by Kira Brady
He released her, filled to the brim, and rested his forehead on hers. His breathing was labored. “Thank you.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like a million bucks,” he said, repeating her words from when they’d first met. Then, he’d given her a little bit of his blood to heal. In return, she’d taken everything. His peace. His quiet. His ability to ignore the outside world while he focused on his experiments. His complacency as the Drekar struggled without his leadership. His heart. “You’ve changed me, Grace. I never wanted to rule. I didn’t think I had it in me to take power and send men to their deaths—”
“That’s not fair. There is no other option—”
“Listen. Yes, and you’ve shown me that true leadership isn’t a thirst for power but showing up and doing what needs to be done, even when what needs to be done is the last thing I would choose to do. You make me want to be a better man. Not just a ruler who will do the least bad thing, but a king who will lead his people to victory. When I’m with you, I want to believe we can win this thing.”
She bit her lower lip and looked away. Dismissive, even as he bared his heart to her. Joining forces with a Dreki, sex—these she could take. But when he brought the discussion to a higher place, feelings and promises and plans for the future, it was only too clear she had one foot out the door.
If only he had more time. He kissed her—a gentle kiss, but it still had the power to heat his blood—and brought the conversation back to solid ground. “And how is . . . it?”
Grace released a breath. “The Heart is peaceful. I think she liked that.”
“Did she now?” He brought his hands down to Grace’s hips and slipped his thumb between them, rubbing right where she liked it over the seam of her pants. She welcomed his touch. He wanted this to be more than about sex, but he would take what he could get. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Mmm. Maybe you shouldn’t stop.”
“I like how you think.”
“Kingu would never find us,” she whispered.
He started to unzip her pants. Ye, gods, he loved this woman. “I—”
The door to the carriage rattled. Someone banged on the window. “Regent?” Thorsson’s impatient voice.
“Damnation.” He kissed Grace one last time. “Rain check?”
“You better deliver, Regent Asgard.” She bit his ear lightly. “And that’s a threat.”
“Regent?” Thorsson asked again. “Bad luck to keep your Heiðr waiting.”
If Leif was going to get another chance, they needed all the luck they could get.
The Heart lay quiet as a bomb waiting to be dropped from the Enola Gay. Not a moment went by when Grace wasn’t hyperaware of it. She meticulously searched the surface of her iron bulwark for cracks. Leif’s taste of her soul hadn’t done a thing to weaken her defenses. Thank Freya. It was so different from Norgard. So different from the shameful wash she’d always assumed was the nature of the soul kiss.
Leif put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “You are stronger than the Heart. You’ve been holding it in for so long. Knowledge will only make you more powerful.”
“You think Birgitta might know how to defeat her?”
“I don’t know. I imagine those runes Sven taught you are doing the best job keeping it inside, but if we want it out—”
“Then what? What happens when Tiamat is free to roam the earth again? What happens when she takes over someone weaker? Someone vulnerable?” She’d always prided herself on being strong, but knowing it was the Heart who’d helped her all these years sent a sick jolt through her gut.
Leif rested his forehead against hers, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Grace, you haven’t changed. You are still the strongest person I’ve ever met. You think just anyone would be able to trap a goddess inside themselves?”
“I just want it out.”
“We’ll do it. I promise.”
Drekar couldn’t lie. He really believed they could cast the Heart out of her. She wanted to believe him so bad it hurt.
The atmosphere of Market Street had taken a turn for the worst. Grim merchants stripped their shops of supplies for the battle to come. The troll in front of Birgitta’s shop bared its teeth at them when they rang the bell. Birgitta met them wearing a long blue cape lined with cat fur. Her loom lay empty, and the finished weaving hung across the door.
Birgitta ordered Grace to strip. She examined the runes. “Ja. You must have been a very strong woman to start out with.” She finished her study and let Grace put her clothes back on. “Those runes trap her. But you could cast her out. A spirit sending, like the Volspa do.”
“I can’t risk the Heart escaping. How do I kill it?”
