Page 28

THE MORE I traced over the problem of getting that key, the more I doubted it could be done. But for now, it was not the most pressing issue at hand. Tomorrow Tova would fight for her life, and that needed to be where my mind was. I buttoned up the silky, maroon tunic, reminding myself I’d been distracted enough recently.

Sometimes I thought of Tova tucked in the cell, cold or hungry, and felt ashamed I was enjoying warm sunlight and eager kisses from a god while she had nothing. Instead of pushing that feeling down, I let it bubble to the surface and dwelled on it, until I was refocused on my own goal—save my sister.

I slipped a slender blade into a sheath on my calf, and let the loose pant leg fall over it. My shoulders were bare, which made hiding more knives difficult, but a shawl would look as if I had something to hide. My intention for tonight was to appear as innocent as possible.

I could bring my new sword though. It was a gift from Odin, and my reminder to him that I am his blood.

Today I’d play the gods. Act like nothing more than an infatuated goddess in love with her fiancé, hardly caring what happened to her sister. Let none notice when the shell of sweetness cracked and the monster stepped out.

I dusted rouge on my cheeks, spread deep red on my lips, left my chopped dark hair loose with a strand of gold hanging through it, and descended the steps of the temple to wait for Ve.

He showed up on cue—and by the gods—he showed up.

Onyx hair tamed back into a curled bun, black suit left undone to reveal a bare chest, thick straps tight against his skin in a crossed pattern, holding an array of knives. A wide shield glittering red and gold on his back. A sly smile on his face like he knew what the sight of him was doing to me.

The role of innocent flirt would be my easiest one yet.

“My shield matches your dress.”

He stepped from his chariot, where the two horses bowed their head to wait for their master’s command.

“It does.”

I descended the stairs, letting him see how the flow of my skirt was no skirt at all, but two pant legs. At the bottom, I held one leg up. “Not a dress.”

His brow cocked. “That’s practical.”

“And comfortable. I see we are sporting all the weapons today.”

My gaze raked over the array of daggers, each unsheathed and each sharp. “Anticipating an attack or planning one?”

“You expect me to believe you aren’t carrying any yourself?”

I grinned, and lifted the fabric of one pantleg. “Just Delight.”

“That one is my favorite.”

He reached out to pull me across the distance and plant his lips against mine. “You ready for tonight?”

“I’m ready.”

He opened the side of his suit further. The span of blades continued. I ran a hand over them. “These will do perfectly.”

Small enough to conceal, but lethal enough to cause damage. And they were coming from Ve instead of me, so it would be much easier to slip them to Tova, just as we planned last night. The only trick would be to get her to play along enough to hand over the weapon. For tomorrow, she’d need any advantage she could get.

My stomach tightened at the thought of tomorrow, but I forced myself to swallow. Get through today first. Then worry about tomorrow.

Ve stepped onto the chariot behind me and steered the horses forward, up the bend, and back to Odin’s home. It had been so wonderful the first time I went. Today, it felt very much like walking into the open jaw of a wolf. I hardly noticed when Ve put a hand on my back.

“Everything will be fine,”

he whispered. “If her aim is as good as you say it is, she’ll have killed three before they race to grab weapons.”

“It’s good,”

I said back.

But the thought remained.

We were helping Tova.

What about all the other gods who were helping other champions? What tricks did they have up their sleeves? Quite likely it was much more than a hidden weapon, and whatever it was could be aimed for Tova’s heart.

The theme for the feast was weapons, which made me think I could have worn many and still appeared harmless.

Ve would blend right in.

The midday sunlight shattered though the sky, striking against gilded posts that plunged into the ground where an array of shields posed as walls, creating an outdoor room where a hundred polished wooden tables lined up.

Atop each was an array of eucalyptus garland in shades of pale green, with dainty white flowers strung throughout.

Tall candles atop stumps of wood adorned the center, with various daggers driven into the wood like spikes—a reminder that this feast was to celebrate fighting.

All around, deity gathered.

Goddesses in strapless bronze armor.

Gods with a broadsword in one hand and an axe in the other.

Odin stood before a captive crowd, each with jravn in hand, while Frigg poised in front of a crowd of her own, catching my eye and smiling approvingly at me and Ve.

