Chapter 14

DAELLA

We found the lake beyond a copse of trees on the other side of the village. Everyone else had beaten us there, and it felt like the entire village had spilled out of their packed homes to bask in the sun along the shore. Hundreds of spectators milled through merchant tents scattered across the hill, including the Traveling Tavern, where Lilia was already busy with a long line of patrons.

Six other boats of various shapes and sizes were lined up on the bank where the contestants were gathered. A couple of them were rafts, though they were much larger than ours. Some were proper boats. Gregor stood with crossed arms sizing up the competition. His boat was twice as large as any others and looked far sturdier than anticipated.

“He couldn’t have built that in one day,” I muttered to Rivelin as we approached the lake.

“You’re right. But he’ll have made sure there’s no way to prove it. That’s how he wins.”

“Shouldn’t the magic be able to tell? If you cheat, why would it give you the win?”

“The magic isn’t what gives you the win,” he said. “It’s everyone else, all these spectators. If they vote him the winner, he’s the winner. The only way he’s out is if he fails to finish a task, breaks a village law, or gets caught cheating.”

I frowned. “So even if we do better than him, he could win on popularity alone.”

“The last thing Gregor can call himself is popular.”

Rivelin carried the raft to the end of the line and deposited the mangled thing on the sand. A flash of guilt went through me when I saw how small it looked compared to the others. I truly had done a terrible job.

Hofsa whispered in from the crowd, wearing another glorious gown that flowed around her long, lean legs. This time, it was a blue as brilliant as the sky. As she approached the contestants, the roar from the spectators dropped to a pregnant silence. Everyone stopped what they were doing to divert their full attention to the fourteen of us readying ourselves for the Games. Seven contestants. Seven assistants.

A nervous tingle lit up my insides. Rivelin had explained these challenges were just for fun and that no one took it too seriously, but there was lightning in the air. I could feel the scorch of it, even through the thick oilcloth coating my skin.

Hofsa clapped and motioned to the fourteen of us. “The Vatnor Trial is officially upon us and will launch this year’s Midsummer Games. Contestants, including their assistants, must board their homemade ships and sail to the other side of the lake where the water meets the woods. There, they will hunt for one of the many flags we’ve left there for you to find.” She paused and smiled. “When the drumbeat sounds, go.”

The roar of the cheering spectators washed over me. Swallowing, I grabbed one side of the raft and helped Rivelin tug it closer to the edge of the crystalline blue water. My heart thundered; tension spiked me like a deadly spear. As soon as I climbed on that raft, there truly was no turning back. When we were out on the water, I would be fully submerged in this task, and I’d have no choice but to see it through. It wasn’t as if I could swim back.

Rivelin seemed to read my mind. He leaned forward and cupped my elbow in a reassuring grip. “You ready?”

“No.” I swallowed again. “So whoever is fastest wins, right?”

“Not necessarily. If someone doesn’t play fair, they won’t vote for him to win,” he replied in a low voice, his gaze drifting over my shoulder. I knew who he was looking at: Gregor. If anyone would try to shove me in the water, it’d be him. Possibly because I hadn’t exactly been…polite, shall we say?

“Does he know about my condition?” I whispered.

“The entire world knows. Orcs like you are things of legend, Daella.”

I didn’t want to be a thing of legend. I just wanted to get through this trial without having a rush of water close in over my head. Swimming had never been my strong point. Yes, Isveig had trained me to paddle in the sea, but I’d never been particularly good at it. Even with the salt protecting me, I’d never been able to fully relax. I could manage for a few moments at a time but that was about it.

A thread of silence wound through the waiting contestants and their assistants. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck and into my oilcloth as the sun beat down on my head. I flared my nostrils, breathing in the collision of scents all around me. The sweetness of the flowers blooming along the bank of the lake. The intoxicating scent of Lilia’s brew from the hands of a pixie only a few feet away from us. The freshly baked bread from one of the market tents. I let it all fill me up until nothing else existed, least of all my fear.

It was a trick I’d learned a long time ago, every time Isveig sent me on a quest I did not wish to complete. Scents soothed me. They steadied me. They made me feel like I could take on any enemy, and win.

Just not Isveig. Never Isveig.

One day I will be free of him.

The drumbeat sounded, and everyone on the beach sprang into action. Rivelin grabbed the raft and shoved it out onto the water. A second later, he wrapped his arms around my waist and hauled me into the air. A squeak shot from my parted lips.

