Page 23

A PUNGENT ODOR wafted off my tunic from the mortal land, yet I donned it anyway. Tova would appreciate the familiar sight. Perhaps this time she wouldn’t accuse me of galivanting across Asgard if I looked just like her—and smelled worse. I’d grabbed my axe since I wouldn’t be seeing Ve, and tied my leather sandals up my calves.

The noise from the arena overpowered the skies like thunder, so I paid no mind to how quietly I moved as I snuck behind the stone wall of the arena and down a dirt path, just as Ve had instructed.

I’d only stood there for two heartbeats when the trumpet sounded.

Two locks were flung, followed by the low sound of the knob turning and door being pulled aside slowly as if it hadn’t been opened in a hundred years. Plumes of dust swallowed me. I squinted through it to the shape of a narrow man with kind features and quick eyes that took in my surroundings to see I was alone.

When he was satisfied, he nodded, and opened the door further. I slipped inside, taking in the tight cobblestone walls rapidly before the door shut and darkness enveloped me.

The snick of a match came. A flame jumped forth from the guard, who transferred it to a torch. The fire was quick to gobble the oil, and a wave of heat hit my skin.

“Follow me,”

the guard said. He spoke quietly and moved swiftly.

I soon found out why. The walls were thick but not enough to drown out the shouting of the other mortals. It was terrible. They cried out in bitter screams, banging against the walls in dull beats keeping time with our footsteps. From above, I thought them all to be going to their deaths with dignity. But down here? Here I felt the terror.

“Do their cries never cease?”

I asked, moving faster.

He waved the torch. “They only shout when they see the light.”

I squinted harder at the walls to find the cracks of each door. I shivered.

After a few more steps, the doors continued, but the shouts grew quieter. Before I could ask, the guard spoke, “These are the ones who have already fought.”

My heart ached for them. Their spirits were broken.

A small wagon braced outside a door, with weapons inside. When we reached it, the guard moved for a key and slid it into the lock. It turned. The door swung outward, and I braced myself for what I might find inside.

Tova sat against the far wall under a sliver of light from the tiniest window above, one leg bent and the other out, shoulders sagged. Calculations brewed in her expression as she took in the guard, but they fell when they saw me.

“Rune?”

I stepped inside. “Thank you,”

I whispered to the guard.

He pushed the weapons in behind me. Tova’s eyes bulged. She stood.

“You have half an hour,”

the guard said. “And in case you get an inkling to break her out, you should know I am the god of all things seen and unseen, so believe me when I say nothing happens in these cells I do not know. You would not make it two steps.”

It was enough to remind me where I was. This was no mere mortal cell, but one forged in Asgard and watched over by gods. The slight plan had already taken root inside me, but now I let that slip away. “Noted.”

Content, the guard shut the door, and the lock clicked.

“We could have taken him,”

Tova said, standing at last. She came to inspect the weapons. “There is no god of seen and unseen.”

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t get past the sea of gods outside.”

I unhooked my axe. “We haven’t much time. I’m here to train you for the fight in three days.”

Her smile was a sad one, and she was quiet for a while as she selected an axe similarly sized to my own. She drew a deep breath. “Let’s get started then.”

Our swings were slower. These were not the dulled practice weapons we were used to, but ones that could slice off an arm if we weren’t careful. But if we could get her comfortable with the weight of Asgard weapons, then she would fare better in the fight.

She brought her axe down, and I lifted my handle to block. “The city is large,”

I started. “With wide streets offering no cover. Stay away from those. You’ll be a clear shot for anyone with a bow.”

She swung, and I stepped aside. “It bleeds into a sea at the bottom. Maintain the higher ground.”

“I know how to fight,”

Tova pressed.

“But you don’t know the city. Listen. The homes will be emptied, so you can hide somewhere until the end—”

“No.”

She swung hard, her long hair whipping in her face. “I will not hide. There is no honor in that.”

I stepped back to speak. “This isn’t about honor. You aren’t fighting for valor; you fight to be the last one standing. If you do this right, there will be no one left to speak of how you fought.”

She frowned. “It is not right.”

“Neither was the spear you used in the last match, but that is why you are alive.”

“The spear?”

Tova let the hilt of her axe drive into the stone. “I used that spear to stop you from hurling yourself into the arena. That saved your life, not mine.”

I opened my mouth, but she was right. I was going to throw myself in there.

