Fell's skin was smooth and taut with muscle, with runic, serpentine tattoos snaking down his right arm and branching across his pectoral. But the left side of his body was covered with terrible dark burn scars. The discolouration travelled across his shoulder, most of his arm, one side of his ribs and stomach, ending at the v-shaped muscle running from his hip to his pelvis. The ruined areas looked barely human. They were old and healed in comparison to the fresh wound across his abdomen which gaped open, showing startlingly red flesh, but that did not stop a knife from twisting into Ciara's heart. She snatched her hands back as if touching the burns would somehow reawaken them.
"Did you know?" she whispered to Sebastian.
"No. Did you?" His eyes were huge.
"No."
What had happened to him?
Sebastian was gazing at Fell in shock.
"We need to do something. Isa?" Ciara heard her voice growing smaller and more childlike.
She ducked out of the cave to see Isa crouched in the snow with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring unseeing into the distance while Tonraq rested a tentative hand on her shoulder.
"Isa, we need your help."
No reply.
"Aunt?" Sebastian called. "Aunt, what should we do?"
"I think she's in shock. She feels cold." Tonraq put his arms around Isa. "I'll stay with her and keep a lookout while you two help Fell."
Of course, Tonraq would be useless in the cave, especially if he saw Fell's injuries – he wouldn't be able to keep his cool.
Sebastian seized Ciara's arms for the second time that day. "What do we do?" he demanded.
"I don't know!" she snapped, feeling more than a little shaky. "He's your uncle!"
"Yes, but I don't know how to treat wounds like this! Just because he's my uncle doesn't mean I know what to do!"
"Well, what do you expect me to do? I'm the one that tried to kill him, remember?"
"Just think of something," Sebastian growled.
Ciara had seen Cali treat injuries before. Think, think. She raked curls out of her face. There was only one solution she could think of that might stop Fell from bleeding out.
"I'm going to need warm water, the cleanest piece of cloth you can find, and willow bark. And put... put a knife in the fire." She closed her eyes briefly.
Relieved at being told what to do, Sebastian hastened to obey, and she heard Isa croak that she would collect the bark. Isa seemed unable to look at her brother, let alone go into the cave, and Ciara had a feeling they would get no straight answers out of her for a while. While the Midgarsons prepared what she needed, Ciara leaned over and brushed hair out of Fell's face. His skin was hot and clammy.
"You saved my life. You can't die while I'm trying to save yours. You survive when I try to kill you – you can't die on me just to be difficult."
She was trembling from head to foot when Sebastian returned.
She could not do this. She could not stomach it.
But she had to.
While Tonraq made a willow bark tea over the fire, Ciara bade Sebastian clean Fell's hand. She soaked a rag in hot water and wiped the gash on his stomach.
Fell's tendons stood out and his veins bulged like cords. He moaned.
"Keep... keep going," Ciara gasped. "It's going to hurt him, but we have to clean the wounds."
Sebastian dropped his rag. He fumbled to pick it up again. By the time they had finished, Ciara was close to wishing she was in Fell's place so she wouldn't have to witness someone else going through it.
When the wounds had been cleaned, Tonraq passed Ciara a birch-bark cup of willow infusion while Isa muttered that she would keep watch.
Ciara tilted Fell's head back and tipped the mixture down his throat. He coughed and choked, but she kept going until he had drunk most of it.
"We can put willow bast on the wounds now," Sebastian said. His face was as white as the snow outside. "Right?"
"We... the wounds are still bleeding." Ciara looked down at Fell's ruined body. The scars hurt her even to look at, she could not begin to imagine his pain. She hated herself for what she was about to say. "I'm going to – to cauterise them."
"But... Look at him. Surely there's another way?"
"There isn't, not out here. Burning them shut is the only way to stop the bleeding and prevent infection." She had watched too many hunters in Nome get infected and learn that lesson the hard way. "Get him a stick to bite down on so he – doesn't bite his tongue." Her voice wavered.
Sebastian did as she said. Ciara knelt to watch the knife tip turn from yellow to white in the fire, steeling herself, attempting to quash all emotion down deep. Her breathing was fast, her heart throwing itself against her breastbone. Isa's tracks in the snow told her she had gone to keep watch on the other side of a rowan tree. The late berries clinging to its boughs were a blaze of red against the rest of the world.
Ciara forced herself to pick up the knife hilt. "Sebastian, hold his shoulders down."