“What are you doing? This is not part of the plan.” I swatted at his arm.

He kept his grip on me, wading into the water and shoving the raft further out with his boot. “I knew you’d argue if I told you about it.”

“This is ridiculous.” Still, it was keeping me dry. He pushed the raft a little further, and then somehow flipped in midair, violently plopping the both of us on the wood. My teeth snapped together, but only a small rush of water spread over the logs. It receded just as quickly, barely skimming my trousers.

But only a moment later, the raft started bucking around like a wild horse as Rivelin tried to find the right position. I found myself with a death grip on his thighs. His strong hands enveloped my waist, and he tugged me closer. My backside slid right into the center of his crossed legs.

My heart fluttered through my chest. I tried to focus on anything other than the way his muscles shifted against me, the way his strong, powerful body pressed against my back. And I tried to shove away the thought that roared through my mind.

This was not entirely unpleasant.

All my life, I’d been on my own. I’d had to depend on myself. No one else. I liked it that way. Anytime I’d ever trusted someone, he’d betrayed me. Or used me. In Isveig’s case, he’d done both. But the way Rivelin had formed this protective cocoon around me to shield me from the lake’s water…felt nice. Even if he was only doing it so we could win.

“You going to help?” He barked the words and shoved an oar into my hands, breaking me free of my ridiculous reverie.

I blinked and dipped the large end of the oar into the lake, though I truly had no clue what I was doing. Rivelin used the rear paddle to steer us in the right direction while I put my brute force behind my row. Much to my surprise, this tactic seemed to work. Our little raft aimed right toward the opposite bank, where several deer scampered away from the rocks and vanished deep into the woodland. A handful of trees seemed to sprout from the very water itself, their reflections elongating their spindly forms and the kaleidoscope of orange, red, and green leaves.

It was a beautiful sight. Except for the fact every other boat but one was ahead of us.

I narrowed my eyes and rowed faster. Gregor was right at the front. In moments, he’d reach the shore far before everyone else. His assistant was a shadow demon, long and lean with shoulders the size of my head. He sat in front of the boat, rowing furiously, while Gregor lounged in the back barely breaking a sweat.

With a low growl, I paddled even faster, but we barely skimmed across the lake, even as my arms began to ache and the sweat thickened beneath the clammy oilcloth.

Rivelin leaned forward, and his breath whispered across the exposed skin on my cheek. “Keep rowing like that, and you’re going to flip us over.”

“We can’t let that bastard win,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Even if he wins this one, that doesn’t mean he’ll win the whole thing.” But despite his words, there was a sense of resignation in his tone, like he’d known the second we got on this raft that we’d never win. All the other contestants had split away from us almost immediately. I craned my head over my shoulder. The boat behind us must have broken just after leaving the shore. Nina, the purple-winged pixie, was paddling back to the festival while her assistant was trying—and failing—to rid the boat of water. They wouldn’t even finish the task.

“See?” Rivelin said in a too-calm voice. “We won’t come last.”

“I don’t know why you’re not more upset about this. This is your competition. Don’t you want to win?”

“More than anything,” he said quietly, his words nearly drowned out beneath the rush of my oar through the water. “But right now, I want to focus on getting through this without you getting hurt. So just row, Daella. I’ll take care of the rest.”

My breath stilled in my lungs. There it was again. That strange, intoxicating feeling that someone else besides my own damn self was looking out for me. But the strangest part of it all was who it was coming from. I shouldn’t like it. And I shouldn’t embrace it. Even now, I could smell the hint of dragon on him.

Still, I kept rowing, my eyes narrowed on the boats ahead. After a few moments passed by, Gregor reached the shore and sent his shadow demon assistant off into the woods to find the flag. It didn’t take long for the rest of the contestants to arrive behind him. Most left their assistants to wait while they dashed through the towering oaks.

By the time we reached the bank ourselves, one of the contestants—Viggo, the fire demon—had already returned with his flag. He leapt into his boat as his dwarf assistant shoved them back into the water. And then they were off. Gregor shouted obscenities in the air, his pale face growing redder as he watched.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Rivelin murmured beneath his breath. “Focus on the shore and get ready to jump.”

“Jump,” I repeated, attempting—and failing—to keep my voice light.

