by Julia Ember
Once dressed, I raced to the beach. Many of the jarl’s warriors had already assembled there, blocking my view of the harbor. I tried to brush past them, but they were as impregnable as a stone wall. They all stood on tiptoe, craning to see what approached us. None of them acknowledged me.
Torstein pushed his way in beside me. He winked at me. Squaring his massive shoulders, he bellowed, “Get out of the way, you disrespectful bastards! The styrimaðr needs to get through!”
The warriors parted like a gate opening, and, for once, I wasn’t annoyed at his loud presence.
He grabbed my arm and tugged me to the front of the crowd. Honor and Aslaug already stood there. The jarl shaded her eyes, focused on a distant ship. Her armor was pristine, without a speck of blood or dust to mar its golden sheen. I wondered if Aslaug had polished it for her, while they sat and talked into the late hours.
“Look,” Honor said, pointing across the water.
I followed the line of her arm and swallowed. The ship that coasted toward our shore was not of this world. I had seen merchant vessels from the East with their deep berths, ornamented prows, and proud white sails, as well as the warships favored by sailors from across the North Sea. This ship was not human-made. It was built entirely from silver, with overlapping plates like snake scales. Sixteen metal oars protruded from each of its sides, propelling the titan toward us. The oars moved, but no one sat on the long, gray benches on the ship’s deck. Its mast stretched over ten meters high, bearing a wide, black sail. A cloud of cyan mist spilled over its deck and bubbled like boiling water.
“Archers!” Aslaug shouted. The first line of warriors raised their bows and took aim.
“No! Lower!” the jarl countered. She sighed and squeezed my shoulder. “We can’t slay a god with arrows.”
The great oars stilled. Shrouded by the mist, someone threw a large black anchor over the side of the ship. I scanned the water desperately for Ersel. I wanted time to talk to her, to tell her about the deal I’d made with the Trickster god. I wanted her to sail with me, but I didn’t want the invitation to come from Loki’s lips.
Heavy chains lowered a small wooden boat into the water. An invisible oarsman rowed it toward us. A golden eagle alit on the boat’s prow. It flapped its wings and screeched. Aslaug stepped in front of the jarl and drew their sword.
Dropping my axe in the sand, I walked to the edge of the beach. Torstein started to follow, but I shook my head. “They’ve come to claim my help,” I said. “You heard what I promised them.”
Torstein’s jaw tightened. “Aye. I did. But I didn’t think they would come so soon.”
I gestured to the ruined town behind us. “The jarl will appoint her own steward, but I want you to represent me.” My gaze dropped to the sand. “I’m trusting you with this. I’m trusting you not to just leave.”
“Leave?” Torstein gave a gruff laugh. “You still owe us our weight in gold. I’m not leaving until I get paid.”
I chuckled and stepped toward the ocean. The waves lapped at my boots. The rowboat shifted course, moving directly toward me. The eagle tilted its head and clacked its beak. Its eyes were brilliant, electric green. I waited for it to shift forms, to put on a show for the warriors on the beach. But Loki remained in the eagle’s body, just waiting. Their eyes never left me. When the boat stopped moving, Torstein dragged it to the shore.
The wall of warriors parted, and a small figure darted through the gap. Yarra stopped in front of me, panting. I knelt in the sand before her. As much as I wanted to take her with me, I had to do what was best for her. I didn’t know where the Trickster’s ship would take us or how long we would spend searching for the fragments of Odin’s dagger. She was still a child. She would be safe here, with the town under Honor’s protection.
I looked over Yarra’s head to the town behind it. I wanted to rebuild this place, to lead it, and to make that my life’s work. But if I didn’t go now, the town would have no chance at all. Loki would never forgive me if I broke my bargain with them. And while the dagger existed, my family would always be in danger. The jarls across the sea knew about the dagger now, and they all wanted their chance to make a deal with Loki. When Loki was free and the dagger destroyed, I’d come back to my home for good.
Their weapons poised, the jarl’s warriors watched the eagle.