From the twinkle in her eye, I guessed Balder had recounted a tale of how close Ve and I stood that morning.

I slipped my hand into Ve’s and smiled innocently back.

Let the fa?ade begin.

By the time today was over, no one would suspect I had anything on my mind other than how handsome Ve was.

Certainly not taking Tova’s place in the fight tomorrow.

As Frigg shifted back to her crowd, my gaze wandered to the north end of the feast, where a long, narrow oak table sat atop a dais of stone, with golden cups and plates of silver, and chairs for each of the ten champions. White ribbons looped themselves through the spools of the chairs.

An almost identical table loomed at the opposite end of the feast, with the only difference being the color of the ribbon. These were blood red. And I guessed no one would be sitting in those seats.

Ve snatched two flutes and passed one to me. The bubbly, white wine was a welcome sight. I would not tempt fate today with jravn.

As we drank, Ve wrapped an arm around my back to hold me close, until the daggers across his chest were against mine as well, and I had to tilt my head to drink. It fizzed in my mouth, going down sweetly.

“You look beautiful today,”

Ve whispered. “I don’t think I told you earlier.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself.”

“From the way you stared at me when I arrived, you think I look better than half bad.”

I bent my head up to give him a sly grin. His eyes had a devilish spark to them, like he was enjoying the public spectacle we had to put on as much as I was. At least this part wasn’t difficult to fake. “Three-fourths nice, then.”

“And one-fourth irresistible?”

he asked hopefully. His head bent close, until I could almost taste his smile.

“One-fourth something,”

I whispered back, and let his lips fall onto mine with the barest brush of a kiss, just enough that I could feel his smile, leaving me wanting more. When he pulled away, he bent his head to the west.

“I want to show you something.”

With his hand wrapping mine, he led me through aisles marked by tables, ignoring as eyes watched us. The weeks of being here hadn’t made us any less of a spectacle, and I had no doubt everyone could see how the air had changed between us. When the crowd thinned, he pointed. A giant, wooden, snake-like sculpture stretched high, its tale dug into the dirt and its body contorted into spirals, where vibrant red and orange laurels hung.

“These,”

Ve said, releasing my hand to grab one, “are a symbol of unity to us.”

He passed me his wine to hold the laurel in both hands. The colors absorbed the sunlight to shine like a lantern, glistening with all the beauty of autumn. Only in Asgard could something be so beautiful. He held it up until we were looking at each other through it, and the brown of his eyes appeared more like a dazzling amber. “It is customary to give these to the one we love, to show our affection.”

“It’s stunning.”

I ran my hand over the dazzling leaves, seeing how they shimmered as they caught the light. It was a headpiece befitting the gods.

When I glanced back up, Ve was chewing on his lip. “I know we are still new to this. To each other,”

he corrected. “And you don’t have to accept.”

“I love it.”

I nodded to affirm him. “It’s more beautiful than Odin’s sword.”

His grin twisted. “I know how much you like your blades.”

He traced a finger along the two stems of leaves. “The two colors represent two lives, tied together. To hold each other, support one another, and care for each other through life.”

He lifted it above my head, and set the laurel down upon my hair. Then he stared at me as if seeing me for the first time. Slowly, he smiled. “You continue to take my breath away, every single day, until my heart beats for nothing but you.”

The words took my breath away, and I stared back at him. “Without you at my side, I wouldn’t have survived a day here,”

I whispered. “Thank you.”

In reply, he tilted my chin up and kissed me, in the presence of the gods, until I’d managed to forget every other insane part of what today had brought and think only of the perfect person in my arms.

When we separated, I spotted his móoir, Ase, watching from behind him.

Ve’s eyes were trained on something behind me. “My friends just arrived,”

he said. “We can greet them, then the rest of my time is yours.”

“You go,”

I said, releasing his hand. “I think I should stay.”

He followed my gaze to his móoir, and let out a low whistle. “You sure?”

“I’ve got this,”

I said softly, and let him go.

As he walked away, Ase approached. She was dressed in blue and silver, with silk sashes tangled with light armor, and leather bands around her arms to show a strength I hadn’t realized before. A slow shiver spread through me as she approached, and she grinned as if she saw it.

I held my ground. She was not my enemy.

As she neared, she reached a hand to touch the laurel on my head. “Did he tell you what it means?”