“You’re going to aim for that rock and get off the raft as soon as you can. I’ll get in the water and drag the raft the rest of the way to the shore myself. You can keep guard of it from the rock.”

I nodded. “All right. I’ll do my best.”

“I don’t doubt you for a moment,” he said, his tone no longer sharpened by his usual gruffness. A little flutter went through my chest.

This part would be the hardest for avoiding the water. Everyone else could leap over the side of the boat and slosh onto shore. Rivelin would have been able to do that, too, if we weren’t on a raft only big enough for one of us. As it was, if he got off, I was going with him, whether I liked it or not.

But I was Daella Sigursdottir, for fuck’s sake. I’d survived the Elding when few did. Throughout my time working for Isveig, I’d fought a score of armed shadow demons, and I’d beaten every last one single-handedly. And far before those days, I’d hidden in the rubble when Isveig had attacked Fafnir. Many had suffocated. Others had been scorched.

I had survived all that and still come out fighting. I could survive a sprinkle of fates-damned lake water.

I put all my strength behind the next row, and that final push brought the front of the raft within a few meters of the rock. As I pushed up onto my feet, Rivelin gave me a tiny nudge, hand splayed across my backside. Heat stormed through my belly, but I forced myself to focus on the rock. And then I leapt.

My boots collided with the stone, and the force of it snapped my teeth together. A few feet down the bank, Gregor guffawed, clearly taking pleasure in my clumsy dismount. I turned to give him a piece of my mind, but Rivelin tossed me the rope that would keep the boat anchored to me.

“Hold on to this,” he said, turning toward the bank, but then he paused for a moment to catch my gaze. “Don’t rise to his bait.”

And then he was off, moving so fast that he was nothing more than a blur of silver amidst the dense woods. As soon as he was out of sight, I tightened my hold on the rope and settled down on the rock cross-legged. I could feel four pairs of eyes on me, and I could only imagine what the other contestants must be thinking.

Daella, the intruder from Fafnir sent here by the horrid emperor, had completely ruined any chance Rivelin had of winning this challenge. They would probably all clap me on the back when this was over and thank me for my service, because I’d pretty much handed one of them a win—if they could manage to catch up to Viggo.

But out of all of them, I felt Gregor’s stare the most, like his eyes were made of the lake water itself, and he was trying to burn two holes right through my skin. Rivelin’s words echoed in my mind. Don’t rise to his bait.

Shifting my attention to the woods, I blocked him out, hoping against all hopes that Rivelin would beat the others back. In the canopy overhead, songbirds danced and chirped out a tune that sounded like an ancient song I’d heard all my life—a call to those above who watched down on us all. The Old Gods. The warm and earthy scents of birch and cedar curled toward me on a soft breeze that ruffled the ends of my ponytail hanging across the back of my neck. It was so soothing, so peaceful here.

Of course Gregor had to ruin it.

“Say, Kari,” he barked out so loudly it made me jolt. “You and your assistant, you were the first boat here after me, weren’t you?”

“Yes…” Kari said, frowning. “What’s your point?”

“That means he’s the most likely runner to return next, don’t you think?”

“No, that’s probably your assistant. You lot got here first. So he has a head start,” Kari said. I watched the exchange out of the corner of my eye, careful not to let Gregor see I was paying attention. Kari was clever, Rivelin had said, and I could tell she was choosing her words carefully, all the while trying to sound calm.

Unfortunately, her white-knuckled grip on her oar and her flattened lips caught Gregor’s attention just as they did mine. Clever but not good at masking her emotions, it turned out. Gregor’s boat creaked as he shifted forward. “Something wrong, Kari?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just leave me out of whatever it is you’re plotting,” she said tightly.

There was a flash of movement in the corner of my eye. Water splashed.

I finally turned toward them. Gregor had launched into the water and was wading through the marshy grass toward Kari’s smaller boat. He had an oar in his hands. So did Kari. Weapons, I realized.

The two other boats had been quietly and slowly easing away from the rest of us. They were both sliding behind a cluster of weeds that would hide them from view until the others returned. Smart move. I, on the other hand, knew that if I slid onto the raft, it would be like setting off an explosion. Even as Gregor sloshed toward Kari, I swore he was keeping one eye locked on me.

“Just stay back, Gregor,” Kari said. “I don’t want to fight you. I never have.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going to ask the island to give you if you win?”

