Teeth (The Icefjord Saga #1)

by Zaya Feli

  “Why do you do his bidding?” Karel asked. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, hiding the mess of ink that covered his chest and back. “Sjaelir aren't servants.”

  She sighed, taking two wooden cups from the table. She poured, setting one cup on the table near Karel and taking the other herself. “Eskal is jarl. Aside from Ingrid, he's the only Runik left. He has none of the respect for us that his father and Steinar had. He claimed me on the way back from Jættedahl. Against my will.” She turned and brushed her hair aside, displaying a freshly inked Fehu rune on the back of her neck. “He's a swine. Go ahead and strike me for saying it if you will.”

  “I'm not going to strike you.” Karel took the cup of ale. He sat on the edge of the bed, the only seat in the hut except for the stool. “Have a seat.”

  Signy watched him warily, staying where she was. “I'm not going to do it,” she said. Her grip on the cup tightened.

  Karel raised an eyebrow. “Do it?”

  “Service you,” she said, as if it was obvious. “If that's what you're waiting for.”

  Karel stared at her, blinking slowly. “Service...” Then he smiled. “You don't have to worry,” he said, taking a sip of his ale. “That sort of thing doesn't interest me. I swear.”

  “Oh.” Signy came closer, still wary, but she took a seat next to him. “You like men.”

  Karel shook his head. “No.”

  She paused with her cup halfway to her lips. “No? Then what?”

  Karel raised an eyebrow. “Then...nothing,” he said. “Good mead, a warm fire, a hearty meal. Those I love.” He smiled again. It worked to ease her fear and she smiled back.

  “Isn't that...I don't know, lonely?” She leaned forward on her elbows, reservations forgotten.

  Karel shrugged. “I'm not lonely right now,” he said, taking another sip. “You're here, keeping me company.”

  Signy parted her lips to speak again, but didn't seem to know what to say. Instead, she brushed her long hair over her shoulder and leaned against the wall, resting her cup on her belly. They were both quiet for a moment, but it was a pleasant kind of quiet. Still, there was something left unsaid – something he had to address. Karel opened his mouth, but Signy spoke first.

  “Who claimed you so thoroughly?”

  The words died in Karel's throat and he raised an involuntary hand to his chest, then forced himself to lower it. “I...”

  “I'm sorry,” she said quickly, draining the last of her ale. “That was inappropriate. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.”

  Karel looked at her. She wore the expression of faint concern and disbelief he'd seen on so many people's faces. People at home never dared say a word because they all knew who his father was. “You mustn't tell Eskal.”

  Her eyes widened. “He doesn't know?”

  Karel shook his head. “And I want to keep it that way.”

  “Of course.” She nodded, sitting upright again. She folded one leg under herself, pointing to the cord around his neck. “Your concealment rune. Is it strong?”

  Karel nodded, setting his empty cup on the stool. “A lot stronger than he is.”

  “Good. I won't tell anyone, I swear.” Her eyes trailed across his chest as if she could see through his shirt before she stopped herself. She parted her lips and seemed to consider her question. “Why...”

  “Why so many?” Karel folded his hands in his lap, looking down at them. They were bare. His arms, too, up to the shoulders. They were the nicest parts of his body. Untouched.

  Normally, now was the time Karel would have ordered Signy out or made his retreat, but there was something calming about her. Karel knew it was dangerous, but the temptation of not being alone with this for once was too hard to resist. He sat up straighter and pulled his shirt back over his head.

  Hesitating for only a moment, she leaned closer, eyes tracking over every black rune on his skin by the light of the candles.

  Two runes, carved permanently onto his skin, again and again. Fehu three times on his chest, once on his shoulder, twice on his back. Sowilo was more numerous. Four on his ribs, two over his heart, one on his other shoulder, five on his back. Two bastard runes, one on his stomach and one at the back of his neck, just below the collars of his shirts. Karel knew them all, could trace every single one without having to look, except for the ones he couldn't reach. “Because of the distance,” he said, finally withdrawing to fold his arms over his chest when her gaze became too penetrating. Karel usually took pride in his body's good condition despite the frequent drains, but when she stared at him like this, it felt more like a failed attempt at polishing a ruined sculpture.

