"We won't get there in time," Liv said, running to catch up with Maude.
Maude wouldn't—couldn't— allow herself to consider the alternative. She would make it to him and rescue him from her father's clutches.
Clarity had forced itself into Hakon's eyes at the news, his drunken stupor long gone by the time they reached Maude's room. She blew the doors open on a harsh wind, heading for her bow that Liv had returned and the extra daggers she had acquired over the last few days when she was in the Training Hall with Bryn.
"You'll take one of my longships," the Shadow King said, never taking his eyes off Maude. "A handful of sailors can operate it and you'll get to Logi in no time on the water."
"I'll help navigate," Hakon offered as he continued strapping his sword onto his belt.His fingers tripped clumsily over the buckle, something he tried to hide by turning his body slightly away from everyone.
"Maude, we need to slow down," Bryn started to say, but Maude shot her a glare.
"We don't have time to slow down. You've all kept me here long enough," Maude growled. "I'm going after him."
"I'm just suggesting that we need a plan. We can't just burst through the front doors," Bryn responded, her hair beginning to float around her head from the wind she pulled in from the windows as her annoyance sparked.
"I'll send word to my spy in the palace that you are headed to Logi," the Shadow King offered. "They will expect you in two days; you should make it there swiftly if the winds are favorable. Where should I tell them to find you?"
There was only a moment of hesitation before Bryn said, "The Green House in the slums of Logi. It's right next to The Broken Bones Pub."
They all stiffened for a moment at her words.She knew Sigurd?
Maude forced away the detail for the moment, shoving some extra leathers into a pack to bring with her.Since she woke from her stasis, Aeric had provided them all with a comfortable wardrobe of fighting leathers and more casual clothing for lounging. The billowing wide-legged pants that hugged her curves had become a staple of hers when she would curl up with Bryn and read their mother's journals.
Her favorite piece of clothing, however, had become the black leather vest that she wore over her looser tunics. The cut of the vest showed off her curvy form that she loved so much while also providing a place for her to stash some of hersmaller knives where they could be hidden in plain sight—a benefit of Shadow Elven-made clothing.
The scraps of her mother's shawl lay as neatly as they could in their state on top of the pile of clothing from before they got to Nida. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the fabric that she had worn around herself for years. After a moment, she withdrew her hand and left the shawl where it was— she could not hold on to sentiment when her focus needed to remain on Herrick. The woman who wore the shawl to conceal herself from the world and the gods no longer existed. She died in Logi to protect her sister.
"Consider it done," Aeric said, inclining his head toward Bryn before turning back to Maude.
Distantly, she registered that Liv would bring them to the docks from the palace. They all agreed to meet her at the front of the palace in five minutes, giving everyone time to gather their weapons and supplies for a short trip. They would have to return to Nida because Gunnar would remain here, but really, no one wanted to say aloud what kind of state Herrick might be in when they found him.
Alone with Aeric, words burned in her throat. Maude wanted to thank him for helping her rescue Herrick, only she could not find her voice. It should have been easy— he was her birth father, and he had known and loved her mother. But he was a stranger to her.
Instead of thanking him, Maude nodded sharply and walked past him into the hall, leaving all the unsaid words behind her. As she passed him, the male reached out and put a tentative hand on her shoulder.
"We'll speak more when you return. Safe travels, Maude," he said softly before releasing her.
Maude made her way to the front of the palace and didn't look over her shoulder at the King of Shadows once.
The city of Nida blurred around her as she followed Liv down the winding streets that led to the circular bay in the city's center. The bay narrowed into a long river that would carve through the mountains and bring them to the open sea. The beautifulElven city went unseen to her and her friends as they sprinted through the streets, their weapons glinting in the bright sunlight of the early morning. Elven and a few humans would dodge out of the way when they saw their group running. If they didn't, Liv would shout something in Elven and the space would clear.
With every step, her foot would pound on the stone below her, and her heart would beat another sound into her ears.
Herrick. Herrick. Herrick.
She had left him after letting him past her barricades that night in Dagsbrun. She had run from him because he was her fate. But in the moments before her death, she had realized just how foolish she had been, how she had let him into her heart and been a coward for running from her feelings.
Maude had chosen her revenge over him, and now Herrick was the one suffering at the hands of her father. There was a lot she needed to make up for, but she couldn't start until she freed him.
Now, when she got her revenge, it would be with him at her side. Maude would accept no alternative.
Quicker than she expected, their group arrived at the docks. Aboard the vessel, a frenzy of motion was taking place. Elven were preparing the oars, stocking the ship with goods needed to travel, and tying the sails into place for a long voyage. Hakon and Liv hopped aboard the longship, the former becoming immediately comfortable with the crew and ship as he racked his round shield on the railing with the rest that lined the long edges of the boat.
Bryn lingered at the edge, hesitation coloring her pale features. Maude stopped beside her, her heart furiously pounding from the adrenaline that hadn't left her since Aeric had brought them the news from Logi.
"Why do you stall?" Maude asked, wrapping thin black linen around her wrist and hands the same way she prepared for a pit fight.The wooden oars would tear her palms to shreds if she didn't wrap them, even with her skin calloused from the years of training.
"I grew up in a desert," Bryn said, her voice nearly trembling. "The closest I've come to being submerged in water is a bath or floating in the shallow waters of the coast. I don't know how to swim."
