Page 21

THE MORNING ARRIVED without fanfare, but it was one that could change my life forever. I was well aware of that as I dragged myself from the bed—today, Tova could die. For her sake, the conversation I’d overheard last night was shoved to the back of my mind where it stayed like a prowling wolf that took all my energy to ignore.

I didn’t dress as a mortal this morning, but as a goddess. I slid into a fitting, dark gray slip tied into a knot at my waist that left a gap at my thigh before stretching to my heels, and clapped gold bands of laurel to my arms. They hugged tightly, almost feeling like chains. As soon as the thought entered my mind, I grabbed hold of it and twisted it until it changed. These were not chains. They were deliberately chosen for their golden hues—Odin’s color—to remind everyone who had his protection right now in case I threw myself into the arena.

Which brought me to the weapons.

I picked up two daggers and strapped them to both my arms, letting their blades draw a line from my shoulder to the back of my elbow. The straps melded beneath the laurel perfectly so from the front I appeared harmless, but from the back I was lethal. It was up to me which side showed up today.

Since I’d not been given a chariot, I had to wait at the steps for Ve, who appeared just as the sun reached the tops of the pines. Looking glum as ever, I might add.

My words from yesterday came back to me.

For my sister, I would burn Asgard down.

Even if you burned me with it?

He quietly offered an arm, not stepping off the chariot as I took my place beside him. “Good morning.”

The words were clipped, and it was all I got before he clicked for his horses to move and I had to grab hold of the rails.

I wasn’t used to a silent Ve, but the quietness of him filled the space between us until it felt like a chasm. I was highly aware when his arm brushed mine, and how he shifted so it wouldn’t happen again. That tiny movement pained me. Yet I didn’t know what to say.

“You’re upset,”

I noted plainly.

He fidgeted with the reins, not letting his gaze meet mine. “I’m thinking.”

“You look very mad when you are thinking.”

He didn’t smile. So he was mad.

“Is it because I didn’t offer to let you burn down Asgard with me?”

I asked. “You don’t want to be left out?”

“Left out?”

He looked at me like I’d said something ridiculous. “When have I been let in? I’ve been left out with you from the moment you held a dagger to my throat. I don’t know what being let in looks like with you.”

For the record, a dagger to the throat was what being let in usually looked like. Tova and I held daggers to each other’s throats almost daily in training, and she was my best friend. It wasn’t a dagger, but I put a very pointy stick to Trig’s chest and dared him to fight me, and I’d loved him at the time. At this point, it should be taken as a sign of affection.

The confusing part was, I didn’t think Ve wanted to be let in. Nothing he’d said indicated otherwise. I was a fake fiancée he was only using to have some grand adventure on Earth. Nothing more. As far as I knew, we’d get to Danmark and he’d say goodbye—never to see me again. Never to think of me again. While I’d be left holding onto our memories like precious stones in a fragile bottle.

Because time with him meant something to me. It meant more and more to me by the day. I found myself thinking of him in the moments between activities, in the still of the night and in the heat of the day, thinking of ways to make him laugh and how to get him to look my way. But the feelings were still small, and every inch of them coated in the knowledge that he wouldn’t want me the same way.

“Do you want to be let in?”

I tried to read his expression, but his hair was let down today and the dark locks hid some of his features. Though I caught when his dark eyes cut my way. There was a loaded expression inside them, like that might be exactly what he wanted.

I had enough on my mind. I shouldn’t worry about whether or not he liked me. But gods, if he liked me. . . My chest swelled. That would feel better than the rain in summer.

If Tova knew her life was on the line and I was wondering if a boy liked me…

“You don’t need to open the door and let me barrel through like a bear,”

Ve said softly. “But at least prop open a window or something.”

“Consider it opened,” I said.

He gave a small smile.

I thought the conversation was done, but after a few minutes he spoke again. “I know it must be difficult for you to let people in.”

My shields flew up. “We don’t have to do this.”