I pulled Yarra to my chest. “I can’t take you,” I said. “But you’ll be safe here now. Safer than you would be with me.”
Yarra snorted. “I survived on my own in a cave for months. I think I can handle myself.”
“Keep an eye on Torstein for me then, will you?”
Torstein rolled his eyes. He peered down at the little girl. “I will live in terror of your report,” he said solemnly.
“I will be back,” I said to the eagle. “But I need to talk to someone else first.”
The bird gave an almost imperceptible nod.
I stripped off my chain mail and braces, then waded into the surf. The water was freezing, and my clothes dragged. I called Ersel’s name softly. She emerged from the water, blue hair falling like a curtain over her face. A relieved sob rose in my throat. I’d known she would wait. She swam to a rock a few meters away and pushed herself onto it. She shifted into her human form, then drew her knees up to her chest.
I paddled to the rock and leaned my elbows onto it. My teeth chattered. “Thank you for what you did, for coming back. I wanted to thank you last night, but the jarl said you were with your mother.”
“Yes, I needed to say goodbye,” she said. Her blue eyes were trained on the horizon. But if she had already said goodbye to her clan, then she was preparing to stay. We would have a chance to build something together, after all. I could prove to her that I had learned not to take her for granted.
“This isn’t exactly how I wanted things to go. I wanted to tell you about Loki before you saw, but they couldn’t wait,” I babbled. “At least the ship looks spacious. We should have a cabin—”
“I’m not coming with you,” she said and finally turned to look at me.
My heart sank like an anchor, right down to the bottom of the sea.
“Are you angry that I summoned Loki? When you were sick? I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know what to do.”
She shrugged and twisted one of the sea pearls in her hair. “I understand the choice you had to make. If you had sailed with me back to the North Point, you might have lost your chance to win Jarl Honor’s favor. Your cousin means a lot to you.” She gently lifted my chin so that our eyes were level. “And your revenge meant even more.”
“I realized after you left that I didn’t treat you fairly,” I whispered. My wet hair dripped water down my cheeks, and I was grateful, because it meant she couldn’t see that I was crying. “I shouldn’t have used you like a weapon. You sacrificed so much for me.”
“No,” she said, her grip tightening on my chin. “I didn’t. Whatever debt you had to me was paid when you sailed back and helped free my people from King Calder. I didn’t refuse my king’s orders for you. I never wanted to be Havamal’s mate if it meant staying in one place… being trapped. Everything I did, all the deals I made with Loki—it was all for me.”
“So you forgive me?”
She leaned forward and brushed a chaste kiss over my lips. “I’m always going to feel connected to you. Before I met you, I wasn’t brave enough to make my own way. I would have been trapped forever, just waiting for someone else to set a course for me.”
“Then why won’t you come with me? Is it because of Loki? Will you stay here? Will you wait?” It made sense that she wouldn’t want to sail aboard a ship captained by the Trickster. I didn’t know how long I’d be away, but if she could wait for me here, help Torstein start to rebuild… This town was on the coast; she wouldn’t get sick again.
Ersel pressed her lips together. “When I was a child, the only thing I dr
eamed about was escaping. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to see humans. You gave me that. But the sea is vast too, and there are so many parts of it I still want to explore. When I almost died, all I was thinking was that it would be a shame if it ended, and I didn’t get to see and experience everything I wanted to.”
“We’ll be navigating the world on Loki’s ship.” I reached for her hand. “You could see so many things.”
“I could see what Loki wants me to see.” Reaching under her hair, she undid the knot that held the talisman around her neck. “And afterward, what then? Would I stay here? You like command. This is a place you can rebuild and make yours. Maybe someday, I will want one place to call home again, but that isn’t what I want right now.”
Ersel whispered the incantation to the talisman. The little vial glowed white. She transformed into her kraken form, then slipped into the water beside me. She gently touched my back.
“Loki says I’m selfish,” I sniffled. I pushed myself onto the rock and settled in the space she’d vacated. My wet clothes clung to my freezing skin.