I replied in a gentle tone, so she would know that I sought a friendship with her, not ill wishes. “Unity.”

“Unity beyond death,”

Ase corrected. “It means he’d give up his life for you, and marks his intent that upon death, he be joined in Valhalla at your side, bonded forever. That whatever his fate is, it forever be tied to yours.”

She brushed a finger along the laurel leaves, then trailed her finger down to stroke through my hair, looking at me as if seeing me for the first time. A hint of warmth spread through her expression. “The laurel leaves are not given lightly.”

She wore some, given by Erik. Frigg wore one as well. As I looked around, only a few others wore the laurel, marking our heads like crowns. Now I knew how proudly I should wear this. I owned only a few possessions, but now counted this as most prized amongst them all. I’d keep it forever. It explained why he’d been nervous when presenting it to me, and my heart warmed at the gesture.

“I don’t accept this lightly,”

I told her. When she had asked me before if I cared for Ve, I told her the truth. That was yesterday, and though a day had passed, it felt as if everything had changed. She had to have known Ve hadn’t returned last night, and while nothing illicit occurred, the night had changed our entire relationship.

It was true now. It was sacred. It was everything to me.

She smiled, and it was the first true smile I’d gotten from her. “I owe you an apology,”

she said. Her thumb traced a line along her glass, but her eyes were firmly on me. I saw much of Ve in them. “I have not welcomed you in as your móoir would have wanted me to. Come, let us walk.”

She held an arm, and I placed my hand through it, allowing her to lead me over paths lined with dainty flowers, the action clearly showing anyone who watched that I had her approval. I wondered if that’s why she did it. “Your móoir broke many hearts before binding herself to your faoir, did you know that?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know many things about Rava, other than she was close with Ase and had planned my engagement with her. Or, planned Astrid’s engagement. My stomach coiled.

“Well, she did,”

Ase went on. “Rava was a force to be reckoned with, and not many could. She kept her heart close, but never men, breaking hearts like they were nothing.”

Each time someone mentioned Rava, I felt as if I was stealing something from Astrid by hearing about her móoir as if she were mine. But this was the first time someone had said something unkind. Yet with the next beat, Ase placed a hand over mine. “She was my best friend, and I loved her, but when you showed up that night…”

she sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “You look just like Rava. And I feared you’d break my son’s heart without looking back.”

We passed another row of tables and turned in time to go up another, letting the breeze cool my forehead and, in turn, ease my worries. Ase’s mind was changing about me. She was letting me in.

“I have no intention of hurting Ve,”

I told her. Though I’d said it yesterday, she seemed to truly believe me now. “I will guard his heart with my life.”

She faced me fully, holding our hands between us. “Even if you don’t, I was still wrong. You had no one here, and I should have welcomed you into the family.”

She stopped. Over her shoulder, I saw Ve watching us with tentative joy on his face. “You have my son’s heart,”

Ase said, drawing my eye back to hers. “And now you have mine. Welcome to the family, Ruin.”

The wrong name was a bitter reminder that none of this was real. I could never join her family because I was mortal, but I allowed her to hug me anyway and pretended it was all I wanted.

Because, right now, it was all I wanted.

“Thank you,”

I breathed, holding tight until she let go. Her eye went right to Ve, already coming our way.

“He’ll never leave you alone for too long,”

she said with a laugh. “But to have his full attention is a special thing.”

I knew the love of Viking parents, but suspected the love of Asgardian parents was something else entirely. For we spent our lives afraid of losing those around us, while they spent theirs in peace. It bred something else—an unhindered warmth—and now that warmth was shared with me.

She passed my hand to Ve. “Enjoy your feast.”

Ve watched as she walked away, moving his hand to wrap around my waist. “What was that?”

I studied his móoir. “Bonding,”

I said. “And she told me about the laurel. Unity beyond death?”

He reddened. “I didn’t want to seem forward.”

“It wasn’t,”

I quickly said. I gazed at my fiancé, the one who’d thrown himself in front of a wolf to save me. The one who’d sent me a wool when I was cold. The one who healed me twice over. The one who was risking himself to fight for my sister because he knew what she means to me. The one who always felt safe. “I’d give you unity beyond death too.”