Birgitta sat back. “How should I know? The same way you trap and kill a wraith, I guess. Bind the wraith to the body, mark it for the Gate, then kill the host. If the body dies without binding the wraith, it will escape.”
“No.” Leif grabbed Grace’s hand. “Bind the Heart to me. Let me bear this burden.”
“No.”
“We’ll find another way,” he said. He took her jaw and forced her to meet his eyes. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash. No heroics. We’ll solve this together.”
“I don’t think we can defeat Kingu without the Heart. You need me.”
“Yes. Gods, yes.” He kissed her.
She let him in. Let him soothe the heartache, if only for a moment. Live for me, she thought as she opened to him, taking his tongue deeper. She would live on in his immortal memory. A different kind of forever.
Leif broke away. Both of them breathed like the room lacked oxygen. “You are a survivor. Don’t quit on me now. You can bind the Heart and Kingu in another body. Trap them both there and banish them.”
“But how do we choose the sacrificial lamb?”
“Let Kingu choose. He likes war. He can’t feel the heat of battle without a host. He won’t be able to resist.” He turned to Birgitta. “We need that favor now. Gather the heathwitches together to draw a summoning circle for Kingu. We need to confine him to the battlefield.”
Birgitta’s face drained of what little color it had. “What if we are trapped with him, burnt out of what little magic we have? Leave an old woman her silly pastimes.”
“Think of Sigrid—”
“Ja, ja. I know.” She waved him off. “I will stand. Let Freya’s Hall ring with the happy cackles of old women plump on wine and boar.”
Leif gripped her shoulder. He remembered her as a mewling newborn. Only yesterday he’d held her hand as she took her first steps into the wide world. He’d danced at her wedding and watched her spread her light into her own clutch of tiny humans. He couldn’t look at her and not see the shining soul that had first looked out at him with those innocent, sky-blue eyes or see the web of sparkling light she’d spun through her children and grandchildren. The wrinkles crisscrossing her face spoke of a long, laughter-filled life—the web of her love imprinted there for all to see.
He hated asking this of her. A babe to an old, old woman, she’d earned her rest.
“Come now, child.” Birgitta patted his hand on her shoulder. “I have a little strength in these old bones yet. Let me show you youngsters what we old folk are made of.”
In her bedroom in the turret of Kivati Hall, Lucia threw the last supplies into her carpetbag.
“Don’t you think you should pack a nice dress too?” her mother stopped sniffing into a handkerchief long enough to ask. “What will you wear when Corbette comes to pick you up?”
Lucia closed the bag with a sharp click. Her parents had been in and out of her life for the last six months, alternating between making her feel like a newborn and a leper.
“I don’t know why he doesn’t guard you himself,” her father said. He stood at the mantel with his pipe clenched tightly in his teeth, his brown mustache quivering. “He’s been so devoted to you. How he could send you off into the wilderness with no one but that unpredictable Lord Kai as a guard, well, I don’t kn
ow. Who will protect you from the Thunderbird?”
Her mother gave a little cry and buried her face in the handkerchief again. “My poor baby!”
Lucia took a deep breath. How had she survived six months of this? Her melancholy reinforced their idea of her helplessness. “Corbette needs to lead the warriors against Kingu,” she told them.
Her father snorted. “Kivati will never join the Unktehila.”
“Then not even Canada can save me.” She stared out the window to the view of the ruined city towers so she didn’t have to face her parents. They refused to see that Corbette didn’t view her as a grown woman. They all had that in common. “And he hasn’t been devoted—”
“He’s very protective of you,” her father said. “He must care for you very deeply, even after the”—her father coughed—“incident.”
That wasn’t the same thing at all, she thought darkly.
“But he should keep her close, don’t you think, Milton?” her mother asked. “A queen is not just a figurehead. She is the spiritual leader of her people. Even in the darkest days, her elegance and royal bearing impart faith that everything will turn out right.” She turned to Lucia. “The sky-blue gown would be perfect, dear.”
