed in.
“Yes.”
26
The Glory of the Gods
The night air was frigid enough to slice skin as it whipped past them, but Joselyn didn't feel it. She was warm beneath Hollen’s cloak, and more, beneath the weight of his chest. With his heat upon her and her eyes covered, she could have fallen asleep. A longer flight and she might have.
They landed with the same eerie silence they always did upon Jagomri. It was a marvel that a creature so large could move so gracefully. Joselyn lay still as she listened to the sound of Hollen unbinding his legs from the saddle. The thin air smelled fresh, and she licked her lips against the dryness of the wind. It wasn't long before he pulled her off and set her feet into the snow.
“Almost there,” he said.
Joselyn squeezed his hand as he led her. After a few moments, he stopped. His arms rested heavy upon her shoulders.
“Stay right here, mu hamma. Don’t move.” The insistence of his tone gave her pause.
“May I uncover my eyes?”
The edge vanished from his voice, replaced by excitement. “Not yet. Soon.”
Joselyn did as he bid. She stood, a bit awkwardly, as he rustled around before her. She shivered against the wind, which seemed especially fierce wherever they’d landed. Finally, Hollen’s fingers fumbled at the back of her head. Her blindfold fell away.
An enormous valley filled her vision. She stood only paces from the precipice of a cliff. She barely caught sight of the earth below before she gasped.
She took a hurried step backward and tripped over the toe of Hollen’s boot. He caught her with a large hand on her arm while the other flew protectively around her waist. How could he bring her to such a dangerous place? She was about to voice her outrage, but when she lifted her eyes, her entire body froze.
The sky was burning. Not with fire, but with every color Joselyn could imagine: aqua, fuchsia, azure, amber, and violet. The colors glowed, swirling against the backdrop of a star-studded sky. It was like a living mural painted by some celestial being on the ceiling of the world. Hollen had brought her to see The Glory of the Gods. She’d seen it before, though from Morhagen the mountain lights were but a dim whisper compared to this feast of vibrant color. Joselyn's eyes locked upon the sight, and her mouth fell open with awe.
“Why couldn't I see these lights from Bedmeg?” she asked.
“Bedmeg is too low on the mountain. Very little can be seen below the cloud banks. Also, it’s on the wrong side for this time of year. In spring they can occasionally be glimpsed from Bedmeg, but it's nothing like coming to the peak.”
“Are we on the peak?” Joselyn looked around, wary of losing her balance and somehow stumbling off the snow-packed edge.
“Yes.”
The peak of Mount Carpe. It was the tallest point on the earth, the closest one could come to the heavens. Or, so she’d been taught. Joselyn stared in open wonder.
Hollen stepped around her to sit on the ground. Joselyn looked down to see the bear skin he’d unrolled. So high up, Joselyn was hesitant to stand apart from him. When he gestured for her to join him, she was quick to obey. As she ducked down, Hollen grabbed her by the hips.
“Sit here, mu hamma.” He gestured at the spot in front of him, between his slightly bent knees.
Joselyn pursed her lips.
“It's no different than when we ride on Jagomri’s back,” he reasoned.
You shouldn’t.
She did.
Joselyn settled herself between his legs and allowed him to rest his chest against her back. She straightened when he laced his arms around her waist and laid their weight in her lap. Eventually she relaxed, resting her head against his shoulder.
They stayed that way for a while, quietly appreciating the spectacle of light and color before them. The wind blew, but Joselyn wasn’t bothered. Her clothes and her savage were of fine stock, and both enveloped her in their protective shelter. She’d not been so at ease in days. How ironic, considering her determination to avoid him.
“You’re looking at Regna’s love for his bride.” Hollen said, leaning slightly back to give her a better view.
“Helig?” Joselyn asked, thinking of the earth goddess the Dokiri often prayed to.
His face nodded against hers. “You asked me why we only claim one bride.”
Joselyn’s heart quickened. Did she have the strength to discuss this tonight? The reserve? After his gift, and tucked in his arms as she was, the last thing she wanted was to discuss their impossible marriage. She didn’t want to think of what would happen if she eventually succeeded in returning to Morhagen, especially what would happen to Hollen.
He carried on. “When time began, there were only the gods and the heavens. Regna begged Helig to be his bride, but she refused him. When Helig birthed the world, she brought forth all creatures, both good and evil.”
Joselyn snuggled a bit tighter against Hollen, who gave her a little squeeze. He waited for her to settle before continuing. “Seeing his beloved’s plight, Regna created a champion from his own flesh to master the earth and keep evil at bay. He sent his essence by way of a rainstorm that fell to the ground and formed a lake. From it sprung the first Na Dokiri. When the warrior had cleansed the earth of evil, Helig sent her daughter from the sand of that same pool to be mated to him.”