He kissed me then. His hand against the small of my back, my fingers in his hair, his lips soft against mine, and everything tasting like perfection.

The sudden draw of a trumpet clashed through the air, breaking us apart and dropping the temperature of the day until my skin prickled. My mood darkened. I guessed what it meant.

Over the knoll to the west, a guard marched, leading our champions in.

First came, true to his name, first—still sending fear through me at his sheer size.

Slowly, we drifted to find seats, everyone silent as the champions continued to appear.

They all wore the same grim expression like they marched into battle today, all clad in leathers and straps, with empty sheaths at their sides.

We rested in view of the city, where the real fight would take place, and I didn’t miss how each of their eyes flicked that way, scoping it out.

I didn’t blame them.

I’d done the same.

Checked for which roofs were flat and would provide proper hiding space, which alleys opened to which streets, and the most direct path to a barrel of weapons.

Their table was set so their backs would be to the city, like a great shadow looming behind them.

When a girl came over the knoll, Ve nudged me. “That’s the one I warned you about, Olesea. She’s highly skilled with the long-tipped dagger, but her fame is in her shot. One arrow will take out an enemy, no matter the distance.”

I shuddered. One on one combat was one thing, but to die from an enemy you hadn’t seen was a tricker fate to avoid. This champion had dark red hair, thick limbs, and slanted eyes as if she were forever scoping out threats from those around her. She moved lithely down the path, dragging her seat out sharply to drop herself into it and plop her feet up on the table.

“There she is,”

Ve whispered.

I pried my eyes from Olesea. Tova came over the hill, last in line, wearing tight leather pants and a low scowl, her hair braided into thin pieces and pulled into a high knot. She marched proudly, but with a stiff lip just like she always did when she was frightened. No one else would know it. But the only time she ever braided her hair that intricately was when she was nervous.

I couldn’t blame her. I’d have picked at all my nails so much by now, they’d be bloody.

As Tova came forward, Odin glanced behind him. I hadn’t even realized Trig was here, his ankles tied together and bound to a stake several yards away. He still wore wolf furs and tattered tunics of mortals, with his focus latched on to Tova. She spotted him, and for a moment, I thought she would run to him. He shook his head. She moved on.

The guard at the back paused before Odin. “That one is trouble,”

he whispered, gesturing to Tova. “She almost didn’t come. Said that such an occasion was uncalled for and she would not be attending a funeral dinner.”

That sounded like her. If she knew how many knives Ve intended to slip her today, she would have come much more willingly.

But Odin only grinned. “What changed her mind?”

The guard nodded to Trig. “Reminded her the mortal boy dies if she doesn’t show.”

Odin laughed, but my blood boiled. It’d be tricky to steal Trig out from Odin’s watch, and he would be a harder person to slip out of Asgard. He didn’t move as swiftly.

Odin stood with his cup raised.

“To the mortals. Your sacrifice brings your family honor. May you fight well tomorrow.”

He took a drink. I suppose that was all the speech they would get before they died in the morning. I tried to focus on the plates of food being brought by a long line of servers and not on the hills behind us, but now that the mortals were here, Tova was all I could think about.

Lyres started up, playing a light-hearted melody that sounded like rivers opening up in the spring. Only then did Tova’s eye land on mine.

We held the position for a long moment.

Something in her gaze felt like absolution, like she expected to die tomorrow.

Then her eye lifted to the laurel on my head, and her brow cocked.

That was something I couldn’t explain through eye-conversations.

And it wasn’t important now.

Instead, I turned to Ve and smiled up at him, sliding a hand to his chest where I ran my fingers over the blades he’d be slipping to Tova later, and prayed she got the message. Ve dropped his head to look at me, playing along, until I risked looking back to my sister.

Her gaze had turned away.

“I don’t think she got it,” I said.

“She’ll get it when I put a blade in her hand.”

I hoped he was right. For now, I took in my last chance to inspect the nine other mortals she’d be facing.

“What keeps them from leaving the city?”

“A territorial mark on their backs,”

Ve replied. “We can’t see it, but it’ll kill them if they step outside the boundaries of the fight. No one can run from this.”

I drew in a breath. Tova would never run anyway. I scoped out her competition, my gaze always landing on First. “Did you watch the big one fight?”