Really, if her mother mentioned her outfit one more time, Lucia was going to scream. “Yes, well. I’m not the queen, and no one will see me while I’m mildewing in a forest somewhere.” She picked up the bag, crossed the room, and gave them each a quick kiss on the cheek. “But you’re right. A queen should be visible to her people.” A plan had hatched somewhere between the Drekar Regent’s visit and her parents’ backhanded pep talk. She was so afraid that her father was right. Big things were happening in the world. She could let herself be bundled away to wait it out, but then she would always be a passive player in her own life. Maybe the prophesy wasn’t true, but the Kivati still needed her, especially if Corbette wasn’t going to put aside his oath and stand w ith the Drekar against Kingu.
It was a crazy plan. It had little hope of success, and more than one major hurdle. She was so tired of the melancholy that sucked her under, and she’d made progress in the last few weeks. The plan filled her with dread, but she was even more afraid of returning to that passive state where other people decided her fate and other people fought her battles. Afraid of the Tablet. Afraid of the wraith army. Afraid of herself, that she might have another panic attack right as Kingu attacked. If she let herself be bundled off to Canada while other people fought Kingu, she didn’t think she would ever regain the little self-confidence she’d earned.
Leaving her room, she raced up the circular stairs to the very top of the tower and burst out into the open air. From here she could see the whole city. Queen Anne houses in pink and green trailed down from the hilltop; gingerbread and iron gables gave the hill a whimsical, fairy-tale air. A ten-foot wrought-iron fence surrounded the Hall and grounds. Charms guarded the gate.
The picture across the Ship Canal contrasted sharply with the view below. On the other side of Lake Union rose the new towers of the Gas Works. The Regent’s troops already gathered on Kite Hill. It wouldn’t be long now. She could watch the entire battle from the safety of this roof. But that would be the coward’s way out. Even Corbette couldn’t be that stubborn, could he? She glanced down to the lawn below and saw warriors preparing for battle. There was hope, then, that Corbette would intervene. Hope that the Kivati would win the day against Kingu and the city could finally know peace.
Crows lined the top of the tower wall. She found one she’d used before. “Here, Elwa. I have a message.” The crow gave a little caw and held out its leg. She tied a small piece of paper onto it with a twist of red ribbon. “Bring this to the Drekar Regent,” she told it. She hoped the Reaper was there. Lucia didn’t trust the Dreki, but she knew Grace did.
The message was brief: The Kivati will come.
With Corbette or without him, Lucia thought as the bird launched from the tower and sailed across the Ship Canal. May the Lady have mercy on us all. She turned and raced down the stairs again, carpetbag in hand. At the bottom, warriors with the Western House’s black armbands were gathering to listen to instructions from Lord Kai.
“Elinor is in charge while I’m gone,” Kai said.
The Cougar nodded sharply while she finished filling her arrow sheath. “A demigod, and you’re needed here,” she said. “The girl is safest here too, unless you expect Kivati Hall to fall.”
Kai shook out his mane of curls. “Ah, Eli, you strike to the heart. But listen, little sister, to your elders. The Western House will represent while I’m gone, yes?”
“Yes, sir,” the warriors chorused. They were a disreputable lot, but anyone could see their loyalty to each other went past House or blood. They would follow Kai through the Gate if need be.
Lucia hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She cleared her throat.
Kai turned. “Princess.” His mouth tightened, and he gave a half bow.
“I know you don’t want to take me to Canada,” she said.
Elinor snorted.
“As Corbette wills it, and the Lady,” Kai said, not quite answering. “Loyalty, Lady Crane, must be earned.”
His double meaning cut her. Her lip quivered, and she raised her chin. She knew she had done nothing to earn their respect. Since the Unraveling, she hadn’t done anything to change their opinion of her: spoiled little rich girl, the favorite of Corbette and his blind spot. It would be easier to follow along dutifully and hide in that forest in Canada. To simply bob along in the river of Aether while it carried her where it willed. Do this, little Crane. Be that, Harbinger.