“Then so am I, if holding on to dreams is selfish,” she said.
She floated alongside me, then reached up to encircle my neck. Her lips pressed against mine. I remembered the day we’d first kissed, when she’d bobbed alongside my little skiff. I’d asked for luck: a mermaid’s blessing. She kissed me now with the same hunger we’d shared that day. Her fingers entwined in my hair. She rose a little way out of the water and pressed her body against me. She tasted of salt, and her cheeks were warm where her tears mixed with mine.
If we had rowed out a little farther that day, far enough away that no one would ever find us, would everything that had come afterward have been different? Could I have forgotten my revenge? Could we have been happy exploring the world together?
“When Loki first turned me into this, I saw only one path. I didn’t see that I had another option all along. I wanted to spend a lifetime exploring, but I was afraid to go alone.” Ersel lifted one of her tentacles out of the water. “But they made me strong. I can crush ships with these. I don’t have to be afraid of anything.”
I reached into the pouch at my side and drew out the sea pearls I’d taken from her. Her eyes widened and she held out her hand. I gently placed the pearls on her palm, then closed her fingers around them.
“These weren’t mine to take,” I said.
She combed out a section of blue hair with her fingers, then slid the pearls up the strands.
“Will I see you again?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Will you wait for me to come back?”
Ersel took Loki’s talisman and draped it around my neck. The vial pulsed against my skin like a heartbeat, alive with magic and promise.
“One day,” she said. “When I have swum across the whole of the sea, and my heart is tired of wandering, I will find you.”
Ersel dove under the waves and disappeared.
She would have her freedom at last. I would sail with Loki and return to rule. And even as I sobbed into my arms, I knew that she was right. It was what we both wanted most.
Eight
Mörsugur
The Bone Month
December
When my tears subsided, I swam to the shore. The whole camp had risen to see the ethereal ship floating in the harbor. The jarl was directing her men to load the skiff with basic supplies: salt fish, skins full of fresh water, dry wood. She couldn’t spare much, but I was grateful. She’d done so much for us already. I didn’t expect Loki to consider my human needs aboard their ship. It could be days until I got the chance to hunt or fish.
Trygve brought an armful of dry clothes. He sniffled as he pressed them into my arms, then hugged me gruffly with one arm. I didn’t ask him to go with me. Trygve wasn’t a fighter, and there was no one better to watch Yarra. I knew he would look after all the children as well as he had done with me. He would tell them all stories. He would make sure that they had a childhood, no matter what had happened to them. Torstein would have his hands full with construction and organizing the new settlers. They would balance each other.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the skiff. I carried my battle-axe in my hand. Loki had not mentioned a fight, but it was better to be prepared. The gods’ hatred of each other was legendary. Everyone knew the prediction of the Ragnorak, when they would kill one another at last. With a hatred so deep, Heimdallr would have hidden the pieces of the dagger well. I expected them to be guarded.
I sat on a rowing bench. Heat emanated from an invisible oarsman beside me. My crew pushed the skiff off the beach, and I felt a brush of fabric against my arm. I wondered what kind of enchantment Loki had worked on the crew that kept them invisible. Perhaps the god’s ship was crewed by specters of the dead. I swallowed hard. I was going to be alone at sea, with a cruel god and a crew of ghosts. Loki had never promised that I would return from this. I blinked back tears as Trygve hugged Yarra on the beach.
The oars beside me moved. A cloud of steamy breath erupted from the invisible oarsman beside me. Did ghosts breathe? The eagle hopped onto my shoulder and pecked my ear.
Smyain burst through the assembled soldiers. Without hesitating, he plunged into the waves. He grabbed the side of the skip and hauled himself aboard. The eagle ruffled their feathers and squawked at him. Taking no notice of the bird, Smyain sat on the bench opposite me.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He shrugged and tugged his tunic over his head. He wrung the water from it. “We all talked. We know you need most of us here, but we decided we didn’t want you to go alone.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You talked? You all made this decision without consulting me? I am still your captain. What if I wanted to go alone?
