Den of Blades and Briars: A dark fairy tale romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 7)
Den of Blades and Briars: Chapter 24

Gorm instructed Cuyler to bring us the small table. He unrolled the vellum over the surface. It was a map of a family line. Any ink was faded and worn, the edges were fraying, but the title on the surface was still visible.

Line of Seidr

The names were scattered across an image of the tree of the gods, but this line was strictly connected to the Norns near the roots. It began with a queen they called Alfhild.

“I’ve seen this before,” I said, touching the names on the tree.

“I would hope so,” said Gorm. “It is your family line.” He pointed to Alfhild. “The goddess queen. There are many who believe she is a myth, but poems say she breathed life into half the magicks of the realms, a queen of body and earth. But her consort—” he pointed to the male name at the side. “Ebbe, brought language to the magicks, songs and tales that could spin fate. Together their bloodline formed seidr. Fate’s magic.”

I followed the line to their fifty children. All named. Impossible to remember each one. But Gorm wanted me to take note of the line in which this map was focused. Three generations down was another queen.

“Krasmira.” A sting gathered behind my eyes, and I smiled. “My mother.”

Gorm pointed to her king and husband. There was a black strike through his name. “Your brother’s father, do you recall he was killed in battle?”

I nodded. “Daj and Riot always honored him and our mother with a toast at Jul fete every turn.”

“Riot of House Ode was the heir to seidr, or the heir to true fate magic. A high king.”

Sofia shifted in her seat. My heart skipped, and I pressed a hand over the rune, almost imagining it was his hand.

“I admit I’ve forgotten his glamour,” I said. “I thought I’d been cursed through spells or a rite of some kind, but—” I looked at Gorm. “That isn’t true, is it? Riot worked with fate.”

Gorm’s eyes darkened. “Krasmira’s son was born of the serpent court through his mother and father’s line, but with the gift of writing heart songs, he was the truest fate king since the godly royals.”

“Heart songs?”

Cuyler smiled softly. “Some users of seidr twist fate through writing. Others sang the language of fate to guide a heart down a path. Imagine it: a battle that cannot be won, to sing a song that causes the hearts to soften could bring the end of bloodshed. Or perhaps by darker means—he could sing a heart into such despair it gave up. It was a powerful gift.”

Had Riot given my heart a new path to emptiness?

I thought of the girl who’d aided the cursed king of the North. She had written him free of his curse. I knew this sort of folk still lived and breathed. I didn’t ask, too focused on Gorm’s painted black fingernails trailing down the Ode line. Until it changed. He pointed at a new male name next to my mother.

“Tyr of House Revna. A powerful blood fae.”

My fingertips touched his name, nodding. I didn’t need him to tell me of my father, but I enjoyed hearing it all the same.

“Tyr served as the late king’s guard, his shape shifter spy.” Gorm paused. “The raven line was the most respected, for they were said to be the descendants from either Huginn or Muninn, the gods’ ravens. There are many shape shifters in our isles: water horses, wolvyn, swan maidens, but only one line held the power of the raven.”

“Tyr is my father,” I said to no one in particular.

“I do not know who else he would be since you are of House Revna,” said Gorm.

I almost laughed. The blood lord was amusing with his way of taking words literal and his bouts of frustration that the rest of us could not see so straightforward.

“What do you recall of him?” Cuyler asked. He seemed genuinely curious. Like the histories he’d studied all his life were at last coming to pass.

“My father looked after Riot when his father died,” I said. “He guarded my mother, but eventually, they fell in love and took vows.”

“And bore one child,” Gorm added with a knowing look my way. “A daughter of both blood and forest fae, with the power of her father, but also a vein of seidr from her mother.”

“I do not have any gift of fate,” I said.

“You do. Clearly, it has been concealed from you, but you do.”

“How? I don’t recall any of it.”

“Because your brother did not wish you to. There were those who would take it for themselves, they would use the power of the isle for greed and hatred.” Gorm shifted on his seat, uneasy. “Your brother had the language of changing the fate of men, but you had the language of the isles, of this land. The claim is still yours.”

“No. We lost the throne—”

“You did not,” Gorm interrupted. “At least, not how you think. As I said, the rage, the darkness spreading now, is history repeating itself. An enemy infiltrated your brother’s court. You were the caretaker of the isles, My Lady. And the enemy wished to take your power.”

I dug my hands through my hair. “Lord Gorm, I do not have glamour of the land. I shape shift, nothing more.”

