Land of Fury, page 32
So why now, when we are so close to the Isles of the Lost Winds, do I feel like I might lose the salted cod and tea I barely touched at breakfast?
A shiver ripples over me as a draft passes through the room, despite the furs hanging on the walls to keep it warm. I finger the fur cloak draped across my bed, about to wrap it around me, when I think of Karra back in Windwich—a new wife and mother—and I smile. And Liv will be at the Winterwood Merchants Summit—an annual gathering attracting hundreds of new tradesmen and women from throughout the land, who never dared venture away from their hidden villages when my mother was alive. I will miss seeing Liv and Kaldr at the castle this year. Just as I will have missed the kingdom-wide Festival of Tolerance by the time I return.
I realize suddenly why I’m uneasy, and it’s not entirely seasickness, but the fact that I miss home. I miss steady ground and the crunch of snow beneath my boots. My friends. My sister. Even the castle I once considered a cage, though it’s nothing like that anymore. Winterwood Keep is where Siggy and I have built a future for our people and reshaped a kingdom. It is where I found my strength, and my happiness. Even if our brother isn’t yet a part of it. And that makes my heart ache anew.
Footsteps creak outside the door, and I glance up. “You should come above deck, princess,” Zander says, and the latch lifts.
“In case you haven’t heard, huntsman,” I say with feigned annoyance as he peeks his head inside the cabin, “I have been crowned queen of Norseland—I’m one of two queens, actually.”
Zander nudges the door completely open and leans against the doorframe, smirking. “Is that so? Perhaps you should have my head for such insolence.”
I lift my brow. “Perhaps.”
Zander glances at his side of the bed where the furs are drawn and the bed is made, then he eyes the rumpled side where I’ve been sitting and stewing. “Are you still feeling poorly?” His expression shadows with concern, even if he knows there is little to be done about my weary stomach at this point.
“Actually, today is one of the better days. But . . . I’ve been thinking about Christoffer,” I admit. “If that’s even his name,” I mutter sadly. “I can’t stop wondering where he is and what he is doing right now, only a citizen, living in I have no idea what conditions, when he should be helping Siggy and I rule a kingdom.” I hold Zander’s gaze. “It feels wrong to carry on when he is still out there, somewhere.”
“We have not given up,” Zander promises. “The men are still looking.” He sits on the furs beside me and tucks a red curl behind my ear. I close my eyes at the endearment, basking in the heat of him beside me.
“Reider and Dane will not stop until they know more,” Zander continues. “And as soon as we return, I will continue to help them. We will find your brother, for better or worse.”
Dead or alive, Zander means, but he’s kind enough not to say it aloud.
I nod with an acquiescent sigh, because there is little else for me to do, and nothing to say I haven’t already spoken.
“Thora,” Zander says more gently, his eyes glowing like glacial pools in the candlelight. “I know you feel it is your duty as Christoffer’s sister to find him and bring him home. But you have duties as queen that must be prioritized as well. You have been waiting two years to see the island colonies. Don’t let what you cannot control ruin this moment.”
I nod, knowing Zander is right. “I don’t know why I’m feeling his absence so keenly these days.” Because I’m starting to lose hope. I think the words, but I don’t say them—I don’t dare.
Zander sees the helplessness in my eyes. “Come,” he says, standing. He offers me his hand. “Killian says we’re close.”
A flock of tiny blackbirds takes flight in my stomach, and I can’t help a grin. “Really? Finally?”
I clasp Zander’s hand and rise to my feet, bracing my leg against the bed to keep myself steady.
“That is why the weather has been so bad as of late,” Zander explains, draping my cloak around my shoulders. “Killian said the weather worsens in this part of the ocean.”
I pull my hair out from under the fur of my collar, and turn to face him. “Making it the perfect place for a hidden safe haven,” I muse, and I can’t help the growing wonder in my voice. I’m about to see the place I once planned to escape to.
Zander takes two steps to the door, squeezing my hand in his as I follow. “Brace yourself, princess,” he says. “It’s about to get windy.”
I chuckle, as if I need the reminder.
Zander winks at me before we’re consumed in shadows, him leading me through the narrow corridor, past Gunhild’s cabin, then Norik’s, until we step out onto the upper deck. Immediately, the cold wind assails me.
Closing my eyes, I inhale as deeply as I can, letting it calm my nerves. The sails snap above us. The ship creaks as it teeters over waves. And the crew calls to one another like a well-rehearsed song as they prepare to anchor.
When I open my eyes again, it’s to a choppy sea of deep green, to seabirds cawing as they circle in the gray sky above, and to the outline of mountains through the fog in the distance.
“The island,” I breathe, following Zander to the bow of the ship.
My heart flutters with anticipation. “When we were younger,” I start, grabbing hold of the ship’s ledge. “You told me a story about the perils of the North Sea—about the angry gods who punished any fisherman who dared to leave Norseland.” I glance at him. “Do you remember, huntsman?”
There’s a slight twitch of his cheek. “I do.”
“And were those stories simply to scare a child princess? Or was there any truth to them?”