“You weren’t the only one with an advantage,”

I said. “Gods are helping other mortals win. If you find an advantage, no matter how honorable it is, you take it.”

“She’s right.”

Both Tova and I raised our axes at the person who slipped through the door, but it was only Ve. He gave my axe a wary look even though it was poised nowhere near his chest. I could almost see the painful memory of his sister flash through his eyes.

I dropped the weapon with a clatter and stepped away.

Tova’s brows furrowed as she took in the action, slowly lowering her own.

Ve cleared his throat. “Ruin is right. There are other dealings at play here. In the match just now, the winner had a secret weapon on him before entering.”

“Odin didn’t notice?”

I asked, purposefully leaving my axe where it was as I selected a long-tipped dagger instead.

“Truthfully?”

Ve shut the door and leaned against it. “I think he’s turning a blind eye to give you room to throw the match.”

Tova’s frown deepened. “Why would he care who wins?”

“He’s doing it for Ruin.”

I flipped a second dagger to Tova. “Let’s keep going.”

She caught it, but pointed the end at Ve. “Say that again.”

“What? That he’s doing it for Ruin? She’s his granddaughter. He’d do anything for her.”

I could see the wheels turning in Tova’s mind as she spun the dagger in her hands a few times. “How are you pronouncing her name?”

“Ruin?”

My eyes widened, but before I could stop her, Tova turned to me. “He doesn’t know your name?”

Now Ve turned in disbelief. “I don’t know your name?”

My cheeks warmed. I gave Tova a quick glare before acknowledging Ve. “You. . . almost know my name. It’s just Rune.”

“How did I not know your name? You’re my fiancée.”

“Am I, though?”

I tilted my head. I understood playing the ruse for his friends, but I wouldn’t lie to Tova. “Besides, I’ve known people for three years before being brave enough to tell them I didn’t know their name, so a few weeks isn’t that bad.”

Tova’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not engaged?”

“This is a lot of information being shared. Let’s just fight?”

I suggested.

Ve rubbed a hand down his face. “I didn’t realize we were sharing that, but apparently it’s just our names we aren’t sharing.”

His gaze burned. “No, Rune,”

he put emphasis on my name, and I tried not to notice how my heart pounded as he said it correctly for the first time, “and I aren’t engaged. It’s just a ploy so we can sneak to Earth later where we will part ways. I’d rather the gods not follow me there.”

Now Tova looked at me as I dropped my eyes to the ground. Her gaze usually unraveled my inner thoughts, and right now I preferred to keep those to myself. “That’s why it’s so important you win,”

I told her. “I don’t want to return to Danmark without my best friend.”

When I looked back up, she was readying her stance for another fight.

“Okay then.”

Her words were clouded, like she wasn’t saying what she wanted to. “Let’s fight.”

She raised her dagger and advanced, thrusting this time. I hooked my blade, feeling the slice of iron as the weapons collided before twisting to yank. Tova held tight, and recovered quick enough to strike first.

“Quicker, Rune,”

Ve instructed. But it was tricky to be quick when my mind was caught on the way his tongue rolled with the R in my name, in a way it hadn’t done before.

Tova grinned like she could see my distracted thoughts. She struck again. I had to yank all my focus back to the fight to keep her blade from ripping at the skin on my chest. I poised with the blade up, more prepared to defend against her next attack.

“You’re too hesitant with her,”

Ve told me. “Fight.”

Tova looked from behind her mane of hair that had fallen over her face. “Who are you helping train? Rune or me?”

“You,”

he said. “If she doesn’t attack, you won’t get a real taste for the final challenge.”

He nodded to me. “Summon the aggression of Thor and go again.”

I attacked. Tova deflected easily, and struck first again. “Is Thor really like that?”

Tova asked. “Aggressive?”

“He’s big,”

I replied.

“He has the body and the temperament of a lion,”

Ve said. “Thor wouldn’t easily fall in battle. Think of him as you fight.”

I closed my eyes, pushing away thoughts of Ve and worries for my sister, and summoning my strength. When I opened them, I felt the power surge within me.

This time, I advanced. Tova lifted her axe, but mine came down hard enough to splinter her hilt. Her gaze turned fearful as she took it in, then tossed it aside to roll.

I allowed her time to fetch another weapon. Then I advanced again.

Once more, the hilt splintered.

“How are you doing that?”

Tova asked.