Sweat trickled down Sebastian's forehead as he watched her approach. She looked at the stick in Fell's mouth, his inert face, and prayed he would not wake up.
She knelt beside him, took his wrist and – hesitated. She couldn't do it. She was about to bring up the contents of her stomach. She could not do it and the knife was cooling fast and she was running out of time.
Biting her lip so hard it split, Ciara pressed the flat of the knife against Fell's stump.
She and Sebastian screwed their faces up at the smell of burning flesh, and Fell screamed. It could barely be called a scream. It was inhuman, the worst sound she had ever heard a man make.
Shaking, she turned to his stomach, and his eyes flew wide.
"No," he gasped through the stick, looking at her as wildly as if she was a stranger. He did not recognise her. "No, no, no! Please, I'll do anything. Please."
"I'm sorry." Tears burned her eyes. "I have to." If she froze again, the knife would be too cool to work with and Fell's pain would only be extended, she told herself. There was no room for fear. While bile burned her throat, she knelt across his thighs to stop him from thrashing and laid the blade against his abdomen.
Ciara and Sebastian fought to keep him down as his entire body jerked. She had never known such strength.
"Ciara, lift it off!" Sebastian cried. "You've done it – surely it's done by now! Stop it from hurting him!"
With a gasp, Ciara tossed the knife away.
Fell went limp in a dead faint, and Sebastian pushed past her to get out of the cave, retching. She let him go and prised the stick from Fell's mouth. He had snapped it in two.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She laid a hand on his burned shoulder where the dark skin rippled. It felt smoother than it looked. How many years had he borne these scars for? Would she ever find out how he had gotten them? If she were the one with these scars, would she ever want to tell anyone?
Ciara carefully worked Fell's tunic back over his head, leaving his abdomen bare so the wound could cool. She had never heard human flesh sizzle before.
Fell groaned, turning his head.
"Don't try to move," Ciara said. "Please."
"You're... alive," he mumbled.
"You sound surprised. I am, and we got you out."
"We?"
"Isa, Sebastian, Tonraq and I."
"Without... killing each other?"
Ciara gave a shaky laugh. It sounded forced. "How do you feel?"
"How do you think?"
"Right." She realised she was twisting the hem of her tunic in her hands. "We heard the bargaining you tried to do with the woman, Morrigan. You were trying to protect us."
"That's what a Midgarson does."
"It was brave."
He snorted, and winced as it pulled at his stomach. "What happened?"
"We used a bullroarer to chase musk oxen through the camp."
He stared at her without comprehension. Perhaps he was wondering if this was a fever dream. "Morrigan?"
"Still alive, although Isa did her best to kill her."
"Of course." His breathing was laboured. "Ciara... you could have let me die. You didn't."
"I was repaying a debt," she snapped. "You saved me, so I saved you."
"And what happens now? Do we go back to what things were like before?"
"Yes."
"How? Tell me, how."
"I'm sure you'll make it very easy."
"Don't be childish."
"What did you call me, during the hunt? Pathetic?"
The lines of his face grew deeper, darker. "You're really bringing that up again? Let it go. Since you've paid your debt, we no longer owe each other anything. What are you going to do now, kill me and undo all your hard work?"
"I'll think about it," she muttered. "Go to sleep."
Fell's eyes were already sliding shut, and he lost his fragile hold on consciousness.
Some thanks that was.
Rising, Ciara left to find more water and ran straight into Sebastian. He looked at her like she was a stranger.
"What?"
"Your mouth and chin are covered in dried blood. I was so worried about my uncle I didn't even notice."
"You should have given me a weapon," she said coldly.
"You look... intimidating."
"Well, maybe this will teach you not to leave me undefended in the future."
"By ripping a man's neck apart with your teeth?" He nodded sagely. "I think so. If nothing else, it's a good story." He fixed her with intense blue eyes identical to Fell's. "I wanted to thank you."
"I haven't saved him yet." She thought she'd hated their hostility, but she hated this even more – this strange gratitude, this truce. It would be so much easier to detest them all. How could she kill Fell and cause his family grief now that they had all fought together?
If she did it, how much of her soul would it destroy?
"Don't make me keep hating you," Sebastian muttered.
"Then stay out of my way," Ciara snapped, trying to cling to her anger, where the lines were clear. She and Tonraq against the Midgarsons.
To her annoyance, Sebastian did not rise to her bait.
Tonraq forced his way between them. "I've just been to check on Isa."
