The Hunger of the Gods (The Bloodsworn Saga, #2)

by John Gwynne

For my darling Harriett, surely there can be no more tears left in all the world, for we have wept them all over you.

“Thinking that I was saving the world from Ilska’s madness, thinking that I was saving people like you from a life of slavery, torture and death.” She looked Elvar in the eye. “And then you captured us, beat my husband to his knees, put a collar around his neck and sold him to the highest bidder. And treated me and my son as thralls, as cattle to be bartered. Or slaughtered.”

“But it doesn’t have to be this way,” Uspa said. “If more made that choice, in their head and hearts, to live a peaceful life with those they love and value, and just allow others to do the same.”

She waved a hand in the air, dismissing the stupidity of humankind.

It was as if the grief were an ocean within her, swirling beneath a layer of ice, always there, lurking.

A new age has dawned, the wolf-god’s voice howled in her thought-cage. A wolf age, a sword age, and blood will flow in rivers.

“But she must think me weak and pathetic,” Lif said morosely. “If she thinks of you at all,” Orka agreed. Lif blinked at that. “Well, my thanks for the encouragement…” Orka felt the twinge of a smile, which was a rare thing these days.

“Shh, say nothing,” Rotta said, “ignorance is bliss, and often much safer than knowledge. But I would hate for some misfortune to happen to you. There are too few of my kind left in this world as it is.”

“Time to get your husband back,” Elvar said to Uspa, then she was walking down the pier, a Seiðr-witch, a wolf-god and a winged woman at her back. The Battle-Grim fell in behind them.

“I… told him… you would come,” Vol breathed. “I would cross the oceans of the world for you,” he said, stroking her cheek with a slabbed hand. “Only death would stop me.”

“This is no dream, ancient Hrung,” Ulfrir said, and the giant head stared at him with wide eyes. “Though reality is stranger, and far crueller, I fear.”

They held each other as if they were drowning.

“Mama, I knew you’d come, I knew you’d come,” he was saying, over and over through his tears.