“I admit,” Zander says, his shoulder brushing mine as he turns his head slightly to look at me. “I enjoyed seeing the awe in your expression—the curiosity and wonder that drew me to you. But they were stories I was told as a child, when I wondered aloud why no one ever left Norseland.” Zander is thoughtful for a moment. “I think it was my father’s way of deterring me from getting too curious, or contemplating a life different from the lot we were given.”
“So, you have always been a bit of a revolutionary,” I realize happily.
“A troublemaker, or so my mother would’ve said.” His words are thick with a sad sort of fondness.
The thought of him asking complicated, dangerous questions as a boy, even before his life was torn apart, makes me wish his parents were still alive. But for reasons different than his. I would wish Zander’s parents to know the man he is—a warrior and friend, a partner and visionary they can be proud of. And Brynn too.
As always, the tangling of our life stories baffles me in the best possible way. Whether the credit is due to Zander’s pagan gods or my Christian one, our interwoven lives are nothing short of a miracle.
“Who would’ve thought,” Killian says, coming up behind us, “that a queen of Norseland would ever grace the sandy beaches of the hidden settlement?” I glance over my shoulder as he strides closer, his hands on his hips and his dark hair whipping in the wind and catching on his stubbled cheek.
“And by invitation, no less,” Brynn adds, though her voice is nearly lost to the sound of the sea as she climbs the steps to the upper deck. A flummoxed smile crosses my lips as Brynn offloads a coiled rope from her arms with a huff.
She walks toward us, smiling at me impishly. The mischievous glint in her eyes is so similar to her brother’s, I can’t help but reach for his hand, gripping it in mine.
When I look at Zander, he’s already gazing down at me with warmth and pride and love shining in his eyes, and he squeezes my hand back.
Brynn gazes at the horizon with a sigh—at the island taking full form in front of us. “The sight of it never grows old,” she murmurs. She gathers her braids over one shoulder, taming them in the wind, and her chest rises and falls with another deep breath.
Killian leans over and kisses the top of her head.
“Which settlement will we visit first?” I ask, because now there are two of them.
“Only Ethos for now, where the majority of settlers live. The wooded isle to the east has yet to be named, and they’ve only just started to build.”
“And how many northerners are there now?” Zander asks.
“And how many from New London?” I add.
Brynn smirks again, but this time it’s with pride. “There are nearly ninety settlers,” she says, practically beaming. “Nearly half of them are from Norseland.”
“And the other regions?” Zander asks, his gaze shifting between our hosts. “You mentioned visiting the Old Lands and the Americas in the past.”
“There are some settlers from the Americas,” Killian says with a shrug. “But life is much different there than on our side of the world. In the Americas, their civilizations are separated by erratic and unlivable terrain. There are no queens and empires. And the Old Lands, well, it has been many years since I’ve returned to their shores.”
A collective anticipation settles over the four of us as we fall into a companionable silence—or perhaps it’s awe—as the sails lower behind us, the ship slows, and I realize this is it. We have weathered the sea and storms and, finally, we have arrived.
“What’s everyone staring at?” Gunhild says, marching over to us. Her blonde braids are windblown, her cheeks and nose red from being out in the cold, and she braces her hands on the railing beside Zander.
“We’re looking at the future,” I whisper, in awe of the possibilities I know will one day be a reality with all of us working together.
“One day,” Zander says, his voice low in my ear. His breath caresses the side of my cheek, its warmth sending chills over me. “One day your family will know this place too,” he promises. Whether he means my sister and brother, if he is still alive, or our children to come, I’m uncertain, but the relief I feel, knowing that this is only the beginning of our lives together—Zander and me, as well as our friends—makes my eyes cloud with tears and my chest swell with hope.
“One day,” I echo, and leaning in, I kiss Zander’s lips as the rocky cliffs of Ethos draw closer, and the free men and women crowd the beach to welcome us.
THE END
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OTHER BOOKS BY LINDSEY
FORGOTTEN LANDS WORLD
(Stand-alones, suggested reading order)
RUINED LANDS
City of Ruin
Sea of Storms
Land of Fury
FORGOTTEN LANDS
Dust and Shadow
Borne of Sand and Scorn Prequel Novella
Earth and Ember
Tide and Tempest
THE ENDING WORLD
SAVAGE NORTH CHRONICLES
(Reading order)
The Darkest Winter
The Longest Night
Midnight Sun
Fading Shadows
Untamed
Unbroken
Day Zero: Beginnings
THE ENDING SERIES
After The Ending
Into The Fire
Out Of The Ashes
Before The Dawn
The Ending Beginnings
World Before
THE ENDING LEGACY
World After
The Raven Queen
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ABOUT LINDSEY POGUE
Lindsey Pogue is a genre-bending fiction author, best known for her soul-stirring survival adventures and timeless love stories. As an avid romance reader with a master’s in history and culture, Lindsey’s series cross genres and push boundaries, weaving together facts, fantasy, and romance set in rich, sweeping landscapes of epic proportions. When she’s not chatting with readers, plotting her next storyline, or dreaming up new, brooding characters, Lindsey’s generally wrapped in blankets watching her favorite action flicks with her own leading man. They live in Northern California with their rescue cats, Beast and little Blue.
www.lindseypogue.com
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