Poppy’s POV
“It’s not like any Myrkr magic I’ve ever seen,” the deeply-toned shaman said. He pressed his fingertips gingerly along the veins on my neck. Dark eyes stared at me with fascination. “I’ve only seen magic like this around the human territories. It’s almost like it’s glamoured to LOOK like ours.”
Percy and the palace seer, Alice, stood nearby, listening closely. I lay on a buckskin upholstered table with furs draped over my legs, one of Eirikur’s thick wool coats around my shoulders. I fell asleep on the horse ride to Myrkr and silently cursed myself for it.
I wanted to see Erik’s homeland. Instead, I was pressed against his chest while he guided the horse into his village. His smell and his coat cocooned me in warmth and I couldn’t help it when it lulled me to sleep.