The Usurper's Crown by Sarah Zettel Read Free Book Online

that’s what I’ll do.”
    For a moment, Ingrid thought to squeeze his hand in gratitude. But no, she knew how he would take that, and he would take wrongly. “It will. Thank you, Everett.”
    Everett nodded, put his cap back on his dark head and stepped away across the yard. He was too late to catch the boats going out. He had lost himself today’s work to come here to her.
    Why do I not love him? Ingrid closed her eyes, and there in her private darkness, she saw Avan in the firelight, and she saw his long, graceful hands. Swiftly, she opened her eyes again, and went upstairs to Grace.
    Grace lay still as a corpse under the faded quilts, her unbound hair spread out on the pillow showing the snarls the night wind had teased in it. Her eyes were open, but Ingrid had no idea what she saw.
    Ingrid sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the comb that lay on the chest. Slowly, gently, she began to run it through her sister’s hair, singing softly.
    “Hushaby, don’t you cry .
    Go to sleepy, little baby .
    When you wake, you shall have
    All the pretty little horses.”
    “Ingrid?” Grace’s voice was little more than a whisper.
    “Yes, Grace. I’m here.”
    “I didn’t mean to … I was under the water. It was so heavy, I was so tired. I was afraid I would drown. My lungs were freezing. He held me. He told me he would keep me safe. I cried to go home. He said I could, but that I must promise to come back. He was so lonely. I promised.” She paused, and her chest heaved in a silent sob. “I don’t want to go, Ingrid.”
    “You will not go.” Ingrid gently teased out one more snarl. “I promise.”
    “He calls me. He calls me by my promise and he is never quiet. I didn’t know before, but I do now, and he calls …”
    Ingrid gripped her sister’s shoulder. “Do not listen to him, Grace. He had no right to bind you so. You must not listen.”
    “So cold.” Ingrid bit her lip to hear how much her sister sounded like the ghost.
    Ingrid wrapped her arms around Grace and held her close, rocking gently back and forth. “He will not have you, sister. I swear by God in Heaven he will not have you.”
    Avanasy watched Ingrid Loftfield fall into step with her family, her back straight, and her hands gathering up her hems to keep them out of the way of her long, swinging stride. Her auburn hair had come loose during her night’s adventures, and fell in dark curls down the back of her neck.
    “Well, well, the one that got away, eh?” A hand slapped him hard on the shoulder. He turned his eyes from Ingrid to see Roman Thorfeld, a bony, blue-eyed man grinning at him, showing all his tobacco-stained teeth. Avanasy cursed himself for staring too long.
    “I was just thinkin’ about her poor sister,” he said mildly, falling into the lower speech the fishermen favored. “Gone right out of her head I figger.”
    “ Ja , ja .” Thorfeld, like a number of the men grown up on the shores of Lake Superior seemed to speak a blend of three or four different languages. He was not a vicious man, just of a coarse upbringing, and now he shook his head heavily. “ ‘S a shame too. They’re good people, the Loftfields. ‘S a sorry shame.”
    “And we’re doin’ mithin’ ‘tall for ‘em by standin’ here,” announced Elias Ilkka, a squat, dark Finnishman, tough as tarred rope and the nominal leader of the itinerant fisherman who clung to the shore of Sand Island. “Let’s get to it, boys.”
    The men voiced their agreement in their various tongues, and trooped to the docks in a mass. Avanasy stayed with them. It was not what he wanted, but he feared that if he begged off, it would direct more talk at the Loftfields and plenty of that already swirled around him. Every incident, every encounter or interaction, especially involving the unfortunate Grace, was remembered, kicked over, examined, and improved upon. It went on all through the day, even out on the gray waters with the sharp wind pouring over them and all