“Untrue. The way songs and voice were your brother’s medium for his seidr, a blood feather was yours.”

Sofia leaned onto her knees, keen to listen. Truth be told, I wanted to flee. A new pressure gathered on my chest as if Gorm’s words were unlocking a new, painful truth I didn’t want to face.

I wanted to be free. Not bound to a tyrannical former queen, not a voice in the shadows, and certainly not a crown.

Ari, for once, was not part of the list. In truth, one of my first thoughts was to flee to his longhouse, to the oversized loft he’d provided me, with enough coverlets, enough furs, enough food, and forget any of this ever happened.

I wanted to flee to him.

Gorm rolled the vellum and leveled me in a stare. “The blood feather was hidden.”

“I don’t know what a blood feather is.”

“A source of power. I do not know what it looks like, I do not know how it connects to you, I only know it exists. It was your power, and your claim to this land. With it, My Lady, curses would be broken. You would once again speak to this land, tame it, rule it.”

“It breaks curses. As in, such a thing might heal the plague spreading by the Court of Hearts?”

“I cannot say for certain, but it would be a weapon to fight back. I think it would give you a shield against dark glamour. Your folk had the gift of languages. There is a true way of speaking to the magic in this land, and it once belonged to you.”

“You must replace it,” Sofia said.

Blood grew heavy in my veins. I’d need to reveal secrets, and I did not know how. My palms covered my ears. “Why do I recall so little?”

“Fate is fickle,” Bjorn said. “I suspect your brother created your curse to be this way with intention. With every force there is opposition. No doubt the more you know, the stronger your enemies will grow.”

I did not know who was the greater enemy, Astrid or the spreading darkness.

“There is a great deal required to gain a powerful relic like a blood feather,” Gorm said. “Hearts must be aligned, and you would not be able to make the journey alone.”

“But I believed the history so differently. I recall wars between royal clans, I did not recall this . . . this feather. In truth, I only started to recall many details of my life after Ari—” I cut off my words and covered my mouth.

“So, this awakening was caused by Ari.” Sofia grinned. “I thought so.”

Cuyler did not seem as thrilled as the overly romantic huldra. “Your traveling companion?”

“I don’t wish to speak on it.” By the hells, I wanted to fade into nothing but mist. My breaths would not slow; my heart would not stop racing.

Bjorn gripped Gorm’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

Gorm rose and strode to a wooden box by the side of the bed. “If you need more proof fate is guiding you, or why your star seer would send you here, this might provide it. A blood feather hidden by powers of fate cannot be found if the true heir does not replace the fated path.”

The blood lord unlatched the brass clasp and revealed a polished wooden ring. Gold lined the edges, and it had been carved like an intricate braid. White lines were etched into the smooth surface in the same unique combination of runes inked into my arm.

My brother’s crest.

“Lady Saga,” Bjorn said. “You see the similarities to this mark and that on your arm. Do you not? It cannot be coincidence.”

“What is the ring?” I whispered.

“All I know is it belongs to the blood heir of the isles and was entrusted to the Court of Blood, a court of your blood, to protect until it could be returned.”

“If royals mattered so much to the Norns, why have all these supposed bloodlines never known the truth?” I thought of Ari’s queen and king. I’d heard the tale of the Ferus curse from Bracken many times. They were cursed to not know their names. Then, in the East, the new shadow queen, she did not know her royal blood.

Why was I shielded from this supposed power I once claimed? And if Riot was the one who planned this, what was I supposed to do to get it back?

“Your line brought the first division of magicks,” Gorm said. “There are tales that speak of such great corruption during your brother’s rule that the Norns hid their gifts across the realms, leaving their fated bloodlines to replace their way back. At times, a fated journey forces us to pass through fire before we are refined and polished like a blade in a forge, ready to greet our purpose with knowledge we would not have otherwise.”

My heart choked in the back of my throat. A sting came to my eyes. Trials, pain, heartache. I was a prisoner, but I’d learned resilience. Perhaps there was purpose in the pain.

I stared at the ring. It looked like it was meant for vows. Most folk in the isles traded rings during their ceremonies.

“What am I to do with this?”

“It cannot be touched by anyone but the heir.”

I studied him cautiously, then began to lift my hand. Gorm stopped me. “There is a power over it, Lady. Answer truly or it could harm you—this path may only be taken if your heart has been awakened.”

“It has.”

“But an awakener is called such since they are one who is worthy to hold your heart,” Gorm said. “To step out on this path, your heart must also be open to love.”