"What's wrong, is she all right?"
"She – you should go to her. She's by the rowan."
Ciara hurried around the tree to find Isa sitting with her legs splayed in front of her, her sword resting by her side. "Isa, are you all right?"
Isa's face was wan, her skin gleaming with sweat.
The lower half of her dress was soaked in blood.
"You're injured!"
"No," Isa said. There was a dead, empty look in her green eyes. "No, not injured by any blade."
"Then..." Ciara dropped to her knees by Isa's side and put a hand on her shoulder. Isa was muscular, but right now her shoulder seemed fragile, the bones light as driftwood.
"I have lost an unborn child."
"Oh, Isa. You were with child all this time? You should never have got into the fight."
"I suspected, but I wasn't sure. This has happened before. I was not about to abandon my own brother on the faint hope of what might be."
Ciara sank to her knees beside Isa. She didn't know what to say.
"You don't understand," Isa said. "You cannot understand. And I don't say this out of anger or spite – I mean if you haven't felt the... the primal feelings, the urge to be a mother, then you cannot comprehend the strength of it. It tears women apart." A violent tremor ran through her. "Terrible sickness hit my hometown once, and I saw a mother mad with grief steal another's child. They fought over her. Animals do that. I do not want to be that woman."
"You're right," Ciara whispered. "I haven't felt that. I never thought that you..."
"What? Maybe I have a certain... reputation among the men and women from my hometown, but does that mean I don't care? No. It's the opposite of that. I've wanted a child for so long. I am sure I could raise one on my own. But nature continues to deny me, and it tears... a little piece of me away every month." Tears ran down her cheeks.
"You aren't alone," Ciara said in a feeble attempt at comfort.
Isa let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "If you tell anyone you have seen me crying..."
"It shouldn't matter. You have every right to cry."
"Go back to Fell."
"We've seen to Fell. You're the one bleeding out. When will it stop?"
"It might keep happening for a while. Not forever. It will stop sometime." She was calm, almost concerningly so.
"Sebastian is with Fell, I can stay."
"Sebastian." Her eyes closed. "He is a good young man. How I wish we'd met him sooner. Fell and I have never stopped feeling guilty for missing out on his early years. We could have done so much more for him... And now I sound a lot older than I am. Go back to them."
"But you're –"
"Weak, alone? I'm keeping a lookout." Eyes opening, she balanced the sword across her lap. "And I'm not defenceless."
Sensing she needed time alone, Ciara busied herself melting snow for more water in a skin over the fire while Tonraq huddled close to the flames. A glance into the cave showed Sebastian sitting hunched by Fell's head, gripping his uninjured arm as if he could single-handedly keep his uncle with them.
*
That night, they kept watch in shifts and shared warmth in the cave when they slept. Fell had slipped into unconsciousness and developed a fever which was evident in the heat radiating from his skin and the way he shivered, tossed and turned. They placed a wrapped piece of snow on his brow and gave him as much water and willow tea as they could.
"If we don't get him back to the village as soon as we can, he might die," Isa said in a low voice that morning. They devoured the last of Sebastian's sausages, but Fell refused to eat. "It's a battle of strength, and I don't think he is strong enough to fight fever."
"His wounds feel hot to touch. Too hot." Sebastian joined them. "I've cleaned and dressed them with willow bast."
Ciara chewed on her lip. "There's nothing more we can do here. You're right, we must get him home. But can we risk moving him?"
"We could tie him to the sled, so he won't fall off it. Staying here might be more dangerous than moving."
In the end they decided to make the journey. They carried Fell carefully to the sled and strapped him down. He hid his pain well, but it was obvious he resented being useless.
Sebastian wondered aloud whether Morrigan would have her men searching for them. After a nod from Fell, he unhooked two axes from his belt and handed them to Ciara.
She blinked, but took them.
"Your knife," Fell said, the words like gravel.
"I lost it in the fight."
"Your father's. It's a shame."
"He made my quiver, too. Maybe I'll find the knife one day." Ciara hunched down to strap on her skis, wishing she could stifle her longing for them. She wanted to curl up in her old bed and pretend nothing existed outside the walls of the home she had grown up in.
They set off north, dragging Fell behind them and using skis whenever they reached a downhill slope, which aided their progress. At first, Isa and Sebastian flinched whenever the sled hit a rock. Even though Fell remained silent, they would whisper an apology every so often.