“Okay, ease back a bit,”

Ve commanded. “She hasn’t your strength.”

I didn’t know I had my strength. I tried to rein it in as Tova wordlessly selected a third weapon—a long-tipped sword—and held it up. Caution pierced her gaze, and now she was on the defense.

Tova struck. It was as if for the first time, we were evenly matched. I took her blows with ease. She rolled to escape mine. Sweat marred her forehead before it appeared on mine, and it was she who lost her breath sooner. She gripped the sword with two hands and hurled it my way.

I threw myself backward to avoid it. My elbow hit Ve in the gut hard. He grunted.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,”

he whispered back.

“You’ve gotten stronger in Asgard.”

Tova wiped the sweat from her brow.

“I think it’s the water,”

I replied dryly. There wasn’t time to unpack the question of my heritage.

“And what of Odin?”

Tova asked the question plainly, but I suspected it was to buy time to find her breath. Pride filled me. It wasn’t often she needed a break first. “What is the almighty Odin like?”

“That is a hard question to answer,”

Ve said, watching as I led the attack this time. “To most, he is someone to be feared, for when he makes decisions, they can seem swift and extreme. But to Rune—his family—she sees him differently.”

“How the tides have shifted, that Odin favors you now,”

Tova said.

Ruin was the child I meant to mark as my own?

The mark somehow went to Tova instead.

I swallowed hard. “He favors me because he thinks I am his descendant,”

I replied. “So I see a different side of him.”

Tova raised her weapon to begin again, but I thought quickly. “What of Aegir?”

The question threw them both off.

“Aegir?” Ve asked.

“Husband of Ran. The ones who drown sailors. What is he like when the fables are stripped away?”

I tried not to look too interested, but thoughts of Aegir had dwindled, and a prime opportunity such as this would not present itself again. My arms lowered as I waited for the reply.

“They used to be known for their lavish dinner parties under the sea, in Aegirheim,”

Ve replied. “But they drowned a Viking that Odin had marked as his, and lost favor with all of Asgard. They spend most their days in their underwater palace and are so rarely seen, some believe them to be vanished.”

The news was good. If Aegir was not in the habit of frequenting Asgard, then the odds of seeing him were low.

Tova gave me an odd look, then cleared her throat. “And Freyja? Is she as beautiful as the fables claim?”

“She is,”

Ve replied. “And far too cunning for her own good. We only have a few minutes left; raise your weapons and start again. Let’s see if we can get you to live long enough to meet the gods yourself.”

We fought for several more minutes. Occasionally, a noise would come from the corridor where the guard must be releasing the next two to fight, but it would be quiet when they came back in. Sometimes I caught a hint of the cheering from the gods. But mostly my focus was on Tova as we fought, and on Ve as he watched. Sometimes he’d offer a suggestion, but mostly he took us in. By the end, he let out a low whistle.

“You two fight like you are one.”

“It’s from years of training together.”

I wiped my brow.

His look was almost proud as he studied me, and now my cheeks were warm for a different reason. “Whatever the case, it’s a shame you can’t fight together. Not even the gods could face you then.”

At that moment, we heard the gods, and Ve anxiously looked through the sliver of the window. “I ought to get back. One more minute, then you need to go.”

I nodded, and he slipped away.

But Tova laid down her weapon. “We’ve never been ones to talk about boys,”

she stated.

“We don’t need to try it now.”

I picked back up my axe.

“You like him.”

Her accusation hung in the air. My breathing came steady despite rigorous training, and that was the first time in my life that had ever happened. But she didn’t take note. Only of the way my demeanor had changed around Ve.

“Yes,”

I finally admitted. “I like him, and I know how stupid it is to fall for a god, but I can’t help it.”

My sister wasn’t one for deep sentiment. We weren’t going to sit on the ground together to talk about how pretty his eyes were—but they were something. Instead, she nodded like I’d told her a very normal fact, and slipped her dagger away. “Have you told him?”

“Certainly not, and I’m not going to. He’s planning on separating as soon as we reach Earth, and I’m not going to beg him to stay.”

Now she froze, and took me in. “But you want to?”

She saw that this went deeper than merely liking him. “Of course I do,”

I replied. If this was to be my last time with my sister, let it not be shrouded in dishonesty. “He’s like a breath of fresh air after feeling like I’ve been drowning my whole life. When he looks at me, it’s like he sees me. But I can’t force him to choose me.”