I didn’t want to go over the sad parts of my childhood. The parts that still remembered what it was like to freeze half to death in the winter while my parents decided death was a gracious thing for me. I didn’t want to go over the times I was forgotten, mistreated, or ignored. That was done. Over. Scars that were sure to fade if I forgot about them long enough, and I could move on.

“I’m here,”

Ve said. “I want you to know I’m looking out for you.”

I kept my emotions in check. “That’s good, because someone’s going to need to save me from your faoir when he discovers we’ve left Asgard. He’s going to kill me.”

Ve laughed, which wasn’t the response I wanted when I mentioned his faoir killing me. “He’s going to kill us both,”

Ve corrected. “But he won’t find us.”

I didn’t press. After we went to Danmark, there’d be no more us. But it was a nice sentiment anyway.

We were closer to the arena now, and the streets grew more crowded by the moment. The noise of it overtook us, and we didn’t speak again until the chariot stopped at the front of the arena.

My stomach tightened until I thought I might be sick. Dirt was in the air like smoke, the call of a hawk above like a death cry, and the chant of gods so loud, I could hardly hear my own thoughts. I heard my heart though, as it pounded mercilessly in my chest. A blinding ray of sunlight hit from the golden bars around the arena, lighting the path before us. It wasn’t a path I wanted to take. I wanted to run from this place and take Tova with me. But she was chained inside, so my feet moved that direction.

Ve's hand found mine, and he pulled me back to him.

I looked up, and the second our eyes met, the sounds melted away. For a second, I almost believed things would be okay. But life wasn’t easy, and Ve couldn’t solve this for me.

“If you try to help her, you will be put to death,”

Ve warned me.

I swallowed hard. “I know that.”

He deliberately glanced to my long-tipped daggers. “That’s not I’ll stay away.”

That wasn’t something I could say, so instead my lips tightened. He sighed. “Who knew such a small thing could be so difficult to keep alive?”

His words caught me before I could make for the arena. I squared myself before him. “If I jump, you are not to jump after me.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he moved past. The wind caught in his hair as it shifted with each step. “You are my ticket to freedom, so where you go, I go. Besides…”

He gave me a look over his shoulder. “What sort of fiancé would I be if I didn’t jump in after you?”

“An alive one,”

I grunted, and followed him into the noise.

The sun was warmer in the arena, or perhaps it was the sheer number of gods pressed together as we all fought to get a good view. Or it could have been my nerves pressing against every inch of me. The dirt had been raked but stood empty for now, the betting booth open again, and the jravn flowing freely. It was as terrible as I remembered. Everyone celebrating at the dawn of death.

Ve’s hand found mine again. It was for the sake of appearances, but the gentle squeeze, that was for me. Before I had to ask, he pushed through the crowd to find us seats near the front where I could rest my elbows against the railing and look over the fighting space.

Two racks of weapons were placed at either side, both appearing identical in what they held—with varying shields, spears, axes, daggers, and swords. I focused on the spears, trying to find the one Balder told me about, but couldn’t spot an emerald hilt from this far away. From here, they all appeared deadly.

The door below was still bolted shut, with a guard standing outside it doing very well at protecting us from the locked door.

“Have the mortals ever tried to attack the gods?” I asked.

“From what I’ve heard, it happens every time.”

“Will we be safe?”

There was no guard up between us and them, which made it ideal for me to risk the long jump down, but enough strength would send a spear hurtling our way.

“Mortals are no match for gods,”

Ve replied.

“I held my own against your faoir for a while,” I said.

He peeked to me. “You’re not a mortal.”

I fell silent. By his logic, and if I was a goddess, I ought to have fared well in Danmark. More than that. I ought to have dominated. But I hadn’t. You were gone from Asgard for too long. Your strength will return now that you are home. It had. My breathing felt better. Even now, as dirt clouded the air, it wasn’t choking my lungs like it usually would. But instead of making me feel relieved, I only felt cheated. Because if they were right and I was a goddess, I’d lost a really nice life here in favor of a difficult one in Danmark.

