Chapter 10
Svanhild slid the gloves onto her hands, feeling the unfamiliar tightness of the metal armour that wrapped around her arms. Per's smiths had nothing ready-built for a woman. They had spent the past few hours reshaping some boys' armour to fit her, and she couldn’t quite feel comfortable in it. She brushed her hair back over her shoulders and slid the helmet into place, her vision narrowing to two circles ahead of her. Klaus would be found, and he would face justice, as he deserved. Time to hunt.
“Are you ready?” Aleks asked, stepping up beside her, his own helmet under his arm.
“This cannot come soon enough.”
He nodded solemnly and raised a hand to gesture Per's men forward. He pulled his own helmet on, his familiar face becoming a smooth expanse of expressionless metal. Svanhild looked away, focusing on the open water ahead of them.
“He will be hiding in the forest. There is nowhere else for him to go. Spread out, men, but remain in small groups. We will try to flush him towards the lords still waiting for him at the Icy Shores fasthold.”
A murmur of agreement came from behind her.
Gunnar, appearing on her other side, sniffed at the water, an eerie blue light glowing around his head. The human magician seemed to be a gifted tracker as well as a powerful sorcerer. What a relief that he supported her, not Klaus.
They set off through the undergrowth, slowly at first, and then faster, as Gunnar sped off towards a scent that caught his nose. The excited hunting sharks sprang off behind him so quickly that their handlers could barely keep hold of them.
Svanhild kept as close to Gunnar as she could manage, ignoring the kelp that caught in her hair and tangled around her arms. The armour felt heavy and awkward, far harder to swim in than her usual wrapped tunic and ropes. How did men fight in something like this?
Gunnar disappeared from view, hidden behind a thick growth of black seaweed. Svanhild put on an extra burst of speed, flying through the darkest part of the undergrowth. No Gunnar. She looked around her, suddenly realising that Aleks and the men were gone. How had she lost them so quickly? A faint cry sounded in the distance and she started towards it.
A burst of pain suddenly flew through her and she kicked out, feeling ropes wrap around her body and magic burn into her skin. Her arms were pinned to her sides, her legs trapped together, and her chest so tightly bound that she could barely breathe. Forcing herself to calm down, she sucked in a full breath. She hung in a magical net, one of the strongest she had ever felt. The magic was unmistakable - Katrina had made this.
Just like the magical net that held the ocean together, much of selkie magic was bound up in ropes and nets. The women all knew how to make them, whether for fishing, defence, or - most dangerously - for magic. Not every woman could knot a magical net; controlling that kind of power took more control and skill than most learnt in a lifetime. And if it went wrong, the consequences could be fatal. Katrina was one of the few women who had the skill naturally. Svanhild had often wondered if that endeared her to Klaus just as much as her looks did.
“Regretting all the times you neglected your netting lessons?” a voice asked from behind her, sounding almost friendly, but with a vicious undercurrent. Klaus. As if he knew anything about her abilities. He had no idea what Margit had taught her in private.
Drawing in another deep breath, Svanhild willed herself to total calm, and let her magic reach out to stroke against every single knot in the rope. Impressive power, even if she did not want to admit admiring anything Katrina did.
With one final burst of power, the net disintegrated and Svanhild span around. Klaus stood in front of her, poised and waiting in the centre of a small clearing. He smiled.
“Very impressive, my dear. You always did show such promise. It's a shame that I will have to kill you like I did your father.”
Perhaps he did not know that Katrina's nets only held men, not women. Perhaps he did not know that his lover had let him down.
“You admit it, then?” Svanhild asked, drifting almost imperceptibly towards him.
He laughed. “You watched the memory yourself, did you not? I stabbed him in the back and let the ocean wash away his blood. So poetic.”
She lunged, all thoughts of subtlety and caution gone, feeling nothing but the sword in her hand. Klaus parried easily, his own sword moving at an almost impossible speed. Svanhild struck again, as hard as she could, but he fended her off and stepped closer.
“Help me,” she called, sending the cry not out to Aleks and the men, but to the ocean surrounding her. She felt her words catch on a thread of the great magical web, and then they vanished. Had her plea been heard?
Klaus struck first this time, his sword slamming onto her helmet and sending her reeling, the water lighting up in the colours of a bruise. Or were the colours inside her head?
“You will never win,” he screamed at her, as she raised her sword with weary arms, only just parrying his next thrust. How had she ever thought that she could take on a man who had trained for this his entire life? Another blow rained down. She knew that the next would be her last.
And then, suddenly, the magic answered. In one tiny movement, a strand of black kelp reached outward, glittering with power. It brushed against Klaus's leg as he lifted his sword for the final blow, and Svanhild felt the magic tug. Klaus stumbled, slipping sideways. It was enough. Svanhild lunged forwards, catching his sword with her own and sending it flying as he instinctively reached for balance. Unarmed, he stared up at her as she raised her sword again.
“We have him!”
Aleks and Gunnar shot past her, grabbing Klaus by each arm and forcing him to the ground on his knees. The rest of the men poured into the clearing, the hunting sharks arching and snapping around them, and Svanhild lowered her sword with shaking hands.
Klaus was wrapped up in ropes in just a few moments, powerful spells holding him still and silent. He glared at Svanhild as the men dragged him away, but he could not say anything else to hurt her.
“What on earth were you thinking?” Aleks roared, spinning Svanhild around to face him. She pulled her helmet off, dropped it to the ground, and yanked his hands off her.
“Keep your thoughts quiet,” she told him furiously.
“Don't ever do something like that again!” he shouted, ignoring her. “Why didn't you wait for me? You could have been killed!”
“I can look after myself!” Svanhild shouted back. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”
“Just someone who loves you! How could I live without you? How could I go on if I lost you? Don't you dare do that to me again!”
His words slammed into Svanhild like the wave of a tsunami. She stared up at him, the exhaustion and confusion almost too much.
“I couldn't go on without you, either,” she said finally. “You mean everything to me. How could I be strong without you? I'm sorry.”
Aleks stroked her cheek, and the world around them faded away.
“We are strongest together,” he told her.
She nodded, her thoughts too jumbled for words. He was so beautiful, gazing down at her, and so strong. They both deserved a new start - together.
She lifted up, drifting a few inches off the ground, and pressed her lips to Aleks's. He froze for a moment, and then she felt him snap. Magic flew out into the water around them as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. He kissed her back, hard and sweet, and she cried salty tears into the ocean waves.
“I love you, Aleks,” she said straight into his mind, never breaking the kiss.
His arms tightened around her, and she felt free at last.