Finally he snapped, "Will you stop that? I would rather you sled over more rocks. Just leave me be until we get to the village."
"Cranky, aren't you?" Ciara skied alongside Fell, raising an eyebrow at him. "You know, we could just tip you off and let you make your own way back. I think I'd like a ride on that sled. Looks relaxing."
"Hilarious."
"One of us has to have a sense of humour."
Not even a smile. By all the gods, what would it take?
"Do you need more willow bast?" Sebastian called.
"I'll be fine."
She had the sense he would be saying that on his deathbed, but shrugged and skied ahead to scout the trail. They were wary of encountering anyone, but the forest rustled and waved its trailing green fingers around them, undisturbed. As the day wore on, it was incredibly easy to believe they were the only people in the entire world.
When the village emerged from the trees, Sebastian let out a whoop of joy.
Safety, warmth, and food awaited them.
Isa took Fell to the nearest healer, while the others trooped wearily to the inn. Ciara checked on her huskies, who the innkeeper had reassured her were being well taken care of in the kennels, before she locked herself in the nearest bathroom, peeled off her dirty clothes, and sank into the bath.
She groaned aloud as the hot water enveloped her. Warmth slowly seeped through her frozen skin and began to soothe the tense muscles beneath. Using a soap of ash baked with pine needles, she scrubbed furiously, removing any trace of dirt, sweat and blood from her body and scalp, until she finally felt raw but clean. Dressing in spare clothes – her old ones would be left to soak – she padded downstairs to the taproom feeling reborn. Isa had already paid for their meals, and Ciara wasted no time eating the soup which had been laid out for her: rich seal meat, tough whale tongue, thick blubber, and sweet orange cloudberries. It was exactly what she needed to get her strength back.
"Would you like some heather tea, Ciara?" Isa asked, sitting primly opposite her as if they were two ladies meeting up without a care in the world.
"I think I'll pass –"
"With honey?"
"Honey?"
"They have some in the stores here. Usually when we're travelling Fell thinks honey is a frivolous purchase that is a waste of money, but I'm in charge for now."
"Fell is bedridden."
"Yes, so he can't complain, can he? Here."
Ciara took a sip, and the sweetness hit the roof of her mouth, filling her with bliss.
"Personally, I prefer mead," Isa said with a shrug. "But this will do."
Ciara had already emptied her cup. "I can't believe you're taking advantage of your ill brother." Safe in his room in the inn, he was sleeping off his fever.
Sebastian crept up the stairs to check on him.
Watching her nephew, Isa's mouth twitched. "That's the fifth time since we got back. I keep forgetting he has never experienced fighting before."
"What, so you're not worried about Fell anymore?"
"I didn't say that. I was the one who almost drowned him in the snow when he was first burned. I watched him cling to life by a thread. Everything else in the world pales in comparison to that."
It was the first time Ciara had heard Isa hint to the Midgarsons' past. "So there was a fire."
"Yes."
"What happened? Who's Morrigan?"
"Morrigan has been in league with Darius for many years. It was him she wanted to hand Fell over to – for a sum."
"You're wrong." The idea that Darius would know people who could cut a man's finger off without flinching – no.
"Wrong, am I?" Isa sighed. "I'm tired. Let's not bring up old memories tonight."
"Are you all right? Has the bleeding stopped?" Ciara asked quietly.
"No, but it has lessened."
"Do I need to fetch a healer–?"
"I can manage."
Ciara just looked at her.
"Stop caring," Isa said.
"Yes, caring, it's awful, isn't it?"
Sebastian returned. "He's still asleep."
They fell silent and Ciara let the issue drop.
Tonraq stumbled in, having soaked in the bath for a disturbingly long time. He threw himself into an armchair beside Ciara.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Tonraq rubbed his eyes. "The screams... the blood... I can't stop thinking about it."
"I'm sorry, Tonraq. I tried to stop you from coming with me."
"Stop bringing that up, and stop apologising," he said. "It was my choice to come. And I'm proud of you for what you did back there."
"It was certainly... imaginative," Sebastian groused, making Ciara jump. She hadn't noticed his return. "Fell is still asleep."
"I'm not surprised," Ciara said.
"Your hair is soaking wet," Tonraq commented.
"I haven't untangled it yet," Ciara explained, painfully aware that she looked like a drowned rat and glad they had the taproom to themselves. "When it's wet it's the only time I can untangle it, because when it dries the curls are impossible to..."