  Her frown deepened. “Distance? How far?”

  Too far. “Thirty-five times the usual. At least.”

  Her eyes widened. “No!”

  “Yes,” Karel said flatly.

  “There's so many of them,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “Doesn't it hurt?”

  “Mm-hmm. It isn't too bad,” Karel felt the need to add. He wasn't sure why.

  Signy sat back on the bed, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She blew out a breath. “Now I feel bad for complaining about Eskal. Who in all the realms did that you?”

  Karel clenched his jaw, unable to pry it open. He looked away. Father. His father had done this; his father put him through it every day. “It's for a good cause,” he said instead. “It's for my sister. She isn't well.”

  Signy shook her head again and reached out, peeling his hand off his opposite elbow and taking it in hers. “It doesn't matter. You have a life, too. Your purpose isn't to be some kind of...” She scrunched her nose. “Energy cow.”

  Karel smiled at that, taking her hand properly. He ran his thumb along her knuckles and gave it a squeeze. “I won't be for much longer. I'm changing my life,” he said softly.

  Signy's face softened. She leaned up on her knees and took his face gently in her hand, pressing her lips to his brow.

  Karel closed his eyes, inhaling. The simple display of kindness reminded him of his mother, which was ridiculous, because he'd never known her.

  Signy leaned back, eyes widening. Her cheeks flushed red. “Sorry. I hardly know you. That was—”

  “Not inappropriate,” he interrupted, bringing her hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss to it in return. “You're all right.”

  She smiled, taking Karel's cup from the stool. She started to stand, but Karel caught her wrist. “The same goes for you,” he said. “Your life is yours. Not Eskal's.”

  She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then squared her jaw and nodded, taking the jug off the table before heading outside.

  Karel watched the door fall shut, leaving him in silence. He smiled a little. He knew he shouldn't have told her so much of the truth, but it had felt good and he couldn't bring himself to regret it. Running a hand through his damp hair, he pulled the covers aside and slipped underneath.

  Yes, he was changing his life.

  * * *

  A shriek startled Karel awake. It was dark in the windowless hut and the fear of an attack in the night made him reach for his axe and stumble to his feet. When he turned to the door, though, faint daylight shone through the cracks of the wood. He took a moment to still his racing heart before putting the axe on the table and reaching for his shirt. He pulled it on, followed by his boots, vest, and coat. Then he ventured outside, sliding the axe into the loop in his belt.

  It wasn't hard to follow the sound of voices and shrieking. A crowd was gathering on the beach, and a raven circled overhead: Isa's raven, the source of the shrieking. It dove, claws stretched towards the people gathered below. They ducked, batting their hands at it.

  Karel frowned, pushing his way through the crowd.

  Eskal was silhouetted against the pale sky. Next to him stood Torsten, the blond warrior with the bulging arms. Isa knelt at Torsten's feet, head forced back by Torsten's hand against his throat. Isa's hands were tied behind his back.

>   “What's happening?” Karel strode across the sand towards Eskal.

  Eskal gave him a nod of greeting. “We're executing Isarin Eiriksson for his transgressions against Ulfheim and the people of the Icefjord. We discussed this last night.”

  “I wasn't there. I was resting,” Karel said.

  “I know.” Eskal drew his axe from his belt. “I sent Signy to see you.”

  Karel ignored the comment, stepping between Eskal and Isa. “You can't do this.”

  Eskal regarded him coolly. “Why not?”

  Karel swallowed. Fuck. He hadn't intended to do this now. There were still too many variables, but it could be salvaged. The plan could still work. Fenrisborg could take the Varg from Ulfheim easily. “Because he is the Varg,” he said.

  Laughter erupted from the men and women on the pier and the beach around them.

  “That's why we're here.” A smirk tugged at the corner of Eskal's mouth. “Or did you sleep through the entire past week? Actually, you might have.” Eskal pointed the tip of his axe at Karel's chest. “You promised me results in Jættedahl and I'm still waiting, little lost son of Tornlund.”

  Karel laid a hand over the hilt of Eskal's axe and pressed it down. “You didn't hear me,” he said, glancing at Isa kneeling on the sand. “Isa isn't cursed by the Varg, he is the Varg.” Karel turned his eyes back on Eskal, waiting for some hint of understanding.

