“You can go then,” she said. “Go on, bugger off like a coward. I’m staying. There has to be a way to get him out of there.” She turned her back on him, and Holden saw what it was that darkened her face—fear. She’d never say it, never acknowledge it, but it was there. Not fear for herself but fear for Van. All her bright, cutting words couldn’t cover that.
Skrymir wouldn’t let her go so easily though. One fist grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back, shoved her down to sit on a barrel. She made to get up again, but the hand held her, pressed her down.
“You’re staying on this ship. I’ve broken oath for you, Josie, because I couldn’t be a part of what the mages did to you, to you and Van both. I made an oath to you. I haven’t got so many souls as I can afford to break that one too. So you’re staying on this ship, if I have to clap you in irons to do it, because that’s what Van wants. That’s why he chose to take the bond. He chose that, so that you wouldn’t have that pain again.”
Josie’s mouth dropped open, and Holden took a step forward. “He took it, willing? How do you know?”
Skrymir didn’t take his gaze off Josie, as though he thought she’d try to escape if he didn’t watch close. “Rillen wasn’t as quiet as he thought. He gave Van the choice as to who got bonded—you or him. Van chose this. He knew what he was getting into, took the bond as long as Rillen promised to let you go. And after, in the strong room—he wanted me to keep you safe, I know it. I’m going to do that to the best of my ability, on my oath to Oku, on my soul, because that’s what he wanted. It’s what he always wanted but you’re too stubborn to realize it.”
Josie had no answer for that, no answer to the widening gap between them and the jetty, or the fact she couldn’t swim. The ship lurched under them as they caught the current and crew chased along yardarms, pulled on rigging. Skrymir, maybe satisfied Josie was going nowhere, sank down to the deck and got someone to fetch the healer.
Holden watched Tallia at the rail, at the way she shook her head over Josie, exasperated perhaps. Sisters. How could they be sisters? He leaned on the rail next to her, lost in himself, lost to everything he thought he could rely on. No bond, no Van, no Ilsa… Everything seemed to swirl around him.
“Is there any chance someone could tell me what is going on?” he asked. “Properly, without any sidling about it?”
It wasn’t Tallia who answered, but Josie. She looked up, and he noticed the scratches on her face, red welts as though someone had clawed her. “Ilsa. She wanted to hurt me, worst way she could. That’s what she said—worst way she could. Because of what I did to her, what we did to her. That’s what started it, anyway. Without me and Van, you’d still be bonded, you’d still be hers. Without Van you’d never have seen me again, and without me… You had a wife, Holden. A wife! And yet that didn’t stop you, did it? Didn’t even make you think twice when I offered myself to you if you’d stop chasing Van. Hurt me the worst way, that’s what she wanted. To kill Van, and even better if he thought it was because I betrayed him. At least he knows I didn’t. That’s all I’ve got. He’s bonded, because of me. They’re going to nail him to that fucking wall, and I’m out here and not in there and—”
She broke off, her face pinched and pale and Holden thought how lost she looked, how she wasn’t Joshing Josie now, who fought and bit and scratched to the end, How she couldn’t be that Josie, not without Van.
“Tallia thinks it’s Van’s fault, she always did. But it wasn’t. It was you and me, Holden. You and me. Skrymir and Van think I wanted him to prove himself, but that wasn’t it. Not what all this was about. Tallia thinks I should hate him, but how can I, when it’s me I can’t forgive? That’s what I wanted. Him to forgive me, so that I could stop playing the game. I hate it, the games, but it’s all