Heidel walked with an air of confidence. She pulled her knife free once again and held it casually at her side. As we approached the town square, clouds gathered overhead, making the air grow chilly as night replaced dusk. Heidel pointed out a building that was larger than the others and rose not far from the town’s square. A wooden sign with copper lettering read Sailor’s Reprieve Inn and Brewery.
“We’re staying here. If I were you, I would keep to myself. I can’t say that everyone is eager to welcome you.”
“What do you mean?”
As we stopped outside the inn’s broad doorway, she shrugged, offering no further explanation. Then, Heidel pushed the door open, and we entered the building.
The air was thick with smoke, and the sound of raucous conversation made it difficult to concentrate on anything but the large group of people sitting near the room’s center. I recognized most of them as Wults, though they dressed differently from the Wults of the main tribe. These Wults wore white animal skins and sheepskin cloaks, and for the most part, their hair and eyes were lighter than those found in the main tribe. They smoked thin, curved pipes that gave the room a yellowish haze, and the smoke seemed to cling to everything—the wood-planked floor stained with years of smut; the tables cluttered with crusts of bread and half-filled tankards; the two fireplaces on either end of the room; even the antler candelabrums hanging overhead were dimmed by the thick cloud of smoke.
I closed the door behind me and followed Heidel into the room, anxiously hoping to spy Kull in the crowd, but as I scanned the room, I saw no sign of him.
“The Wults of the Northland tribe have agreed to go on this fool’s quest with us,” Heidel said. “I have no idea why, except that my father personally invited them.”
“Why would your father do that?” As far as I knew, the Wult tribes didn’t get along well.
“He wishes to form an alliance. His marriage to my mother was supposed to quell the fighting, but his kinsmen resented his choice, and so the quarrel has continued for many years.”
“Was your mother from the Northland tribe?”
“No. My father is a Northlander.”
I guess it made sense. King Herrick’s light hair and eyes were characteristic of the Northlanders, but how did King Herrick plan to strengthen their alliance with the other tribe?
A woman broke free from the gathered Wults and made her way toward us. She stood a head taller than me, and her penetrating blue eyes gave her an air of authority. Her lean, muscled frame was made feminine by the golden-weaved girdle she wore around her slim waist. Light, loosely curled hair cascaded down her back, interspersed with several small braids.
“Olive,” Heidel said, “I’d like you to meet Lady Kethildr of the Northland tribe.”
“Call me Ket,” the woman said.
She spoke with a commanding voice that was softened by her gentle smile, and when she offered me her hand, I shook it.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Ket said. “Tales of your bravery have made it all the way to our tiny fort in the barren waste of the Northlands. Which, given our remote location, is an unusually difficult feat, I assure you.”
“I’m certain the tales are exaggerated,” I said.
“Well, that is likely, considering our storytellers are prone to exaggeration. Yet you defeated the Dreamthief, did you not?”
“Yes, I defeated the Dreamthief, but I had help. I couldn’t have done it without my friends.”
“Then I am pleased to be your ally. I will feel safer with you by my side.”
“Thank you,” I answered, though I hoped she didn’t put too much faith in my abilities.
Ket turned away and joined her companions.
Heidel eyed me. “She pays you a great compliment. I pray you can live up to it.”
“Yeah, you and me both.”
Heidel led me to a steep staircase at the back of the room. Torches set in sconces lined the walls, and as we ascended, they cast flickers of light over the thick wooden banister and illuminated the animal hides covering the log-planked walls. The heat from the two fireplaces became suffocating the higher we went.
When we reached a landing at the top, we followed it to a narrow hallway. The conversations from downstairs became muffled; though, as we neared the hall’s end, I heard shouts of another sort. Heidel paused by a set of broad doors. The shouting intensified.
I glanced at Heidel.
“My brother and father wait inside,” she said.
My heart sped up as she opened the doors. It felt like it had been so long since I’d seen Kull.
Inside the room, Kull and his father stood at arm’s length from one another, both with clenched fists. Chairs and tables lay haphazardly on the floor. A fire roared from the room’s only fireplace, radiating heat over both of their reddened faces.
When I stepped into the room, Kull’s eyes locked with mine.
“Olive.”
Kull said my name quietly, and it seemed as if all of his anger vanished as he said it. He crossed the room and grabbed me in a tight hug, lifting my feet off the ground as he breathed into my ear.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
He smelled the way I remembered him, of sandalwood and spruce. I fought back the lump in my throat.
