Chapter 6

Jostein held up his hands, quieting the roaring crowd. The hush that followed was pregnant, heavy, and somehow louder than the cheers.

"Now that you know what's at stake, we shall begin," Jostein intoned, looking at each contestant in turn, his eyes alight with excitement, "I hope to see some good efforts today. Stand beside your stones and prepare yourselves. When the dwarven bell tolls, race your bloody hearts out."

Pulling a deep breath into my lungs, I bent my knees and placed my trembling hands on my stone. All around me, the other contestants did the same. A long stretch of silence followed, tension building like a powerful drumbeat. And then the bell tolled.

An explosion of grunts followed as the contestants heaved the rocks into their arms and began stumbling forward across the sandy ground. I, on the other hand, took a different approach. I'd already determined there was no way in fate's name I could carry the damn thing. Instead, I clenched my teeth and shoved it a little. Might as well appear as if I were trying, at least until the others crossed the finish line.

The rock inched forward in a slight roll.

My breath puffed from my lungs, and I shoved again. Once more, the rock rolled a little closer toward the finish line. Not that close was a good descriptor. I was still yards away.

I pushed again. And again. My arms ached from the effort, though I was using the strength in my legs to do most of the work. After a good ten rolls, sweat glistened on my brow, and I glanced up to see I'd made it a quarter of the way across the arena.

Huh.

Many of the other contestants were already halfway by now, but a few were behind me, surprisingly enough. Galinn and Tormund were only steps from the finish line, neck and neck. The crowd's cheers were thunderous. Everyone was on their feet, stomping and screaming and waving banners in the air, the colors signifying who they supported. I was green and gold. To my surprise, I spotted a few here and there.

I shoved the stone again with a bit more effort than before. It rolled forward, tumbling at least five feet ahead of me. Eyes widening, I glanced down at the floor, noticing the almost imperceptible slope toward the finish line. My heart pounded, but I forced my face to remain as defeated as before. Hopefully, no one behind me had noticed the slope. So far, I was the only one rolling the stone. Pride kept the others from doing anything other than hauling the damn thing around and straining beneath all that weight.

As nonchalantly as possible, I palmed the rock and shoved it again, releasing a loud groan to make it seem like I was struggling.

The stone tumbled forward. Smiling, I shoved it again, and it kept rolling forward, gaining momentum with every push.

I passed Knut on my left. He whooped and hollered, urging me on.

The crowd roared with thunderous approval. I glanced around the stone, expecting to see Tormund or Galinn rushing to victory, but…no, they'd already finished. They stood behind the black line and lounged against their rocks, and they were watching—me.

Tormund locked eyes with me and smiled.

My gut twisted. Cheeks heating, I shoved the rock again, catching up to one of Tormund's shadow demon friends. The crowd's cheers had grown deafening. I couldn't even hear myself breathe, let alone think. Sweat drenching the back of my neck and hands aching from scraping the rock, I ground my teeth and gave the stone one last push.

It tipped over, and over, and over again, shuddering to a stop just behind the finish line. I jogged after it. My feet passed over the line. The crowd went wild.

I bit back a smile, but then I couldn't help my damn self. My lips widened, a strange surge of pride lifting my chest. Grinning, I looked up and scanned the arena stands. Everyone was on their feet. Green and gold banners whipped through the air. And even though there were nine other contestants, and even though I hadn't won—five others had finished before me—I knew deep in my gut that all this screaming…it was for me.

Little old me.

Tormund sauntered over and stuck out his hand. "Well done, Astrid."

The light in my heart suddenly died. I ignored his offered hand. "Don't patronize me, Tormund. I'm assuming you won?"

"I did." A pause. "But I mean what I said. Well done on your finish. Lots of the dwarves bet you'd come last. Looks like I was right, and they were wrong."

"You were right—wait what?" I asked, stumbling over my words.

"I bet you'd come middle of the pack," he said, smiling now. "You just made me a lot of gold coin."

He looked at me like he expected some kind of thanks, like I should be grateful he'd believed in me—as half-hearted as it was. He'd bet on me? For middle of the pack? Who did he think he was? My scowl deepened. He thought he was the bloomin' winner of the first trial, that was who. And to make matters more annoying, he'd succeeded in his egotistical mission.

At least he didn't think I'd fail miserably, like everyone else.

Pressing my lips together, I shoved that thought aside.

"Congratulations," I said tightly.

He laughed. "Your nose does this funny little scrunching thing when you're annoyed. It's kind of cute. Want a cut of my winnings for betting on you?"

"No, I do not want a cut of your winnings," I said, throwing up my hands in exasperation and very pointedly ignoring his comment about my nose. "I want you to leave me out of your games."

He leaned in close, and his lips brushed my ear. A shiver unexpectedly coursed through my body. "Just take your win for what it is, love. The only person you need to beat is your past self, and you did that in spades. Because the girl I met yesterday never would have come sixth. In fact, I don't think she would have even tried."

I bristled, narrowing my eyes. Through gritted teeth, I said, "That's rich coming from you. You wouldn't be happy coming sixth."

"I need the Everstone. I know you think you do, too. But you don't. Not really."