My gaze shifted to find Odin. He watched me with steel in his gaze, looking as suspicious as Ve that I was seconds away from hurling myself into the arena. I wasn’t. Not yet.

His head shook slowly. I averted my eye.

Then it snapped back. At Odin’s side, tied by his hands to Odin’s chair, was Trig.

His back was straight as a board, and while he tried not to appear nervous, I caught how his eyes shifted amongst the gods. Mainly they were focused on the locked door though, waiting for Tova. His skin was pale and sickly, and Odin hadn’t given him anything other than his torn Viking clothes to wear. Or he had, and Trig refused them. Either way, he looked greatly out of place in the threadbare tunic, faded belt, and scruffy boots lined with fur.

His sword was gone. Very wise.

I crossed my legs as I sat, letting the skirts fall around me. “Do you remember the boy I was in love with in Danmark?”

Ve frowned. “I do.”

His tone darkened. Was that a hint of jealousy?

I raked a hand through my short hair to move the wild waves aside as I jutted my chin forward. “He’s the one chained to Odin’s chair.”

His eyes flared before they swung to Odin. “The one who looks like death?”

How many people did he see tied to Odin’s chair? “Of course it’s that one.”

“That’s the boy you love?”

“Loved,”

I corrected. “In case you forgot my heartwarming story, he broke my heart.”

“I remember well,”

Ve said with a tone indicating he wasn’t pleased to see Trig here. “What is he doing in Asgard?”

I eyed Trig, grateful he didn’t appear to see me. If Tova was upset at seeing me happy after all she went through to find me on Earth, Trig would be livid to see me snuggled up with another man. A handsome man, who kept his arm near mine so his finger could absentmindedly stroke my hand as if that were the most natural thing in the world. All for appearances, but Trig wouldn’t know that. “He came to fight Odin to save Tova. Odin didn’t agree, but graciously allowed Trig to stay and watch.”

Now his focus swiveled back to me. “How long have you known he was here?”

“I saw him last night.”

His jaw dropped. “And you went the entire chariot ride without telling me?”

“You were too busy being upset for me to say anything,”

I reminded him. His jaw closed. “And there’s nothing to tell. Odin refused him, and now he gets to watch whether Tova will die, right alongside me.”

I wasn’t sure whether it was crueler to leave Trig in Danmark not knowing what became of Tova, or to let him be here to witness her death. The way Ve’s lips twisted, he found it cruel. Or that could be a lingering displeasure at seeing my former flame here. Either way, I didn’t miss how his hand grabbed hold of mine. “She will not die,”

he whispered. Followed by, “and he can’t have you back.”

I wouldn’t want him back. Before I could open my mouth to say so, someone called out Ve’s name.

From the thick crowds gathered on stone seats behind us, Ve’s friends pushed through, led by Liv who was shoving with her elbows as gods complained. She gave them and their sharp weapons no mind. Behind her, Leif was a little more apologetic as they barreled past.

Liv’s blonde hair was pulled into a dramatic braid curling down her back, with a striking black armor set strapped to her body, complete with a leather skirt ending halfway down her thigh. Her gaze flickered across the arena like she was hungry for the action. That same emotion buzzed in the air around us. She jumped into the seat next to me and flung her feet up on the railing. “It’s about time they get started.”

“Just waiting for you,” Ve said.

“The day Liv is on time is the day time stops,”

Leif remarked as he found the seat beside Liv with far less enthusiasm than she had. Still, the excitement was living in every inch of him as he leaned forward and set his eyes ahead.

“I was on time today,” Liv said.

“We had to drag her here.”

Ingra’s stiff voice came as she sat behind us. Instead of armor, she’d gone with an ivory dress that accented her pale skin and striking dark hair, but the dress couldn’t hide her lithe movements or make anyone think she was anything less than deadly. Ingra frightened me more than the others—even Bjorn who was huge. It was the quieter, softer ones who fought the hardest. Tova had taught me that. She was the same way.