Love? No one said anything about love. If Ari was this great awakener, I certainly didn’t love him. I didn’t even trust him.

I closed my eyes. That wasn’t true, and I knew it.

When I woke, my first thought after realizing he was not beside me was how I would get to him. I thought of Ari too much. In angst, in affection, in irritation, and amusement. I did not know if I knew what love was anymore, but when I did not try to hate him, there were moments when I would not mind if Ari dug a little deeper into my heart.

I said nothing, but Gorm grinned, his fangs showing fully. “I see. The choice is yours, Lady Saga. Take the step onto your path, or do not.”

I held my breath and scooped the ring from the box. A pleasant hum of heat wrapped around my palm, but nothing terribly remarkable. Still, Gorm smiled like I’d made him the High King.

“All you must do to replace your path, is retrieve the other.”

I balked. “There is another one?”

I planned to slap my brother whenever I met him in the great hall of the gods. Could he not make all this a little simpler?

“Of course. You are of two courts.” Gorm looked at me like I’d spoken nonsense.

Cuyler chuckled and thankfully took over. “The other piece was bequeathed to the damn fools—take no offense—of the Court of Serpents.”

My lips parted. “The second piece of this is in the hands of Lord Hawthorne?”

All at once, Eryka’s missive made a great deal of sense.

I needed to seek the truth behind the mark of love. My rune. Answers were found here, in a house of blood. And the match would be found with serpents. Hawthorne and Yarrow were known for their clever tricks—their silver tongues.

The last line, not all is as it seems. What more awaited that was not as it seemed?

Gorm snorted. “I assure you the second half was not as well looked after. Doubtless his breeding queen wears it every night.”

“Father.” Cuyler tried to hide his grin. “Don’t call her the breeding queen. If Mother had not died, you would have had more littles than the forest fae.”

“Only because your mother was stunning, and I never wanted to leave our bed.” Gorm smirked at his son. “Not because I like looking at you that much, boy.”

I smiled in earnest. All this time I’d fretted over facing the Court of Blood, but they had done nothing but open their gates. Terrifying as the story was, Gorm’s conjectures to my past fit in empty places. The same as the tale at the tavern struck me.

My stomach sank. “I must ask you something. I have a memory of a woman, and I believe she was my brother’s wife. Is this true?”

Gorm nodded and unrolled the vellum again. He pointed to a symbol of love. “No name, but this leads us to believe he was vowed.”

I tangled my fingers together. “Do you know if I was vowed?”

Gorm shook his head. “It does not say.”

A shudder danced down my arms. Sofia tilted her head, watching me with a new curiosity. I forced a smile, blocking out the whispers of screams, the pain from a faceless monster in my head. “I don’t believe I was.”

“Your awakener should be rousing soon,” Gorm said.

I closed my eyes. “I beg of you, please tell him nothing of this conversation. He does not know I am a shape shifter. We are . . . we’re not friendly.”

Gorm arched a brow. “I replace that odd.”

“Why?”

“Because you allowed your heart to be awakened by him, whether you knew it or not, you had to be open. He is the awakener which means he is open to you. How would you not be friendly?” Gorm said nothing more, simply allowed such a statement to dangle in the air and left.

Bjorn gently handed me the ring box, then followed his lord.

“I’ll see to it our seamstress is ready with gowns for you. She always has them lying around for the courtiers,” Cuyler said, tipping his chin.

“Wait, Cuyler,” I said. “Why, if you are so welcoming to the High King, did your folk stand with the former queen in the battle of the East?”

“We did not stand with her. We stood with you.”

“Me? You did not know me.”

“No, but we have all sensed the raven line in recent turns,” Cuyler said. “I suspect the feeling came after your heart awakened. Astrid might have taken advantage of some of our folk with her tricky spells, but most blood fae stood on the side where we felt our true queen.”

A rush of guilt filled my belly. If I’d not been compelled to serve Astrid, the blood fae would have stood beside Bracken. They might not be so feared.

Alone, Sofia took my hand. “Shall we?”

“You won’t say anything?”

“I swear it. There is too much at stake to interfere in your fated journey now, Saga. Follow the tasks.” She pointed to the ring. “Do what must be done, then I am confident everything will be repaired.”

I didn’t know what she meant by everything, but I did not share her confidence. Nothing was as it ought to have been. A man who hated me had awakened my heart. I was an orphaned royal, and I had a dark voice in the shadows that I knew was somehow desperate to replace me.

There were too many cracks to ever repair.