  Eskal's eyes narrowed, searching Karel's face as if looking for signs of deception. “And you know this how?”

  “When I was in Fenrisborg, Runiks from all over the city felt a burst of power. The Varg never died. It's simply been dormant, awoken by the energy supplied by your strongest Sjaelir.”

  “The western boy,” Eskal murmured, running a hand over his mouth. “You didn't tell me—”

  “It's only since his arrival that strange things have been happening in this place, is it not?” Karel interrupted.

  “Even more reason why we should kill it now.” Eskal pushed past Karel and gripped Isa by the hair. Torsten let go, exposing Isa's throat to Eskal's raised axe. Isa simply knelt there, still as a child's doll, his eyes vacant.

  “Stop!” Karel closed a hand around Eskal's wrist, placing himself between him and Isa. “Have you forgotten the plan?”

  Eskal growled and gripped the front of Karel's coat, yanking him close. “Stop playing games with me!”

  Karel's heart pounded like a rabbit's, but he kept his face calm, wrapping a hand around Eskal's sleeve and prying his hand from his coat. “Think this through,” he said firmly. “Jera has the power to control every non-human creature in Midgård. The Varg is the most powerful creature in Midgård, a god amongst mortals.”

  Eskal hesitated, looking between Isa and Karel. “But we don't have the rune. We don't have a Runik who can wield it. All we have is this beast.” He jabbed a finger in Isa's direction. “And you want me to wait for this Jera rune to turn up while it tears Ulfheim apart?”

  “You're wrong,” Karel said quickly. He was on thin ice. “I spoke to the seers in Jættedahl. They saw you, Eskal. All of them. They saw you with the Jera rune.”

  Eskal lowered the axe slowly. His jaw worked and Karel could practically see his mind working to make sense of the words. It was a lie; all the seer had given Karel was a hint to the location of Jera, but so long as Eskal didn't use a truth rune on him, the lie was a risk worth taking.

  “They saw me wielding Jera?”

  “They did.”

  “You're certain?”

  “Yes.”

  “This changes things.” Eskal slipped his axe into its loop and Karel allowed himself a sigh of relief.

  “The Varg's ravens fly over all the land and see everything. If the ravens have seen Jera, the Varg will know. It's an alliance as old as Midgård itself,” Karel said.

  Eskal tilted his head back and watched Isa's raven circling above them. He locked eyes with Karel, then said, “Jari. Fetch a net.”

  “What's your plan?” Karel asked.

  Eskal smirked. “We have a raven. We need results.”

  Karel watched Jari dart towards one of the fishing huts and choose a net off a hook on the side of the building. “I'm not sure this is a wise idea.”

  Eskal hummed. “What do you suggest?”

  Karel pursed his lips. Talking Eskal out of his reckless plan seemed a waste of time. Instead, he asked, “Do you have some strong chains?”

  They moved Isa to the platform in the god circle, newly repaired with long planks of wood, though it still creaked when Karel stepped onto it.

  They hauled Isa to the table and bound him to it with heavy chains. Isa didn't resist. His bare chest rose and fell too quickly: a rabbit in a wolf's jaws. No, Isa was the wolf. Not that he had asked for any of this. Like Karel, he'd been forced to pick the short straw. Karel looked away when Isa turned wide eyes on him.

  It took eight attempts to catch the raven. She darted through the air, agile and swift, stretching sharp claws at anyone who dared come too close. On the seventh attempt, she broke free, sank her beak into the flesh of Torsten's forearm, and nearly caught Karel with her claws. He skipped out of the way.

  Eskal threw the net again and it fouled her wings. She plummeted to the ground, shrieks tearing at Karel's ears as Eskal grabbed the back of her neck with the cowskin glove they'd fetched from the smithy. On the table behind them, Isa begged them not to hurt her, but Eskal paid him no mind.

  The pines surrounding them stood like thin, dark sentries guarding the deeper forest. Karel felt his pulse beat harder. He had no idea if Eskal's plan would work or what would happen if it did.