Kari didn’t answer. Only the continued slosh of water kept an unbearable silence at bay, but that wouldn’t last much longer. In another moment or two, Gregor would reach Kari’s boat.

“No need to answer,” Gregor snarled. “I already know you want to ask it to get rid of me.”

Kari’s hands trembled as she gripped her oar tighter. “I can’t do that. No harm to anyone else, eh? That’s one of the island’s rules. Even if I want to get rid of you—and I’ve never said I do—it wouldn’t give me that.”

“Get rid of.” He moved forward. Slosh. “Not kill.” Another slosh. “I bet it would give it to you. The island hates me.”

“I don’t think an island can hate someone.”

“Well, maybe that’s just you.” He grinned. “Since I made your sister fall madly in love with me. Too bad redheads aren’t my type.”

Kari growled and swung her oar at Gregor’s head. Gregor whirled to respond with a blow of his own, as if he’d anticipated the move. He dodged to the left and swung down and to the right before bringing the paddle up to slam into Kari’s face. Blood sprayed; Kari’s gurgling scream rent the peaceful quiet.

She fell, her back punching the water. Shouts of anger echoed from the far shore, where spectators were watching.

I jumped to my feet. “What the fuck? You can’t do that. It’s against the rules.”

“She came for me first. I was just defending myself, now wasn’t I?” he asked with a sneer, wiping the blood spray off his face with the back of his sleeve. “Now sit back down, orc. Or I’ll defend myself from you next.”

“Yeah? Go on, then. Let’s see how you fare against someone who actually knows how to fight.” I spread my lips into a wicked smile, flashing my elongated canines. I didn’t have tusks, but close enough.

He narrowed his gaze as I stood to my full height, throwing back my shoulders. I knew I looked absolutely ridiculous wearing all this oilcloth on a hot, humid day, but I didn’t care much about appearances right now. Let him underestimate me. It would only make his defeat that much sweeter.

He must have read the deadly glint in my eye and realized going up against Isveig’s “infamous murk” would only end in pain—his pain—because he started sloshing his way back over to his boat.

“Go on and attack me if you want,” he called over his shoulder, “but you’ll only get Rivelin disqualified since I didn’t provoke you. Something tells me that’s the last thing you want.”

I snarled at his back, then eyed the water. Kari still hadn’t resurfaced yet, and blood spilled across the lake like red paint. My heart kicked my ribs.

“She’s going to die if you don’t do something,” I said.

Gregor shrugged and launched himself into his boat, water jetting onto his seat. I dropped the rope and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Fine. Someone else?” I called out to the others hidden behind the weeds, but they were too far away now to do a damn thing.

No, you can’t!my mind screamed at me.

But no matter how many Draugr I’d tracked down, no matter how many throats I’d cut over the years, and no matter how many monsters I’d slain for the empire, I’d never harmed or turned away from an innocent when they needed help. Even if I suspected some of the people in this village of dealing in dragon magic, I didn’t have proof. There was no way to be certain they were all involved. And Kari did not smell of dragon.

I closed my eyes. “Fuck.”

And then I jumped.

The first thing I felt was the cold and the way it squeezed the air in my lungs like a fist was wrapped tight around my chest. For a brief moment, I opened my eyes and peered through the crystal blue, marvelling at the lush green of the cattails and the reeds, the coating of algae along the lake bed, and the schools of orange fish darting away from the disturbance.

And then, there—Kari floated ominously a few feet away, her eyes closed, her blood staining the blue a deep, dark red, the same color as her hair.

I started splashing toward her. That was when the pain hit me like a piercing rod.

I screamed, and bubbles swarmed my face. Still, I kept swimming toward Kari, my determination numbing the pain. I reached her a moment later, grabbed her arm, and tugged.

My lungs ached along with every inch of my skin. Black spots stormed across my vision.

I blindly swam, shoving aside thick pocketfuls of reeds. My mind warred against me with wave after wave of unyielding pain. It felt like I was on fire now.

My boots hit dirt and rock. Shuddering, I crawled forward, dragging Kari behind me. We rose from the depths of the lake, emerging on the bank where Rivelin had darted into the woods to hunt for the flag.

Water dripped into my eyes, blurring my sight. I pulled Kari up beside me and tried to find the strength within myself to check her breathing, but the scalding pain knocked me sideways. My body hit the ground.

A strong hand palmed my cheek. Steam hissed. “Fates be damned.”

And then the darkness took me.