Ve peered over his cup. “I did. He’s all strength, and his opponent used speed and agility to combat him.”

“But the opponent died?”

“That’s right. Njal used patience, not strength, against him, playing defense until the opponent was worn out. Then he struck. If Tova is to beat him, she must be patient as well.”

Njal. I preferred to call him First. Better not to give them names, knowing they can’t all survive. Currently, they were all having their goblets filled, each one adorned with a different color gem. When they got to Tova’s emerald one, she put a hand over her goblet. The server looked back over the gods, and tried to fill her cup again. Tova said something and pulled it away, and the server moved on. Olesea watched Tova, taking a sip from her own cup.

Briefly, I debated slipping jravn into the cups of the other mortals. Let the games end now, and Tova win. But there’d be no way to pull off such a thing without clearly interfering, and Odin might just take Tova’s head in retribution. Or mine.

Something slid through the crowds, catching my attention. Aegir was here, wearing a silky blue cloak that lightened into white at the bottom like the foam of the sea, and a smile just as slippery. His sharp gaze landed on me. He winked. I shivered.

“What about Aegir?”

I whispered to Ve, planting a big smile on my face so he wouldn’t see how unnerved I was. “What do you know about him?”

Ve looked up, and stilled. Then he let out a low whistle. “I haven’t seen him leave his ocean palace in a long time. The games must have drawn him.”

Or me. I leaned on my elbow, so I couldn’t see Aegir from the side and he couldn’t see what I was saying. “Is he on good standing with Odin again?”

“Hardly. Most dislike him, and he dislikes them more.”

As he spoke, our plates were set before us—thick steak with a thin sauce and plump grapes. Ve tugged one free to plop in his mouth. “I used to want to visit his lavish palace under the sea,”

he confessed. “I tried everything to get an invite, but my most notable attempt was to make him an apothecary teacup, one that would hide poison if he wished.”

I blinked. “You what?”

He laughed. “I realize now how absurd of a gift that is. But I was ten, and I thought a poison teacup sounded cool, so I made one for him. It didn’t earn me an invitation to the palace, but as far as I know, he has never poisoned anyone with it, so that much is good.”

The thought of Aegir having access to my secrets and poison made me hold my cup closer.

“Don’t worry,”

Ve said with a chuckle. “My gifts have improved. No more apothecary teacups from me.”

“I wouldn’t mind one,”

I said absent-mindedly. I stared at Tova, trying to draw her eye back so I could point to the daggers. “They sound much more exciting than the gifts mortals give.”

“And what gifts do they—stop staring at her, or someone will notice.”

I dropped my gaze. “Sorry.”

I blew out a breath. “How will we get these to her?”

“Eat your food, for starters. Then dance. In the midst of everyone spinning, I’ll slip her the blades and none will be the wiser.”

He tipped his head toward my food. “Eat, or you’ll give us away.”

I begrudgingly took a bite. The food once tasted sweet, but now it settled bitterly on my tongue like a kiss of death, until it was all I could do to swallow. My eye raked over the mortals, over Aegir, over Odin, running scenarios through my mind until I’d plotted out a hundred ways to take them all down, and a hundred more where Tova and I died. It wasn’t long before Ve pushed his plate away and stood up.

“Let’s start the dancing then.”

He held out a hand. “My future bride.”

I stood to take his hand. He called to the musicians to play something happier, and swept me into his arms. That one beckoning was all it took for several other couples to stand as well and join in the dance, each of us forming our own paths through the maze of tables, while Ve and I hoped no one noticed as our path veered closer and closer to the mortals. We hung back before reaching all the way, though. It’d take more than a few other couples to hide us from watchful eyes.

Ve cupped a hand under my chin. “Smile, Rune, and you’ll have so many gods in the palm of your hand, that you’ll be able to hand Tova a dagger in plain sight and none would stop you.”

For him, I did. “I doubt my smile works well on anyone.”

“It works for me.”

The words should make me smile. But my gaze wandered to Tova again. The servant had managed to fill her cup without Tova realizing, and Tova shoved it back. It was smart to decline. The other mortals might not hold the alcohol well, and that alone could bring them down tomorrow. Olesea, for example, seemed particularly taken with the substance. When Tova refused hers, Olesea took the emerald mug and sipped herself.