  Eskal wrangled the raven's wings back, pinning them at the base with a spread hand. He held her body against the planks of the platform as her claws scraped the wood. She twisted her head around, snapping her beak at Eskal when he drew his axe and held it against her neck.

  “Don't hurt her! Stop!” Isa strained against the chains, the tendons in his neck tight. The glazed look in his eyes was gone.

  “Then give me what I want,” Eskal said. He fixed Isa with a glare. Skygge struggled in his grip. “Tell me where Jera is.”

  “Fuck, Eskal! I don't know!” Isa shouted. The chains groaned when he kicked against them, the cuffs sliding up his ankles.

  “Tell me now or I'll snap the bird's neck and feed its corpse to the dogs.” Eskal dropped the axe and wrapped his hand around the raven's head instead. “Tell me!”

  “Fuck you!” The table was slick with blood where the stitches in Isa's hand had broken. His chest rose and fell rapidly and sweat glistened on his bare skin. A wave of energy radiated off Isa. Even without a direct touch, Karel felt Isa’s magic stretch out, searching for a source to tap. It pushed against Karel’s skin with thundering power. Karel stroked a hand over his coat where the Dagaz rune lay; their eyes locked, but Karel’s Fehu runes held. Isa couldn’t reach him.

  Silence followed. Around them, the crowd watched Eskal uncertainly. Signy stood near the steps of the platform with her hands over her eyes and Alma's arm around her shoulders.

  Eskal's cry of frustration was so loud it made Karel jump. “It's not working!” He turned to Karel, pointing an accusing finger. “You said I was destined for this! You said I would wield Jera.” The raven struggled in Eskal's other hand. She stretched her neck and let out a deep, rasping caw.

  Karel stepped back, heel dipping over the edge of the platform. Fuck. He hadn't expected the lie to come back and bite him so soon. “Maybe there's another way,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “We could try a blood sacrifi—” The rest was cut off by a deafening crash.

  Eskal and Karel spun at the same time. Karel drew his axe, eyes darting between the buildings.

  Isa’s magic vanished from the air with a snap. Then came a bone-chilling scream.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A massive form appeared from behind the jarl's hall. The creature paused when it saw them, long jaws parted, sharp teeth glistening. Its fur was wiry an
d grey, its green eyes full of rage.

  Karel didn't realise he'd backed up until his hip bumped the table. Someone grabbed his wrist. Karel looked down; Isa's grip on him was white-knuckled, his entire body trembling with fear.

  “Let me up,” Isa gasped, fingers digging into Karel's wrist. “Let me up!”

  A prickle of energy stung Karel's skin, travelling up his arm. Even Fehu tattooed onto his skin six times couldn't stop the magic tendrils of need seeping into Karel's blood.

  Karel yanked his arm back as hard as he could.

  “Shoot it!” Eskal roared. He tossed the raven aside and she tumbled onto the platform, then shook herself and took to the sky.

  Karel spun. The Varg's snarl rumbled through the ground as it raced towards them, paws pounding across the wet dirt. To Karel's left, a woman was fitting an arrow to her bow. Karel threw himself at her, pulling her aim off.

  “Don't shoot it!” Karel called.

  “Are you crazy?” Eskal drew his axe. “Stop the beast!”

  The Varg darted sideways, around the platform and through the trees. It moved so fast Karel's eyes could barely follow it. For a moment, everything was silent except Karel's pulse in his ears.

  “It can't run,” Eskal growled. “The ward will stop it.”

  The crack of a branch made them all turn. The creature raced like a shadow between the trees, deep, chilling growls seeming to come from everywhere. Karel wasn't sure if it was looking for a way out or for its moment to strike.

  “If you kill it, you'll lose your chance,” Karel said, not taking his eyes off the treeline.

  “Fuck the Varg,” Eskal said. “It's not the only beast in this world.”

  “I need it!” Karel barked, then snapped his jaws shut before he could say anything else.

  The Varg shot from between the trees, puffs of hot breaths billowing around it as it ran at Eskal.

  It leapt, jaws open wide.

  A man leapt onto the platform and threw a bow to Torsten, who nocked and drew in the blink of an eye, sending the arrow flying straight for the Varg's open maw.