“The warriors are massing,” she said. “Doesn’t Corbette plan to join the Drekar? I would be safer here. I could try to persuade him—”
“What’s your leverage?” Kai hefted his pack over his shoulder. “Because I’d rather fight with my men than babysit you, if it’s all the same.”
Just then a tall woman with ebony hair strode through the Hall’s front door. She was more handsome than pretty and had the same sharp nose and air of command as Corbette. Her movements were decisive. Following her was a beautiful blond man who smelled lightly of cinnamon and could only be Drekar. Every warrior in the room reached for his weapon. Kai stepped in front of her.
The woman looked at them and snorted. She rooted her feet in the hall like she owned the place. “Lady-be, this place is just as stuffy as I remember,” she said. “Where is my brother? Emory!”
“Lady Alice!” Will came running into the hall to greet her. Lucia had never seen him look so happy to see anyone. It was a complete transformation. He stopped just short of taking her hand. “I’m so glad to see you well.”
“Well enough for the moment,” she said. “But not if what the crows tell me is true. I hope that large army of Drekar and humans massing across the Canal will very soon be joined by an equally lethal army of Lady-blessed Kivati warriors. Tell me my brother has put aside his enmity with the Drekar. Where do we stand on Kingu?” Her mate, the Dreki Brand, came to stand next to her. He twined his fingers with hers and the couple stood, united in everything but blood. The sight was so strangely beautiful: two great enemy races united in love by this one defiant couple. Lucia couldn’t help but be moved.
But Will’s face turned stony. “I don’t think Emory has forgotten your father’s murder so easily, or the rape and pillage of our land by those same Drekar, or the century of Kivati blood shed for our freedom.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Will,” Lady Alice said. “Father was a forgiving man, but he would be ever so disappointed if we let past mistakes sabotage the fate of the free world. Where is the black-hearted Lord Raven? Take me to Emory.”
“Hello, Alice.” Corbette had been watching from the stair and no one noticed. How could someone who seemed to take up so much space move so quietly when he wished it? A stillness descended on the entry hall, a heaviness to the air from the paving stones to the arched ceiling three stories above. Tendrils of Aeth
er swished around the walls and climbed higher. Alice and Corbette stood staring at one another, a lifetime of conversation spinning between them across the Aether. Only very strong Aether mages could communicate directly into each other’s minds. Lucia knew Corbette could do it, but it appeared his sister was equally gifted. A pin could drop.
“I made a promise,” Corbette said, face wreathed in thunder.
“A foolish promise by an emotional youth. Surely the Lady would forgive such idiocy.”
“I am a man of my word.” Corbette turned to Kai and his warriors. “See to your places. We protect the hill.”
“But Emory—”
“No, Alice. And I will not be so easily felled as Halian was. Any man or woman who joins with a Dreki betrays our sacred honor,” Corbette said. Next to Lucia, Kai flinched. Alice bared her teeth, and her husband moved to hold her back from attacking her brother. “The Dreki is not welcome to fight by our sides, but he will not be my prisoner. I am not heartless. If you mean to stay, Alice, gear up.”
Lucia watched the Kivati aid disappear like morning fog over Lake Union. Lady help them all. She stood frozen for a long moment as the warriors moved to their tasks. It was now or never. Could she do it?
“Let’s go, Lady Lucia,” Kai said. “Our window of escape grows short.”
“I have something I wish to discuss,” she said.
“Can it wait?”
“No.” Her stomach felt like she’d eaten glass, but she’d seen Kai flinch. She knew his secret: in one of her midnight trips to see Grace, she’d stumbled upon him and Astrid Zetian, the advisor to the Drekar Regent, up against an alley wall. Lady Alice had abandoned the Kivati with her Dreki lover, but Kai was one of Corbette’s most trusted generals. There was no graver offense than consorting with their ancient enemies, and it looked like Kai, with his pants around his ankles, had been doing his damnedest to forge traitorous new bonds between their two races. If Corbette found out, he’d kill Kai himself. Lady, please let me do the right thing. Lucia didn’t think the Lady would smile on blackmail, but it was her last hope.