Over Ve’s other shoulder, I watched as Trig knelt, shifting his attention between Tova and something at Odin’s hip which I suspected to be a dagger. Surely he wasn’t dull enough to go after Odin. I bore my eyes into him, attempting to warn him off, but he never once looked my way.

As the music slowed, I leaned my head against Ve’s chest and inhaled deeply.

“If you weren’t here,”

I whispered. “I don’t know how I’d manage any of this. I’d have driven myself mad by now.”

Or at least, madder. None could claim I was entirely sane at the moment.

“You would have attacked Odin at least three times, that’s for sure.”

I chuckled. That was probably true. And attempted several break-outs for Tova. Perhaps staged my death to find a way home. Without Ve, I wouldn’t be standing half as well as I was now, and yet the closer we got to tomorrow, the more it felt as if everything was falling apart too fast to have hopes of holding it together.

A shrill scream pierced the air. Tova. I whirled around, but it was not she who had yelled, but rather the servant pouring the wine. The girl paled, staring at the ground. Though a crowd gathered quickly, they couldn’t cover Olesea as she lay on the ground, her eyes bloodshot and contorted, her body twisted in ways that would only be comfortable in death.

In her hand was Tova’s goblet.

“Poison,”

someone said. The word settled over us all like a thick curtain.

None missed the scrape of Odin’s chair as he slowly stood, his eye darkening. He scoured it over us. “Who did it?”

The question made the ground rumble, and I was grateful for Ve’s arms around me. “Who poisoned a mortal?”

None spoke. Odin glanced to me, then away like I wasn’t a threat. To be fair, I hadn’t done this.

“This has never happened before,”

Ve spoke into my ear. His words were quick and thrummed with worry. “Gods interfere in the games, but never so outright.”

“What if it was a mortal?”

I whispered back.

A strand of his hair fell loose as he shook his head. Odin’s eye was coming back around, and he waited until it had passed us to speak again. “The mortals are stripped clean upon entry to Asgard, and again each time they are moved. It couldn’t be them.”

Odin pointed a finger. “Bring the servant here.”

It was Aegir who grabbed the servant girl and dragged her before Odin, while she stuck her heels in the dirt to slow the process. She was thrown at his feet.

“Who gave you the poison to kill Olesea?”

“No one.”

She sounded certain, and I knew where the truth rested. She was given poison, but not for Olesea. The cup had belonged to Tova. And from how she had looked over the crowd when Tova wouldn’t drink…

I glanced in the direction I had seen her look. Thor was that way. I happened to know he’d bet on First to win. Maybe he was taking out the main competition? There were hundreds of gods here. Any one of them could have done the deed.

Odin reached to his back and removed an axe. The girl made to run, but it was Frigg who grabbed her arm and held her tight. Odin let the weight of the axe fall into his hands as he spoke again. “Who gave you the poison? Or is it your neck I will be cutting?”

She struggled, but another had come to hold her other arm. She was helpless. Her eyes flashed with fear. “I gave no one poison,”

she insisted. “It wasn’t me.”

“And yet, I do not believe you. Perhaps I have not made myself clear. No one is to interfere with the Champion Games.”

He shouted this at all of us, forcing us to hear him. To see the anger throbbing through his veins. To see what happened when we didn’t listen.

I was listening. I was terrified. But no matter what he did next, I’d still throw myself into that city at the first chance I got.

As I thought that, Odin sighed, his nostrils flaring. “One more chance.”

A scream tore from her throat, one of pure fright. “Mercy, I beg you. It was only one mortal who would’ve died anyway—”

The words were cut off just as her life was.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a cry. Too late, Ve covered my view. He stroked a hand down my hair, bringing his forehead against my own. From behind him, I heard Odin roar.

“There will be no further chance for interference. Stand mortals, and face the city.”

I snapped my head to Tova. Finally, she was looking at me. Her chest beat quickly. We understood at the same moment, and Odin confirmed it with his words. “The Champion Games start now.”

His fist pounding the table was the drum that set them off, and the mortals went running. My vision darkened. Everything I had to do, it needed to be now. Before I could think about what I was doing, I slid a dagger from the belt across Ve’s chest, took aim, and threw it.

It struck with perfect accuracy.