My focus pulled back to the door where the guard stood. She was behind it somewhere, awaiting the fight.

I couldn’t decide if I hoped she fought first, so I could relax knowing she lived, or she fought last, so I could still keep this hope alive. Truthfully, I hoped for a miracle so she didn’t need to fight at all.

By Trig’s face, he hoped for the same thing. As time went by, he thrashed against his bonds, bravely risking Odin’s ire even as he glared at him.

“You said you saw him last night.”

Ve followed my gaze, and his words came slow like they were chosen carefully. “Did he come to your place?”

I grinned at the distant way he asked, almost perfectly masking the interest beneath. Almost. My lips pulled into the barest smile. It was all I could manage right now. “That bothers you, doesn’t it? The thought of him with me?”

He shot me a look. Whatever he saw in my face was enough to make him straighten, and all emotion fell from his eyes. “You’re right. None of my concern.”

But he wanted an answer, so I gave it to him. “You are the only late-night visitor I’ve had.”

I gave him a gentle shove, and the corner of his mouth raised.

Then a trumpet sounded, and all other sounds faded. I was vaguely aware of how I lost feeling in my body and how the blood rushed in my head. All senses refused to work other than my eyes, locked on that door, as the lock was turned and it slowly swung outward.

Tova had been last out yesterday. She was first today.

They’d dressed her up, taming her curls into two locks down her back and painting runes on her arm. Perhaps they would make her think of me and know I was there with her, rooting for her with every swing of the axe. Leather sandals were on her feet with straps done up her calf. Her tunic was simple enough until I caught sight of the back. It’d been torn, right at the top.

I smiled. She was showing off Odin’s mark. Reminding Odin she was his.

Briefly, she caught my eye. I waited with bated breath.

Slowly, and only once, she nodded. I exhaled. I’d take that as a sign she’d use the spear. She wasn’t stubborn enough to die.

Tova crossed to the middle of the arena and planted herself there like a statue with her chin held high. The picture of fearless. I was not as convincing. Neither was Trig. His knees had given out. He shouted her name, and only then did her composure break.

The arena had quieted as she walked out, but now it roared to life—everyone spotting the mortal chained to Odin’s chair. Amidst the roar, Tova stepped back and clutched a hand to her heart. I tried to make out the words from her lips.

What are you doing here?

I squinted to catch his reply. For you.

I missed her reply. Probably something like you shouldn’t have done that, and she’d be right. He shouldn’t have. But none of that mattered now, especially as someone else was coming from the concrete, prison door.

It was another girl, one clad in leather and steel from her shoes to her shoulders to weaves in her hair. Her skin was darker like mine, with sun-stained hair and a fire in her eyes we could see from here. She left a trail along the ground as dust swelled in the wake of her confident steps, and came almost to Tova’s side. She was shorter, but held her chin high enough as if she could fix that.

From somewhere, someone was announcing, “Our champion Tova Heiskandottir will face off against the champion Glyn Bjarnadottir in one-on-one combat to the death. The winner will have found favor in Odin’s eye and be allowed to compete in three days’ time in the final competition.”

Allowed. Like it was their heart’s one desire.

Ve’s hand still held mine, and now he squeezed it. “She can win.”

“Maybe,”

I whispered. “But the gods only choose the best.”

A trumpet sounded—a horrible sound—and the match began.

I was ready to jump, but I forced myself to give Tova a chance. As long as she got to the spear…

They sprinted into action, Tova racing to one weapon rack and Glyn to another. They took the barest moment to select a weapon, but I was grateful to see Tova pass over the faulty shields. Glyn wouldn’t have that knowledge, proved when she grabbed hold of the largest shield and held it up. She opted for a narrower blade with a long, hooked tip. It would tear flesh easily and be more manageable, but would do nothing against bone. If that was to be Tova’s death, that blade offered a slow one.