The cadence of Hollen’s voice was reverent as he accounted the details of his religion. Or was it his history? Perhaps it was both.
“Regna’s son had but to look upon Helig’s daughter to know that she was his, and that she would be his only. They were mother and father to the next generation of riders. They birthed many sons, but never any daughters, for daughters beget life, and all life belongs to Helig. After that, the goddess claimed her hatu, and she became his only. They were each other's reward.”
Joselyn turned the side of her face into Hollen’s chest as she considered his words. The story, which had started with his gods, was quickly turning into an explanation for his clan’s ways. Its existence.
“Every child born of Regna’s flesh can only ever reflect Regna’s strength. It is our blessing and our curse. For strength, while necessary to make a place in the world, is not enough to make that place worth fighting for. For that, we need Helig’s blessings. We need her daughters.”
“You need lowlanders?" Joselyn asked.
He nodded. “Helig swore to Regna, while his essence remained upon the earth, protecting it from evil, that the Na Dokiri would always have brides, but only if, like Regna, they proved themselves worthy and true. That is why we cannot claim brides until after the
Veligneshi. And it is why, like Regna, we must convince our brides of our worthiness.”
Joselyn shook her head. “But why do you only give yourselves one chance? Why are you resigned to living brideless if you can't convince the very first woman you take to marry you?”
“We have the right to choose, but we are not entitled to the whole world. With the privilege of choosing whomever the Na Dokiri wishes comes the burden of ensuring that he chooses well.”
“But how can you possibly know? How do you know the woman you choose will have you?”
Hollen half chuckled, half scoffed. “We don't.”
Joselyn turned her face up to his. “That’s an incredible risk.”
Hollen looked down to meet her curious gaze. “I'd rather take the risk than never try at all.”
Joselyn's cheeks heated, and she turned her gaze back out toward the sky, “But if you only have one chance, and choosing poorly means a life of solitude, how do you possibly decide? Why—”
She broke off. Swallowing, she dared the question that had been rattling in her mind for some time. “Why did you choose me?”
Hollen was silent for a little while. Joselyn forced herself not to press him.
“When I left Bedmeg in search of a bride, I didn't expect to come home with one. As Salig, my time for searching was limited, and I’d already waited so long. The first time I tried to leave, my mother hadn’t woken. It seemed like the gods were set against me.”
Regret welled in Joselyn's chest. Could he have ever been content? Here on this mountain without a family of his own?
“But when I saw you—” Hollen's voice took on an edge of awe. He pulled her upwards and turned her in his arms. Kneeling before him, Joselyn could just make out his features in the starlight and swirling colors of the sky. They cast an ethereal glow upon his bearded face.
“When I saw you, I understood that every delay, every hardship, every sorrow had been designed to bring me to you in that moment. You were everything I’d ever dreamed of. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
Her heart quickened at his praise, even as doubt niggled her chest. “Sigvard told me I’m like your mother.”
Hollen chuckled. “That podagi is occasionally right. You've given me trouble from the moment Jagomri released you. You can't imagine my satisfaction when you struck me with that stone.”
She snorted. “Satisfaction?”
“Yes. Because I knew in that moment there was nothing that could break you. The universe could contrive any obstacle, and you would stand your ground.”
Her eyes fell away from his. She traced a pattern on the shoulder of his furs. “I’m not your mother, Hollen.”
Lady Colette Potrulis had been a woman apart from her breed, exceptional in many ways. Her infamous reputation had been one of wildness even before her dramatic disappearance. Joselyn’s heart began to ache. She couldn’t possibly live up to that standard. Upon her arrival, she’d not even been able to start a fire. And now Hollen expected her to stand among his people as their peer? Their chieftainess?
He pressed a finger up beneath her chin. “That’s not why I claimed you.”
She searched his eyes.
“Your beauty is what caught my attention. It seems inconsequential to me now considering all that you are, but at the time, one look was all it took. But I didn’t claim you then. I kept returning to you for days. Each time I saw you I became more convinced that you were the one the gods had chosen for me. I knew you were a woman of great importance. How could you not be? With an armed escort of fifty men? And yet, where were you?”
Joselyn blinked. “On horseback.”
Hollen grinned. “And set far apart from your guard. I watched you on that hilltop, your red hair blowing in the wind like a torch. You were fearless as any man, and proud.” His hands tightened on her waist. “I wanted you. I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”
She thought of the other thing Sigvard had told her. “You think I’ll give you a love like your parents had? Some epic romance to make you feel like your father’s equal?”
Hollen frowned. “My father was a great leader. The finest Salig in five generations. I won’t deny my respect for him or the love he held for my mother. It was his love for his hamma that gave him strength. That’s why his strength deserted him when she died.”
Joselyn grimaced, regretting having brought this up. Hollen rubbed a thumb over her jaw and into the cleft of her chin.