He looked down at his hands. “Do you really? I can swim to the beach.”
“No,” I said quietly. I hadn’t been willing to ask any of them to come. It was my bargain and my responsibility. I couldn’t guarantee his safety or life. But now that he was here, visible and corporeal beside me, an earnest smile on his face, I wasn’t going to turn him away.
I laid my hand on his arm. “But you have to understand—this could take years.”
“I’ll survive,” he said with a grin. “I always do.”
The invisible oarsman rowed us across the glassy waves to Loki’s ship. When we reached the silver berth, the eagle leapt from my shoulder. Smyain ran his hand along the metal. Up close, the metal plates looked more like feathers than scales, each with delicate silver rachis. The oarsman knocked on the ship’s hull and a cyan ladder fell from above.
My legs felt like jelly as I stood. Once I boarded that ship, there was no turning back. I closed my eyes, then eased my foot onto the ladder’s first rung. I’d pledged myself to a god, and there had been no turning back from the moment I gave Loki my promise. If I put the people I planned to rule in the path of Loki’s creature, how could I be worthy of their support? If I wanted them to follow me, I had to be willing to sacrifice for them.
I stepped onto the ladder, both feet on the rung. The pressure of the air changed, became heavy, as before a storm. I stepped back onto the boat and the pressure eased. Taking a deep breath, I began climbing. This ship’s magic ran deeper than its invisible crew and strange appearance. But whatever awaited us on board, I didn’t have a choice. Unless I wanted to unleash the Sleipnir upon my home, my bargain was sealed.
A pale, white hand reached down to help me when I neared the top of the ladder. The Trickster stood on deck, cyan mist swirling at their feet. Their golden eagle feathers had transformed into a radiant sunglow gown that hugged decadent curves. Their raven hair was swept back in a long braid, with eagle feathers tied into the end. Though their face was that of a young woman, their true lips showed through the magic. Loki did not try to hide the black threads binding their mouth. They wanted me to remember our mission.
The god’s mysterious crew sat on their rowing benches; they were revealed now that I stood aboard the ship. The nearest to me was a petite woman with jet-black hair and brown skin. She wore a red silk dress and golden arm bands. Next to her was a freckled, ginger boy who wore the black robes of the Gaelic monks. Another man wore a crisp white turban. A dog the size of a wolf rested its head in his lap.
It was a crew from all over the world. Some appeared to be from ancient times. A blonde thegn sat on the bench farthest from me with his eyes trained on the deck. He wore a rich blue tunic with a white trout emblazoned on the front. It was the sigil of the legendary King Forkbeard, who had been dead for over two hundred years. The warrior lifted his eyes to meet mine. Though his face was young, his eyes held a resigned heaviness, as if he had seen too much.
“Who are all these people?” I asked.
“Travellers,” said Loki. “People who wished to escape their worlds for a while. I borrowed this ship from the Norns. Everyone on this crew has made their own pact with Skuld or Verðandi. As have I.”
The Norns, deities of fate and time, mitigators of debt and sin. They controlled destiny itself. In their hands, time was as malleable as fresh clay. Skuld was the goddess of future and debt. Owe something to her, and one’s life became her payment. Verðandi commanded the present time. It was her gift to bestow, and she could take it away. Their sister Urðr commanded fate itself.
Suddenly, I was glad that my bargain was with Loki. The idea that the gods bargained with each other, and were themselves constrained by oath, was new to me. In the politics of the divine, I wondered who owed what and how the economy of promises worked. To get this ship, what had Loki had to bargain? And what had been promised in return?
I ran to the ship’s bow. The waves beneath us were barely moving, cresting in slow-motion. On the beach, the people appeared as statues. A bird flew overhead, flying so slowly it was as if it swam in the air. I reached into my pocket and drew out a coin. I threw it into the sea. It moved off my palm in slow motion: a tiny, golden star suspended below the rail.