As for Tova, I waited for her to grab the spear.

She didn’t. Her hand drifted by.

“Tova,”

I breathed, willing the urgency in my voice to find her.

She tightened each fist around an axe, wielded them high, and ran at Glyn.

They met somewhere in the middle, amongst the roar of the crowd and the dry of the dust. Tova’s axe came down to claim the first hit, and it cracked against Glyn’s shield. She had to use her hilt to block the strike of Glyn’s blade as she ripped her first axe back. She swung again, hitting the same spot, and doing nothing more than clattering off the edge of it.

I eyed Liv. Those shields were rigged to break. She’d told me that.

As if sensing my thoughts she nodded. I swallowed that hope and turned back to my sister. At my side, Ve was squeezing my hand with both of his. It was hard to find any comfort in a moment like this, but it meant something to me that he was trying. All around us, the gods had their own weapons raised in the air as they shouted. It made the atmosphere all the worse, like the air was thicker and it pressed in on us from all sides. It’d be impossible not to let the pressure get to you, especially when Tova was used to training beside me in the quiet of the fjord, but for now she was holding her own. She advanced, her axe swinging.

Step by step, she pushed Glyn closer toward the rim where she could trap her beneath the dual axes. If that shield ever broke. It’d taken many hits by now, enough to make any mortal blacksmith proud from the scraps of metal plated to it.

Glyn darted her gaze from side to side as she backed up. That fueled Tova, and her axe swung with a sickening speed.

It struck. The shield splintered.

Both girls faltered as the shield fell apart before their eyes. Tova recovered first, and Glyn had to dart to the side to avoid being struck. She could move much faster now, and Tova discarded one of her axes to race after her.

Glyn hurled herself around with her blade outstretched. It connected with the edge of Tova’s axe, and Glyn used the weight to rip downward and spin herself into Tova. There, she jammed hard with her elbow against Tova’s gut, keeping the axe outstretched away from them. Tova bent, and grunted as she rammed her head against the back of Glyn’s. It was enough to push her away so she could rehandle the axe.

But Glyn didn’t allow her to attack. She dropped her weapon, and instead of running, barreled into Tova. It knocked them to the ground, where they rolled into the weapon cart and knocked it over.

Swords, axes, and spears rolled around them. Glyn ended on her back and fumbled for a shield to hold above her head as Tova struck again. This shield cracked instantly. She tightened her grip on the broken shards of wood and jammed them into Tova’s arm.

It drew blood. Tova screamed.

Gleefully, Glyn drew to her feet. The audience was roaring, and she soaked in their praise as Tova drew a large splinter from her skin. Glyn picked up the axe Tova had dropped before, and raised it.

“Are you still confident Tova will win?”

I asked Ve.

“Yes.”

But his reply came slower. She was evenly matched. His grip tightened.

Tova’s eye went to the side, where the spear was. But she was forced to look back as Glyn attacked.

Her footing was all wrong though, obsessed with constant motion, so she never took the chance to ground herself. She threw her full body into the swing, then bounced back, reset and swung again, her feet moving three times in between.

But Tova stood like a calm storm, waiting to strike until Glyn came close enough. When she did, Tova jammed her hilt upward to deflect the attack then yanked it sideways. It rammed against Glyn’s cheek.

“Yes,”

I whispered. The fickle crowds roared with pleasure.

Tova advanced, driving the girl back. Glyn’s movements became more panicked. That would be how Tova won, by keeping calm as Glyn fell apart.

They were closer to our side now, close enough that the familiar glint of victory came into view in Tova’s eyes. She swung. Glyn connected then retreated. Again. Again. Backing her against the wall.

Glyn’s shoulder blades hit the wall. She couldn’t swing an axe from there. Not hard enough to matter, anyway.

Tova swung, and it was all Glyn could do to lift her axe and hold back the blade.