“My desire for you isn’t born of some need to succeed my father. I know that I’ll love you, Joselyn. I’ll love you as much as Father loved Mother.”
“But why do you think that?”
“Because it’s already started.”
Joselyn’s skin grew hot, and she looked away. Her throat tightened and, to her horror, tears stung the backs of her eyes. She blinked them back. Hollen didn’t seem to notice. He brushed the pads of his fingers along her jawline and down the column of her throat. She swallowed hard. She had to keep her emotions in check.
“You’re not my mother. You are Joselyn Helena Elise Fury.” His eyes skimmed over every detail of her face. “And you are mine.”
Liar. A venom-filled voice hissed in her mind. Your own mother didn’t want you. Your own father sold you. Hollen is better than both. Why would he want you?
“I don’t belong here, Hollen. Soon you’ll see that, and you’ll be glad for my departure.”
Hollen stared at her with denial riddled on his face. He shook his head once and opened his mouth to speak. Joselyn cut him off.
“I only regret that you may claim no one else. At least you can have a widow. A . . .gritu.” She forced the last words through a tightened jaw.
Hollen’s mouth snapped shut. “Truly? You would see me bound to another?”
“You’ll grow to love one of the gritus, if you only give yourself the opportunity. There isn’t a plain woman in of all Bedmeg.” The words tasted like dirt on her own tongue. The thought of another woman sharing Hollen’s bed made her stomach churn.
“You really think one of the gritus would have me?” he asked, irritation thick in his voice.
Joselyn cocked her head. “Of course. You’re Salig.” And you’re Hollen. What woman wouldn’t want you?
His jaw tightened. “And every woman there knows how I feel about you. They’d know that I was forever comparing them with your memory. It’s hard enough being claimed as a gritu, knowing that the man you’re with will never conquer the final rite. But to have seen how much he wanted another? To know that you’re just a substitute?”
Joselyn hadn’t thought of that. Even so, it couldn’t be that no one would have him. It couldn’t. “I think you underestimate yourself.”
“No. You do.” His arms stiffened around her and his dark eyes flashed. “You can be very sure that I won’t bind myself to anyone else. And the thought of you with another man makes my hand itch for my axe.”
He was jealous. He wanted her to be jealous. Joselyn tried to dismiss the wave of giddiness that swept through her. She should keep trying to reason with him, make him understand that this thing between them couldn’t last.
She didn’t.
Silence fell between them. For a while they just watched each other. Joselyn’s hands bunched on his chest, rising and falling with each of his breaths. They grew quicker. Shallower.
“Joselyn, when you kissed me—”
She shut her eyes, unable to stop the flood of emotions that came torrenting. She’d tried to pretend that moment had never happened. Until now, he’d allowed her.
Hollen leaned forward. “—I got a taste of the future I feared was locked to me, that I’d barred myself from with my own deceit.
Joselyn remembered the feel of her lips pressed against his. Her first and only kiss. In moments like this, while she was looking at him, it didn’t seem like madness that had driven her to that moment. More like inevitable impulse. Destiny.
“Mu hamma”—a little shive
r wracked its way down Joselyn’s body as he breathed that endearment— “I’ve never tasted anything sweeter.”
Her hands had trailed up his chest, over his throat, to pet at his beard. The little hairs were warm against her pinkened fingertips. One of his hands slid behind her head, drawing her forward.
“Let me taste you again,” he said.
Joselyn stiffened. Her hand went rigid against him. Their faces hovered apart by a shadow as she whispered, “It will be all the more bitter when I leave.”
His eyes, black as the night around them, settled upon her. “Don’t leave.”
He tilted his head and closed the distance between them.
The moment their lips touched, the tension in Joselyn’s body dissolved like snow in the light of summer sun. She’d cautioned him. If he wouldn’t see reason, then neither would she. Not in this moment. Joselyn closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss. The warmth between them roared into burning heat within seconds.
As Hollen opened his mouth on a sigh, Joselyn’s lips parted as well. She breathed in his sweet air, and didn’t resist when he deepened the kiss. A shiver wracked through her as his tongue swept along her lower lip. Her nails grazed over his earlobes, and she reveled to feel his own tremor. His massive arms pulled her in. She could feel every hitch of his breath. A little moan escaped her. Joselyn felt, rather than heard, the answering rumble in his own throat. Her eyes fluttered open.
His gaze was languid. It brimmed with desire. He broke apart from her, breathing in half-finished gasps. His whole body seemed to thrum and rock with the tension of unspent energy. He brought his roughened hands to either side of her face and brushed back errant strands of hair. Joselyn shuddered as forbidden pleasure pulsed through her veins.
“I need you, mu hamma,” he panted.
Joselyn sucked in a breath. Unable to bear the intensity of his eyes, she closed her own. She pressed a cheek into one of his palms. He was always so warm.