Tova crossed her arms. She looked so much like Móoir when she did that, but it was Faoir’s practical tone that came out. “You can ask him to.”

“I won’t beg.”

She gave a dry laugh. “It’s not begging. It’s being comfortable enough to ask for what you want. If I’d told Trig how I felt years ago, it might have saved him, you, and me from heartbreak. But if you let him go, then your heart is doomed to break anyway.”

Her words had a punch to them, and I absorbed it as I put the last of the weapons on the cart. No doubt the guard would look over them and notice Tova had taken one for herself, but he might not. I happened to see her stash two.

I reached for the door, finding it unlocked. “When did you become so wise?”

“I’ve always been wise,”

she told me. “And you’ve always been blind when people like you back. Ask him. He may surprise you.”

Then her arms were around my neck, and she was squeezing me tight. I held her close, the moment stretching on forever and not nearly long enough. I wasn’t ready to let go. I’d never be ready to let go.

“If I die, don’t avenge me,”

she whispered in my ear. “Live.”

“Don’t die,”

I whispered back.

She laughed as she pulled away. “I’ll do my best.”

“So will I,”

I promised. Then I was out the door.

I didn’t make my way to Hitta Haven. Instead, I planted myself outside the entrance to the arena and watched as the gods left, waiting for one. If Ve had returned to them, he left before it ended, for I did not see him leave. I did see Liv and Leif, who both assured me Tova had fought well yesterday, and no one they watched today could beat her. But their lips were stretched tight as they said that, and disbelief hung in their eyes. She was well matched on her own. But with Ve and me helping her, I was starting to believe we could pull it off.

Which led to my next move.

There he was. After almost all the gods had left, Balder came out the doors, bedecked in a silver breastplate and gold cuffs around his arms, his head bent as he spoke with a woman as beautiful as the dawn with dark hair and slender hands that she kept close to her stomach as she walked, each step graceful enough she could be on a cloud.

I stepped onto the path. Balder’s gaze snapped up to mine, followed by a moment of hesitation as he searched my face.

“May I speak with you?” I asked.

He gave the woman at his side a quick look. She wasn’t watching him though—her eye was firmly on me. Taking in every detail like the gods had when I’d first arrived, and it made me shift. I cleared my throat. “It’s important.”

“Of course,”

Balder replied. “How can I help?”

The woman didn’t leave his side. That was fine. My message was a quick one, and it wasn’t even for Balder. I slipped a hand into my pocket to remove the letter I’d penned this morning and passed the furled parchment to Balder. “This is for Trig.”

Balder examined it as if he might loosen the ribbon and read inside. I’d intentionally left it without a seal so one could easily do so. If he did, he’d find nothing but good intentions. Something along the lines of how sorry I was for how things ended, and how I wished Trig and Tova the best in their future, and more pleasantries as such. But then I signed my name with a rune inscription, instead of my name.

It was our sign. When he saw it, he’d know the letter was coded. Inside were two requests, and the first was simple:

Find the way out of Asgard.

He might know it already, since he’d found a way in. But when this was over and Tova won, I wasn’t trusting the gods to deliver her and Trig safely. When she finished the battle, she would not be returning to the gods. Trig and Tova would be leaving, and leaving alive.

That led me to the second request.

More than that, if it looked like things weren’t going favorably, I was instructing Trig to take Tova and escape Asgard early. I’d finish up the battle for her.

I held Balder’s gaze unabashed, until he tucked the letter away. “I’ll deliver it today.”

“Thank you,”

I said even-keeled. I fully expected that ribbon to come off as soon as I left, but it wouldn’t matter. He’d never decipher the code.

I bowed my head to take my leave, but Balder turned to the woman at his side. “I’ll give you two a moment.”

He slipped away first, while I stood with my head half bent—trying to figure out who this woman was that he was leaving me with, and why she was looking at me as if trying to see into my future.

She kept her mouth shut while I didn’t know what to say anyway. Before speaking, she offered an arm. “Walk with me.”

I frowned after Balder but took the woman’s arm.

She carried the sweet scent of cherry blossoms, and an air of dignity lived in how she held herself tall. It contrasted with me. There was an unmistakable feeling I didn’t belong beside her, like my very being was aware we were unmatched. I could fake it amongst the other gods, but something about her set me on edge.

