“Together? Definitely not.”
“How do you know?”
Ivor dipped her chin, her umber cheeks warming into copper. “Because Vali is not her type. Let’s go before they leave us behind.”
Ailsa scoffed and flipped a heavy wave of her hair over her shoulder. “And forget his precious Tether? I think not.”
Ivor carried both their bags over her broad shoulders. “You and Vali seem to be warming up to each other. He used to look at you like you were injured, now he looks at you like you’re a meal. He even smells different.”
“What are you talking about?” Ailsa laughed off her concern, but Ivor’s face remained hard as stone.
“Everyone has a scent,systir, and they change depending on a person’s intentions. I can tell when someone is friend or foe by the hostility they emit through their smell alone. When Nikros was around I could sense his lust for you, as well as Erik’s desire and your father’s bloody ambition. Your sister’s were always joyful and liberating. Vali initially smelled like something rotten and musty, like vengeance but fouler. Now, he smells… like the first blooms of spring. A scent I am unfamiliar with.”
Ailsa shook her head and stepped up to the gangplank, taking in a sight no mortal had ever had the privilege of witnessing. Even shrouded in mist, the Realm Between Realms was too beautiful for the finite words in her mind to articulate. There was a mystery here that was searching, reaching for her. Like she was always meant to find this place.
“Perhaps the elfin just took a bath, Ivor.” Ailsa failed to see the significance in the way someone smelled. Besides, there was no going back now. She’d been at his mercy since the day he threatened her people. At least helping him kept them all safe from his wrath, made him return to his world and keep him out of her own.
“I’m warning you, Ailsa. His objectives are changing—"
“His objectives do not matter. Like he said the other day in the cabin, he needs me alive to carry this power, or I would probably be dead on the shores of Drakame. I have nothing to fear from him but his golden glare.”
Ivor tugged her back from the plank, pulling her close. “Intentions and motivations always matter. Do you value your life so little you will follow him without question?”
Ailsa swallowed, her throat suddenly bone-dry. “What choice do I have, Ivor? I can’t go home now. We must see this through. Besides, I have a plan when I see the gods.”
“Oh?” Ivor’s brow arched. “What did you have in mind?”
She turned to face the wolven as the last fae filtered from the deck. “If I live after they take this power, I want to be healed. If I die, as Vali is inclined to believe, I want to see my mother again. I want her and my family forever in Valhalla together, even if they must drag her out of Helheim themselves. If I’m forced to do this, I’m going to get something out of it myself.” Her name was called somewhere on the grassy shore, beckoning them to hurry. “Besides, I’m getting what I’ve always wanted.”
“What is that?”
Ailsa looked out into the Realm Between Realms and smiled. “An adventure.”
* * *
They traveled in a company,with Vali leading the way and Seela bringing up the rear. Like Ailsa, they were each armed, even Ivor had been given a small blade she strapped around a muscular thigh. The fae pulled carts of supplies using their magic, resorting to manual labor when the drain became too much. She watched as Sorrin pushed off one of the carts, clutching his lower back as a grimace struck his fine features.
She quickened her pace to catch up to him. “Sorrin? Are you all right?”
He straightened quickly and walked it off as if nothing happened. “Oh, Miss Ailsa, of course. I’m just fine. Don’t fret over me, my backside just isn’t used to this kind of labor now that I’m nearing my second century.”
Two centuries!He looked no older than his early thirties. The fae, to her annoyance, had eternal beauty going for them as well. “Nonsense. Come find me when we stop. I have something that might help if your special elfin skin will let it penetrate.”
He sighed, noting the decision in her voice, and halfheartedly nodded. Sorrin had unintentionally nuzzled into a softer place beneath her heart, reminding her of Obrecht the blacksmith back in Drakame. It was hard to imagine a warrior past the steel gray eyes that pinched every time he laughed at her endless teasing, or the bone white hair always neatly combed down his back. He was endearing to her and her only companion in this company besides Ivor.
He kept his promise a time later when Ailsa’s audible breathing prompted Vali to break the line. She found a nearby tree to prop her weight against while Ivor brought her things.
“Pipe?”
“No, just the oil will be fine. Thank you,” she managed between breaths. They had traveled into a dense wood. The fog was heavy here, so thick the light only filtered through the frayed canopy of the trees, revealing only a few meters deep into the edges of their camp.
She massaged a drop of oil across her sternum, feeling the effects with every rise of her chest. Sorrin coughed uncomfortably and pretended to be engrossed by the foliage.
“I’m fine, Miss Ailsa. Please, I’d hate to use up your herbs—"
“Lay on your stomach.”
“Pardon?”