That was it. Tova had her. Everyone knew it. As they screamed, Tova lifted her gaze to find Trig.

She’d never killed before. I guessed it was easier when the other person was actively trying to kill her and gods were cheering her on, but it was never easy.

Trig pulled his lips into a thin line, and slowly nodded. Telling her it was okay.

Before she could look back, Glyn shifted, letting Tova’s axe slam into the wall behind her. As Tova drew it back to make the final blow, Glyn reached into the weaves of her hair and drew out a dagger. She sliced against Tova’s leg.

My sister collapsed to a knee. I screamed.

It all happened so quickly, it was hard to process. Somehow, Glyn had a hidden blade. She hadn’t picked it up here. We would have seen it. And they were stripped of their weapons upon entering Asgard.

Just like Balder was able to help by offering a spear, someone had helped Glyn.

Which meant a god here was trying to get Tova killed.

Tova winced, but recovery time wasn’t an option. Not when Glyn’s axe was coming down. She rolled to the side, roared as she put weight on her leg, and sprinted toward the weapons again, leaving her second axe behind.

Now, she glanced up to me. It was too fast for me to try to say anything, but long enough to see her desperation.

“I need to help her.” I stood.

Ve held fast to my hand. His grip only fastened when I tried to pull loose.

“Let me go.”

Blood rushed into my head, and my breathing quickened. I must get to Tova’s side. But Ve wouldn’t let go.

“They will kill you,”

he said. He stood to make us appear more natural but made it clear that his hand—and impossibly tight grip—was not going anywhere. I stared at him. The touch I’d found sweet a moment ago was now clear, and it was never out of affection. It was to hold me back.

“Look,”

he said, ignoring my glare.

I swung to see Tova. She fumbled through the weapons, limping on her leg, as Glyn strutted toward her. She took her time, messing with each one as blood dripped down her leg. She was coming undone at the seams. At last, her fingers played with the edge of a spear, then she yanked it out.

She’d found Balder’s spear. Now she knew Glyn wasn’t playing by the rules, and she wouldn’t either.

I prayed Balder’s words were true and this spear would let her win. Let it be strong enough to save her. She held it up, and hurled it at Glyn.

At their distance, Glyn had enough time to dodge. She laughed as she watched it whizz by, and my heart sank. She had the winning weapon, and she’d literally thrown it away.

But as Glyn was laughing, Tova slid a dagger out from her sleeve. I’d seen it amongst the weapons. She must have stashed it as she pretended to fumble for the spear. With precision, she flung the dagger, and it struck true.

The hilt protruded from Glyn’s chest. She looked down, then back at Tova.

Tova held the gaze as Glyn fell. Only when she’d stopped moving did she look away, back to Trig. He was bent in relief as Odin sat with a small smile on his face, and the rest of the arena celebrated.

Would they have celebrated if Tova had fallen? Did they care who won, as long as it was a good show? The truth was bitter, but this time, Tova had come out as the victor. The praises were for her.

Amidst it all, Tova straightened to shout. “You will all see me again in three days’ time.”

She walked to the edge to be closer to Odin, and closer to Trig. The wound on her leg didn’t appear to bother her anymore, and now I wondered if she’d exaggerated the injury. “And you will all see why I have Odin’s favor when I win.”

She bowed, gave Trig one last look, and walked back into the darkness of the tunnel.

I tore my hand from Ve, and he let go.

“I can’t watch anymore,”

I said. Before he could stop me, I slid from the arena, a mix of horror and relief balled into a tight knot in my chest that I feared would never unravel. Mortal blood was spilling into the dirt, and it was draining my heart at the same time.

I’d never get over the fear of seeing my sister almost die. And I’d never move past the gods cheering as mortals were slain before them. I’d been trying to figure out where I belonged, but now I knew.

Even if I was a goddess, I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t born for a place like Asgard. Danmark was my only home.

As soon as I hit the open air, I ran.