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“You are the older one out of the two of us, dear brother. Do not place your shortcomings on me.”

“Ah, yes. Well, at least I can sleep at night without being plagued by thoughts of the fiery pit fighter with deep trust issues and a rage that can rival Hela herself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Herrick grumbled, but his thoughts inevitably turned back to Maude as Hakon brought her up.

“Where is she anyway? I didn't see her when I was inside,” Hakon asked, a little too innocently.

“Not sure, I haven’t seen her.”

“Well,someoneshould make sure she didn’t decide to leave us in the lurch after all the trouble that went into getting her here. We leave tomorrow; we need to make sure she’s still coming.”

Herrick glared at his brother. “Why don't you go find her?”

“I’m far too busy at the moment,” Hakon responded, leaning back on his hands in the tall grass with relaxed shoulders, not a care in the world.

“You’re an ass.”

“I know, but I’m also right. You were the one who said we needed someone with firegalder.”

Herrickhadbeen the one to suggest it. He kept dreaming of red hair and searing flames that he felt it was a sign from the Allfather. Those dreams plagued him, even now. He remembered the one from last night that included the Valkyrie’s, and that feeling of dread spread through him once more.

Maybe it was a mistake to follow dreams sent by the gods, Herrick thought.Perhaps it was meant to be a warning to stay away.

Especially now that he found himself unable to tear his attention away from a particularly grating firevitkiwoman who did nothing but argue with him.

“Fine. If only to get you to stop making inaccurate accusations,” he snapped.

Hakon only laughed softly and lay back in the tall grass, closing his eyes. Herrick stooped to pick up his axe and started to make his way toward the house again when Hakon chimed in again.

“I’d suggest checking the roof.”

Herrick rolled his eyes and cursed himself for getting baited by his brother to find this gods damned woman. He leaned his axe against the door frame, stopping by the wash basin to clean his face and the back of his neck. Rubbing a hand across his jaw, he felt the coarse hair scrape against his hands. He debated shaving again since he found his beard itchy and uncomfortable but ultimately decided that if they were to try to leave the city soon, he would have to be disguised. He rinsed his hands off and aimed for the stairs.

“Why do you insist onher?” Liv spoke from the table, never looking up from her sharpening. She had moved on to her various daggers and knives, all lined up on the table. Where she kept them all on her person, Herrick never wanted to know.

“What do you mean, Liv?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Herrick. She doesn't trust us. She certainly doesn't trust you as far as she can throw you.” She looked up from her work, gray eyes direct and unyielding. “So why her?”

Herrick considered her for a moment. He thought back to when Maude had seemingly been taken hostage in her memories after he had let it slipthat he might have a way to kill Helvig if they could get close enough. That wasn’t faked, and neither were her day-to-day actions, which she thought no one noticed.

“I guess I see the kindness she tries to hide, and I see a person who has had a hard life. I think she will help us. If not for our sake, then for hers.”

And there it was. His gamble that she would help them for her own selfish gain. Liv didn’t bother to voice it, either. Herrick knew what she thought from the look on her face, so he turned to go up the stairs.

He didn’t tell Liv that those moments between him and Maude in the abandoned fighting pits had shown Herrick a side of her that she kept so far down inside herself that she had surely forgotten its existence. And in the darkness of the passageway, when they had shared rapid breaths, and fire had erupted on his skin at her touch… She had been genuine.

Herrick made it to the roof and turned the corner to find a small tent made from old clothes. He crouched down to find Maude asleep on her right side, using her arm as a pillow. She wore only a band of cloth tied around her chest and loose pants which sat on her hips. Black hair had fallen over her shoulder and covered her chest like a curtain. This close in the light of day, Herrick was able to see that her hair looked like it had been run through with charcoal. He couldn’t imagine why she was hiding her true color, but that explained why it was so lifeless to the naked eye.

As strikingly beautiful as Maude always was, when her face was relaxed in sleep like this, he could see the woman behind the mask of aggression she used to keep people away. He traced her scar with his eyes, running from her hairline, through her eyebrow, and to the corner of her mouth. The harsh line was still pink, and where the purple bruise on her cheek met with the scar, it was red and angry.

He had given her that bruise, and he wished he hadn’t. They had an even brawl, and Herrick was raised not to discriminate between men andwomen in a fight. Liv was a perfect example of someone who could kick his ass without breaking a sweat if she wanted to.

No, his guilt was fed by the fact that he had added to the already heinous wound she hid from sight. Herrick felt that scars on a body showed a life well lived and fought for, but Maude seemed to be ashamed of the scar. The way she hid it from sight or tilted her head in ways that would draw attention from it told him that she would rather it go unnoticed. Regardless, he hated the idea that he had worsened what she clearly felt was her punishment.

Herrick quickly realized he was staring at her while she slept, unaware, and he had no intention of seeing what her wrath would look like if she woke up and saw him leering at her like a pervert. So he quietly stood, but apparently, the God of Mischief had other plans because Herrick’s shoulder knocked into one of the sticks, keeping her tent up and causing the entire structure to collapse on top of them.

He tripped forward and landed on top of Maude, shocking her awake and knocking the air out of her lungs as he collided with her. She grunted as he landed on her and immediately let out a shriek of frustration, shoving at him to get off her. When Herrick finally managed to pull himself off her and untangle them from the fallen clothing-made tent, he sat up and knew that when he turned to look at Maude, there would be murder in her eyes.