Page 31 of Dragonbound

‘Whatever you had in your pack, turnips, some meat,’ she said. The edge in her voice hadn’t softened.

Guilt pricked at him again. He wanted to apologise, but he was worried that would just open the door to more questions.

‘I brought just enough to make it through my journey from my aunt and uncle’s.’

‘Your aunt and uncle?’ Sereh turned slightly, remembering now. ‘So that’s where you came from? Don’t they live southwest of here? How did you end up on Vatna Jokull?’

There it was – the questions again.

‘Yes,’ he muttered. ‘I came from my uncle’s.’ Then he focused very intently on his soup, watching her over the rim of the cup, hoping she’d let it drop.

Her blue eyes were bright with questions, though she deliberately looked away, lips pressed tight. She knew he was avoiding her. How long she’d stay quiet, he couldn’t say. But he welcomed it. For as long as it lasted.

They finished their soup in silence. Erann slowly relaxed as she didn’t push further. When she was done, Sereh poured some soup into a cup for Arrow, who lapped it up noisily, giving them both something else to focus on instead of each other.

When the wolf-dog finished, she padded over to Erann. He reached out and scratched between her soft grey ears, her warm breath brushing his face.

‘Thank you, girl,’ he murmured.

She studied him for a moment with her yellow eyes, then turned and went back to Sereh, flopping down with her head in her lap.

Sereh stroked Arrow between her downy soft ears as she stared out into the starlit night, her lips still tight, as though it was an effort not to talk. The fire crackled softly, remarkably stable, despite the increasingly wild storm blowing outside, and Erann found himself wondering what they were burning before his attention drifted back to Sereh, studying her. Her face was a perfect oval shape, her features small and neat. Her lips formed a delicate bow. Her hair was now hidden under a white wolf fur hat, although stray wisps of pale blonde – almost gold – framed her face. But it was her eyes that arrested his attention.

They looked too old. Too tired. Too haunted. They looked like his mother’s.

He wanted to ask why. He wanted to ease the dark shadows beneath them. But he didn’t dare. He couldn’t ask about Rankil – the man he hated. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask after his sister. Their parting had been bitter, and it would hardly be a secret, especially from someone who served in Aras’s new household, as he’d recalled Sereh did. Why was she on Vatna Jokull? He didn’t know. Neither did he feel the urge to ask.

So instead, he forced himself to his feet, wobbling, and stepped outside briefly beneath the clear, cold stars to relieve himself out of the wind, which blew as fiercely as the night before. Then he returned, taking the opportunity to slip his father’s journal into his backpack and lie down on the makeshift bed.

He turned his back to the fire so he wouldn’t have to see Sereh – or feel her watching him surreptitiously.

But sleep didn’t come.

He listened as she moved around, tending the fire a little too loudly, packing and repacking the backpack, until at last she settled down. He stayed still, saying nothing, not turning around, hoping she hadn’t found his father’s journal. He didn’t want to share it with her.

Only when she crawled under the furs next to him did he shift at all – just enough to give her a little more space.

She huffed softly before turning her back on him.

He stayed tense until her breathing slowed and steadied. Only then did he let himself relax.

He’d leave at first light.

He couldn’t risk staying so close to someone who asked too many questions. There was too much he couldn’t explain himself about why he was on Vatna Jokull and how the steading had burned down. Decision made, he lay there with his eyes closed, breathing evenly, waiting for the first hint of daylight so he could slip away.

22

ERANN

Erann left the cave as soon as there was enough light to guide him. Arrow lifted her head as he crept outside, but settled herself across Sereh’s sleeping form. Fog hung close to the glacier’s surface, but this time it was definitely fog, not smoke. He felt a twinge of guilt, but he needed to get to Rankil’s and while Sereh hadn’t said as much, he suspected she had no desire to return to Rankil’s steading. He felt better if he didn’t know too much. He needed the man’s help. He could hardly lie to his face, even though he knew Rankil wouldn’t feel the same compulsion.

He walked all day, stopping only when necessity dictated, relieved to finally step free from the glacier’s treacherous surface as darkness began to fall. As much as he wished to press on, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake two nights in a row. He found a tiny cave in the mountainside closest to him. It was so small he could either keep his head or his feet out of the wind, but never both at the same time. It was an uncomfortable and cold night as a storm blew up and howled in and out of every available hole in the cave. He’d unintentionally left his backpack with Sereh, and his belly grumbled loudly. He was pleased when it was light enough to get moving again.

The final leg of the journey took him less time than he thought. He was much closer than he realised last night. Ahead, the squat steading grew closer and closer, and with a grimace and a sigh of relief, he stamped to the door through the heavy snow, noticing as he did that no path had yet been cleared. It would appear no one within Rankil’s steading was as keen to escape its confines as he would be. But then, he frowned, they no doubt had more food supplies than anyone else, and there’d been more snow last night so perhaps any path had been covered.

Erann banged on the door and waited. When there was no reply, he banged again. Snow shook loose with each blow, dropping to the ground in soft clumps, and he glanced up, eyeing the heavy build-up on the roof. He didn’t want it coming down on top of him. Still, no one answered.

His breath fogged thickly in the air as he hammered harder, both fists striking the wood.