A SEER'S SOLACE , KAZ BREKKER

iv. over troubled oceans

Randvi only nodded at that, forcing a small smile onto her lips. So he had chosen his country over his family? Where was the honour in that? She ought to be proud of him, but she couldn't help but feel a bitter resentment at him for abandoning them. And what did they have to show for it? They had no food, or money, or comforts. He had died for a country that didn't care for him.

Her mother seemed to notice the distant look Randvi had, and the way she threw some twigs into the fire.

"I will let you go hunting with your brother soon."

A small smile appeared on Randvi's lips, her gaze immediately meetings her mothers.

"You will?" She asked in excitement. "When can I go? Can I go tomorrow?"

"We will have to wait a few days. After what you did .. " But her mother's voice trailed off. "The Drüskelle may want to speak with you, and it's not a risk I'm willing to take. Once this blows over, then you can hunt."

The feeling of resentment and sadness soon washed back over Randvi. Why did she need to lay low? The Drüskelle occupied themselves hunting Grisha and waging war with Ravka, they wouldn't waste their time on a girl that had done nothing more than a party trick.

Still, a question burned in her mind.

"Do you think I'm a drüsje? Would far have killed me if he were still alive?" Randvi asked, playing with her fingers.

She dreaded the answer. What if she was drüsje? What if she was an evil witch? She would be forced to spend the rest of her days hiding who she really was.

"Oh, Rúna." Her mother breathed out, taking her hands in hers. "Listen to me, you are not drüsje. You are not evil, or an abomination, or a witch. You have been chosen by the gods. You are blessed, not tainted. Your far would have been proud."

A sad smile weaved its way onto Randvi's lips.

Her mother opened her mouth to speak, but soon grew silent. The sound of crunching footsteps on the snow could be heard outside, with the faint sound of horses and whispered hushes. Randvi watched nervously as her mother grew startled and jittery. Soon, at the sudden shout of "Ondetjärn!", her mother shot up and began rushing around the small house.

Randvi moved to rest of her knees, watching in confusion as her mother clumsily stuffed things into a small bag, before running over to fetch a dark black cloak.

"They're here." She said in a hushed whisper, taking a quick glance out of a window.
"Who?"

"Rúna listen to me very carefully."

Randvi was pulled to to her feet by her mother with a force she didn't know she possessed, and a cloak was wrapped around her body. She hadn't thought anything of the voices, or of the glow of torches that began to light up the darkness outside. Randvi thought they were just men from the village that had returned from the hunt, but the look on her mothers face said otherwise.

"Go out the back and hide, and wait until your brother returns. Do not move unless I come and find you, and do not go with any strangers." Randvi watched her mothers shaking hands tie a bow in the string of her cloak, pulling the hood down to hide her face. "If you hear anything that sounds bad, you run. Do not go towards Djerholm or the Fjerdan ports, but go towards the permafrost and across into Ravka. Travel as far away as you can. Do you understand?"

But Randvi found herself lost for words. She had no idea what was happening. Just moments ago the two had been smiling besides a fire, and now Randvi had to abandon her terrified mother and hide. From what? The Drüskelle wouldn't be after her, she wasn't a witch.