"Don't you dare tell me what I do and don't need." My voice echoed through the cavernous space. It was then I realized the crowd had quietened. It was so silent in the arena now that you could hear a sunstone drop. Or—much to my intense embarrassment—Tormund and I arguing about which one of us deserved the Everstone more.

Tormund leaned back, a hiss escaping through clenched teeth, as if he'd noticed the silence at the same moment I had. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, he felt like the only person in this godsforsaken mountain who understood everything I was feeling right now. The embarrassment, yes. But also the defiance against anyone who might laugh at said embarrassment. And the slight hope that the other contestants might get rattled by our combined stubbornness.

But there was something else I noticed. That spark brightened his eyes again as his lips twisted into a grin. I couldn't stop myself from grinning right back. The entire arena was watching us, collective breath held as they waited to see what we'd do next.

So, with that in mind, I stuck out my hand. "To putting on a good show."

A chuckle rumbled from his chest. "To entertaining the bloody lot of them."

His fingers tightened around mine. Warmth flooded my skin, despite the cooling shadows that twisted around his body. I swallowed, jumping when the roar of the crowd engulfed us once again. We shook hands. Tormund nodded once, his eyes locked on mine.

I nodded back, though I didn't know what for. I just felt compelled to do it, like something in his gaze had tugged my chin up and then down again. It was why, a moment later, I still held his hand. Because his alluring shadow demon gaze was controlling me. Not for any other reason. Especially not because the warmth of him called to me.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I yanked back my hand and took a step away.

I stumbled right into Galinn's chest, and winced from the hardness of it. Galinn grabbed my arms and pushed me sideways. My feet twisted on the sloped ground. I threw out my hands to catch my fall, but my knees hit the sandy dirt first. Pain lanced through me, as viciously sharp as a knife.

"You cheated," Galinn said, pointing a finger at Tormund's chest.

Ignoring Galinn, Tormund knelt beside me and held out a hand. "You all right?"

I rubbed my knees. "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

Narrowing his eyes, Tormund glared up at Galinn. "You knocked over another contestant. Surely that gets you disqualified."

A deep angry red spread through Galinn's face, but then he looked at me and regret filled his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. "I'm sorry, Astrid. I only meant to move you out of the way."

Jostein bustled over to the three of us, twisting his hands around his beard. "You three are causing quite the commotion." He looked down at where I still sat on the ground. "Astrid, tell me you're fine."

"I'm fine, Jostein. Don't worry, I—"

"Galinn knocked her onto the ground. She seems fine, but he could have really hurt her. I thought that kind of behavior wasn't tolerated." Tormund stood, though he still kept his hand stretched out to me. "I read the rules before entering. No sabotaging other contestants, no outright hostility, and certainly no bodily harm."

Jostein pursed his lips.

"You can't honestly be listening to this stranger," Galinn argued, the red in his face deepening. "He doesn't even belong in this competition in the first place. And he cheated!"

"I did not cheat," Tormund countered.

"You used your shadow demon power."

"No one said I couldn't."

I heaved a sigh, rolling my eyes. This was getting ridiculous now.

"He's right," Jostein cut in, stepping between them. "Accident or no, you very clearly shoved Astrid hard enough to make her fall. I'm afraid I have to disqualify you from the competition."

And as if the God of Thunder were listening to Jostein's very words, the metal fist pendant vanished from Galinn's tunic. Dumbstruck, he stood there, his mouth hanging open. I felt a little dumbstruck myself. Jostein had never disqualified someone before, and certainly not the winner for five years in a row.

Suddenly, the competition was wide open. I glanced over at Tormund. His smug smile told me everything I needed to know.

Eventually, Galinn wandered off and Jostein declared Tormund the winner of the first trial. The applause was more muted than before. There were likely a great deal of people who'd bet a lot of gold on Galinn's win, and they'd already lost it all. I didn't move from my spot on the ground, too busy watching the whole thing play out. No one was paying much attention to me anymore.

When the spectators finally began to leave the stands, Tormund ventured back over and stuck out his hand again. "Would you like some help, or are you going to stay there for the rest of the evening?"

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring his hand. "I know what you did there."

He arched a brow. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You weren't concerned about me, and you don't really care about the rules. But you'd take any opportunity to get rid of the contestant most likely to win."

"I'm the contestant most likely to win," he countered.

"You certainly are now."

Tormund shrugged. "And so what if I saw an opportunity and jumped on it? Do you blame me?"

"You pretended you were concerned for me, so yes. I don't like liars who use others for their own gain."

"You're just annoyed I'm going to win the Everstone. I have need for it, you know."

I folded my arms. "What need?"

He glanced around. There were still several contestants nearby and hundreds of spectators milling around the stands. Dropping his voice to a low murmur, he said, "Not here. Too many people. Come to my camp tonight, and I'll tell you everything you want to know about Tormund Bakke."

"Tempting, but I'm not sure I want to converse with someone who refers to himself in third person."

"I have cake," he offered.

I squinted at him. "All right. Maybe I'll come. But only because I want to know your reason. And I won't stay long."

"You'll find me in the cavern camp near The Wet Beard. See you tonight, Astrid."