“Alright,” said Tarak. “Let’s tow it all back, then.”
I thought maybe I’d get left in the boat to be towed, but it turned out only the lump of Koltar remained there. Bracka returned to their vessel, and Tarak lifted me into their boat, too. They began to steer towards shore and the great house. Their boat seemed a little slower, a little louder, than the one from Callabarra, as if their tech was less advanced.
It was strong enough to make decent speed, though, even while pulling along the other boat. Soon, Bracka was mooring both vessels at a wooden dock while Tarak dragged me out viciously by the arm.
“Let’s go. Do not keep our Prince waiting.”
I bowed my head and kept my mouth shut for now, trying to keep my wits about me as I let Tarak haul me along by the wrist. He and Bracka both wore some kind of leather trousers, studded with metal, huge blades strapped to their hips. Thin metal chains were draped over their chests and woven into the hair they wore long and braided the way Skalla did. Bracka hoisted Koltar’s limp body and pulled up the rear, which meant I was basically sandwiched between the two hostile warriors. My bare feet padded over the wood of the dock, then the sandy shore, then up a path through the grass and reeds to the house. The stars and moons no longer cast down their silvery veils, having retreated behind clouds as if they couldn’t bear to watch what was about to happen to me. Ahead, the house provided the only light.
For a disorienting moment, it reminded me of the temple at Callabarra, because it had similar white cotton curtains hanging to act as a wispy barrier between the outside and the inside. But the temple was always peaceful, lush with quiet. The air here was discordant with alien shouting and booming laughter.
I hoped the laughter was a good sign. It sounded like there was a feast going on, or some kind of party. Maybe everyone would be in good enough spirits not to want to hurt me, at least for a little while...
And by then Skalla would come.
Tarak shoved the curtains aside and pulled me in. I squinted against the light. It wasn’t all that bright in here, but it was certainly brighter than outside, and it took me a second to adjust.
“Prince Joleb,” Bracka said as I squinted and blinked. “We have the god-mate and the spy.”
By the time my eyes had adjusted and I could open them fully, I found myself staring at the brawny chest of the largest pure-blood Bohnebregg male I’d ever seen. He was almost as big as Skalla, towering and broad-shouldered, his scales gleaming in shades of dull green and bright copper.
Wait, no.
Those weren’t scales. Much like Jolakaia with her single metal stud, Joleb appeared to have done the same thing to himself but with a much larger design. Scales all along his chest had been ripped out and replaced with metal studs. The glints of metal continued along his throat, leading my gaze up to a face that made me gasp and get dizzy all at once.
It was the face of a Bohnebregg male I’d never seen before. And for a horribly confusing moment, I thought it was Skalla’s. Because his eye was so much like my mate’s, golden and piercing.
And because he only had the one. Like my mate, somewhere in the thorny path of his past, he’d lost the other. But where Skalla had an unadorned knot of scar tissue, Joleb had instead shoved a perfectly smooth metal marble in the empty socket. Similar to a glass eye, but without any effort to actually make it look like an eye besides the spherical shape. His hair was long and black and braided, his snout so achingly familiar I had to hold myself back from reaching out and touching it.
“So, you are the god-mate,” Joleb said, his voice powerful and deep. “Fated bride of my ancient kin, Skallagrim, who apparently has returned to this world. Or so that one tells us.” He jerked his snout at Koltar’s unconscious form. “Is it so?”
I shook in silence, not knowing what to say, or if I should even speak at all. If I confirmed who I was, would he kill me instantly? If I kept him waiting, would he kill me instead for my insolence?
“Perhaps it does not understand our language. It doesn’t even have a snout!” said a voice from somewhere behind the Prince, and for the first time I became aware of more people – many more – warriors standing and lounging and sitting at benches throughout what seemed to be a feast hall. But no matter where they were in the room or what they were doing, they all had blades at their belts and their eyes fixed on me.
“Hmm,” Joleb growled thoughtfully. His eye narrowed. “Don’t look down.”
I only barely stopped myself from looking down. But I did react – a stuttering sort of blink that gave me away.
“She understands,” Joleb said.
Paska. He’s clever. I’d have to be very careful. But he hadn’t killed me yet and I was hoping that things might still work out in my favour. That I could stretch this out a little longer.
Please, Skalla, get here soon!
I thought of him, maybe fighting human forces right this very moment, trying to free my friends, but didn’t let myself despair. Not yet.
“You know my words,” Joleb said, dragging me back to the present. “Now answer them.” In a flash, his claws were wrapped around my throat, squeezing. There was silken malice in his voice when he leaned in and muttered, “Answer me before I rip your tongue out and you never speak again.”
He released me without warning, leaving me to stumble and choke, grasping at my neck.
“I am... Skallagrim’s,” I said, fighting through panic for Bohnebregg words to use.
“And where is your mate now?”
“He is...”
Fuck. What should I tell him? Should I lie?
I settled on mumbling, “He is not here.”
That earned me a vicious backhand across the face, so forceful it made lights dance in my eyes as I twisted and fell painfully onto my hands and knees. My head buzzed, the right side of my face feeling like it had been stung by a thousand angry bees. When I swallowed, I tasted blood.
“Do not take me for a fool, female. You think I do not see that your mate is not here? I did not ask you where he is not.” He crouched down then grabbed me by the hair, pulling me up so I was forced to look at him. “I asked you where he is.”
Koltar chose that moment to rouse himself slightly. He groaned from where he’d been dumped on the floor. As much as I hated the Honoured Eye, I was grateful to him then because he’d distracted Joleb. The Prince released my hair, letting me sink back down to the ground.
But Joleb wasn’t done with me yet. Because even though he’d stalked over to Koltar, it was me he addressed.
“Who is he?”
“He is... A man. I do not know. He took me.”
It was hard to talk. My lips felt like they’d already ballooned to twice their natural size, making my normally terrible Bohnebregg accent even worse. Joleb glowered down at Koltar, and he looked so much like Skalla I thought I might throw up. Even the studs of metal between his scales reminded me of the lights that glowed on my mate. Joleb had no wings, of course, but otherwise the resemblance was uncanny in the extreme. It was like I was glimpsing some kind of alternate universe version of the man I loved.
Or like I was seeing who he might have been if he had never found me.
“Put him over there until he wakes fully,” Joleb said, speaking to no one in particular, though several men jumped to obey his order, putting Koltar behind a bench in the corner.
Koltar apparently decided he’d made enough noise for now and lay still, which was just fucking dandy, because now Joleb was focused entirely on me again.
“They say,” he said slowly, like he was savouring each word, “that if you kill a stone sky god’s mate, you kill him, too.”