I tried to inspect her from the corner of my eye as we walked. She adorned herself in a gown woven from twilight itself, deep sapphire and shimmering silver, cascading like a waterfall of stardust. The fabric shifted with the light, catching the golden glow of Asgard’s sun. A cloak of raven feathers, black as the void with hints of violet and midnight blue, draped over her shoulders, fastened with a brooch shaped like a crescent moon. Her arms were wrapped in golden arm rings, etched with the stories of the gods, and at her wrists, silver bangles chimed like the wind.

When we’d gone a grueling fifty-seven paces (I wasn’t counting), she finally stopped.

“I’m Ase. Ve’s móoir.”

The announcement dropped like a rock in my belly and did nothing to ease my nerves. I’d prefer returning to when I didn’t know who she was, because now I was nervous about what to say, how to act, and if I looked put together. I was certain I did not.

Ase’s smile deepened, but it wasn’t necessarily pleasant. “And you are my best friend’s daughter, the one who is to marry my youngest child.”

My mind raced. ‘I am’ sounded too dull. Thank you for this opportunity was too stiff. Thankfully, my mind scraped something coherent together. “I enjoy spending time with Ve.”

A single brow raised. “I should think so, if you wish to marry him. Yet,”

she looked back the way we came, “you still carry on correspondence with your old love.”

My cheeks flamed. “Trig is betrothed to my sister. Happily,” I added.

“Yet that does not change what I saw.”

“I carry no torch for Trig,”

I told her fervently. “Those feelings are gone.”

She drew a slender finger across her lip, taking me in. Then, in a soft, thoughtful voice, she diverted the topic. “Tell me, what are mothers like where you are from? Would yours fight a bear for you? Would she take on the seas to save you from drowning?”

I gave no response.

“I don’t know what móoirs are like in Danmark, but in Asgard, we protect our children fiercely,”

she said. “Ve has never fallen in love, yet he meets you and is ready to marry you a few days later. Forgive me for the doubt, but it strikes me as odd.”

Unease coiled within me. She’d call us out as liars. She’d stop us from getting home.

She circled me like a lion while I stood like a warrior waiting for the enemy to strike. Her husband had already lashed out at me. I would not be struck twice. “In your entire time in Asgard, you have made no effort to get to know his family or to seek him out at his home. Instead your focus has been on your sister and on this mortal boy.”

The picture Ase painted was not inaccurate. From the outside, I appeared uncaring. Even at our engagement party, I left early without meeting his móoir—a fact I regretted now.

She wasn’t done. “Am I mistaken?”

She drew back. “Say the word, and I will ring the wedding bells myself. Give me a reason to celebrate and I shall lift my glass. But if you aim to betray my son, my anger will be unmatched.”

“You are mistaken,”

I replied, facing her squarely. “I cannot speak to his affection for me, but I plan to marry your son.”

Her head tilted. As her mouth pressed tight, she studied me again, this time narrowing in on my eyes. I stood strong.

“I want to marry him,”

I said again, letting her hear the sincerity that I faked. “I love Ve, and I want a life with him. He will not be hurt by me.”

The corner of her lip twisted up.

“Is that what you needed to hear? I love his drive, his passion, and the way he cares for his friends. I love that he’s fierce enough to fight and soft enough to paint. And I love the way he says my name.”

I was laying it on thick, but I needed to convince her.

From her expression, I had. “It was,”

she replied slowly. “Hmm. You really love him.”

My gaze dropped at last. It was frightening how close to the truth that was becoming.

She tenderly lifted my chin with her fingers. Her eyes were as warm as Ve’s, and they softened at last. Her parting words were a whisper. “Perhaps it is not my son’s heart that will get broken.”

I didn’t care for the implication that mine would be. She left, strolling back toward the arena where several horses still waited. I watched her go the entire way, wondering how much of what I’d just said was a lie, and how much was true.

Every part of me wanted to pull my heart back and lock it in a box so it didn’t get broken like it had with Trig. I felt like I was still putting the pieces back together after he’d hurt it, and I didn’t have the ability to love as fully as I should. But somehow, I had managed to put my heart out there again.

Those might not be the right words for it. I wasn’t certain I’d put my heart out there so much as it had thr itself out there on its own. And it had no intention of pulling back.

There was a harrowing thought, one that terrified me as much as it thrilled me. But for Ve, I would take the heartbreak. I’d take the risk, because he was worth the reward.

If this was all to end in flames, I wanted to feel every moment of the burn.