"Her Highness has arrived."
Ah, yes. Finally, somewhat positive news.
"Send her in," he commanded, standing and loosening the strings at the top of his tunic as he spoke. "Then bar the doors to any other visitors until I say so."
13
Herrick stirred as he slowly came to consciousness.
The surface beneath him was soft, the feathers within the mattress lining plush and warm. He was slowly rocking back and forth with the currents of the ocean. He stretched an arm out, seeking something… someone.
His long fingers stretched out next to him and found nothing but cold linen.
Memories from the last few weeks barreled through him— the cold floor of the cell, the burning of the iron around his throat, nausea from eating nothing but hard bread and broth, the endless torture from Baldr, the heaviness in his soul because hiseldrwas dead.
His eyes flashed open as Herrick sat up, the thin sheet that had been covering him gathering around his waist as he searched the small cabin for Maude. Quickly, the air in his lungs wasn't enough, and his vision started to darken around the edges as his breath thinned.
He wasn't dreaming; Maude had beenreal. She had been breathing, her heart beating under his touch, before he'd drifted into sleep. Surely, in his trauma, he hadn't made that up, right?
Just as Herrick was about to launch himself at the door to tear apart the longship, the door opened, and Bryn stepped inside. She stopped short when she saw his bare chest, the new burns that ran from his chest to his stomach in varying stages of healing. Something that looked like horror traced Bryn's features before she wrangled her features under control again.
"Gods," Bryn said, shaking her head as she reached for a loose, white tunic and tossed it to him. "Now I know why she bolted."
Herrick shrugged on the tunic, the cloth hanging off his lean form a little too loosely than it had before. He was already halfway to the door when he asked, "Where is she?"
Bryn eyed him for a moment, her hazel eyes running over his face, scrutinizing him the way Maude did when she was deciding whether or not to be honest with him. Rather than waiting for her response, Herrick let out a growl and turned for the door.
"She's on top of the main sail," Bryn finally answered when his back was to her. "She ran out of here in a frenzy and scaled her way to the top before hergaldercould react to her emotions."
Herrick remained paused in front of the door, his hand still on the handle. The iron still burned against his skin, sapping thegalderfrom him in a steady stream, but he ignored it. He needed to see her.
"When you see her, Prince, remember that she still has a story to tell," Bryn warned. "As do you, it seems."
The air in his lungs seized at the title, the same one Baldr had used when he tried to force information out of him.
"Call me Herrick," he said quietly, his voice strained.
With that, he ripped the door open and exited the small room before it swallowed him whole, alongside his panic.
The fresh breeze hit him first as he ascended the stairs to the top deck. Cold air wrapped around him as he surfaced, his eyes going to the horizon first. Flurries were beginning to swirl toward them in lazy patterns, the frigid temperature making itself known the longer he stood on the deck. To his right, the shoreline consisted of rocks too large to dock up against, a thick layer of snow long settled on the surface. The snow flurries turned to rain the closer they got to the surface, melting into drops of water that soaked Herrick's skin.
Before the iron band had been clamped onto his throat, the water falling from the sky would have invigorated him. Hisgalderwould have swelled within him at thecool touch. Now, nothing turned in his chest at the sensation. Hollowness spread from his chest into the rest of his limbs as he tried to swallow his horror.
Besides the few Elven who were steering the ship across the frozen waters, their glamours dropped now that they were a safe distance from Logi, Herrick felt isolated on the top deck. His soul searched for Maude, his fatemark pulsing on his chest like it was a beacon leading him toward her bright flame.
Bryn had mentioned that Maude had been on top of the mainsail, so Herrick ran his eyes up the tall structure to find a large concentration of shadows. They pulsed and danced like they were part of a larger entity, independent of the regular elements that those gifted withgaldercould control.
Remember that she still has a story to tell you.
A chill ran down Herrick's spine as he moved to grasp the ropes around the mainsail to begin pulling himself up toward the cloud of shadows, unsure of what awaited him at the top. Quickly, the exertion wore on him, and his breath came faster and thinner. Unease swirled in him as he continued to climb, the rough rope biting into his hands in a way that reminded Herrick that he was alive. He welcomed the pain into his body if it meant it would banish the memories of the dungeons.
Soon, Herrick broke through the swirling shadows to find Maude leaning against the mainsail. Her legs extended before her on the crossbeam that held the sail, ankles crossed. Though the ship bucked and shifted on the harsh ocean surface, she remained still with her chin tilted up to look at the new moon above her. Herrick paused for a moment to admire her in the starlight, how she looked so right sitting in their beams before he swung himself up to sit on the other side of the mainsail. Herrick put his back to hers and waited for Maude to speak.
Almost as soon as he settled himself against the smooth wood, the swirling shadows seemed to slow and then stop altogether before they disappeared entirely, fading into the existing blackness.
Time seemed to slip by as they sat in silence, the events that happened between Dagsbrun and now becoming a third entity between them.
When Herrick could no longer stand the silence between them, he whispered, "You died in my arms."