She trailed off when Tonraq leaned over and ran his hands through her hair.
"Come here," he said. "I'll do it."
Slowly, Ciara unwound, reclining in the chair while Tonraq carefully worked his way through the knots in her hair. The heat emitting from the fireplace pressed a warm weight over her face, closing her eyes, as she let her guard drop for the first time since she had tried to kill Fell.
She dreamed of the dying white-haired woman. She could still feel cold fingers cutting into her arms, pinning her in place... Ciara woke with a jolt, a cry rising to her lips, but she managed to swallow it just in time.
She shivered. Should she tell the others what had happened? Would they dismiss her as being mad and delirious, a poor victim of the bounty hunters? That strange sensation she had felt when the woman had touched her face... Ciara attributed it to a delayed reaction to the cold. The woman had died and there had been no way to save her – as sad as it was, Ciara couldn't do anything about it, and she had enough to worry about.
*
Fell's wounds healed slowly. Whenever Ciara entered his room, he appeared to be in a bad mood. Once, she pushed her way in to find him shirtless, inspecting his abdomen.
"Don't peel the bandages off like that."
He snatched a pelt to his chin as soon as she spoke. Ciara averted her gaze awkwardly. It was strange, the realisation that the stoic man could become embarrassed or self-conscious.
"Apologies, I should have knocked. I just wanted to find my pack, Isa misplaced it."
"It's fine," he grunted. "Tell me what's yours and I can give it to you."
"Is that your way of saying 'I'm sick of you, get out'?"
"No."
"Are you thinking of bringing someone up here and you would rather I not be around?"
"No," he growled.
She paused, considering whether or not to give voice to her curiosity.
"Say whatever you're thinking, don't just stand there," Fell said.
"Oh, I... uh... Has there ever been someone, though? For you?" She couldn't imagine him opening up to anyone.
"Yes."
Ciara's eyebrows raised. "Really?"
"Don't act so surprised."
"No one tells me anything, I had no idea. What was – is – she like?"
"She is from a land of dark-haired and dark-eyed people, yet hers is pure white. She is the kindest and gentlest soul I have ever met."
"Did you have children with her?"
"No."
Was that a hint of pain in his face?
"What happened?"
"Darius. She is far away from here."
"So she is still alive. Did it end badly?"
"No. It... did not end. I just wanted her to be safe."
"You're still married to her."
She noticed that although he had let the pelt drop, it still covered every bit of burnt skin. Almost. There was a sliver of darkness where his neck met his collarbone, and the muscle undulated when he swallowed. He noticed the way her eyes wandered and shifted the pelt imperceptibly to hide it.
"They aren't awful, you know," she said, addressing the wall. "The burns. I don't mind." Heat rose to her cheeks.
"I have made peace with the way they look. I've no other choice, after all. It's the memories they bring back and the questions they raise when others see them that bothers me."
"They're old, aren't they?"
"Fifteen years old."
"Sorry. No questions, I understand."
He sighed. "It's all right. After what you did, I think you deserve to be able to ask." A glint appeared in his eye. "A bullroarer and a herd of musk oxen. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke."
"You don't tell jokes." Ciara grinned, but her smile slowly faded. "It must have been a bad fire. Morrigan said you fell from grace."
"The Midgarsons ruled my hometown. The original settlers were led by the first Midgarson, an explorer who adopted the family name because he believed that he would have the status of a god himself. And when he met the gods, which were widely believed in at the time, he wanted them to know he was of Midgard, the ancient name they had for this land."
"He sounds just like you."
Fell's brow furrowed.
"'The Midgarsons walked across the sea from the far north, and where they stepped, ice formed,'" Ciara murmured. "Is that when you met Darius?" The words rose without thought.
"What do you know of Darius?" Fell asked sharply, his voice a thunderclap, his face as dark as a cloud.
"Nothing!" She raised both palms, her heart picking up speed.
"My people are born of basalt and sea salt. The foam runs in our veins, the mountain wind through our hair. I haven't seen them in a long time."
"Why not?"
Fell did not reply.
"You're not going to tell me the story."
"You do not want to hear it."
Ciara scowled at him.
"You think I'm just going to tell you the story of my life, like I'm a skald?"
"I don't know, maybe. I think you should give up looking for the guardians and become a poet."
"And leave the task in your hands?"
"Of course. Who better?"
"The province would be overrun by musk oxen."
"Very funny. So you do have a sense of humour."