23. Maddy

Chapter 23

Maddy

T he atmosphere in Odin's High Hall is even more intense than it was in the feasting hall. Everyone is moving around, restless energy filling the huge space. I can't help soaking it up, and my stomach squishes nervously as I look for Eldith. Annoyingly, I find myself looking for Kain too, but there are no Valkyrie in the room. Navi is one of the few fae sitting still, in her meditative, cross-legged position. The skittish energy is making it hard for me to concentrate on any one thing, my eyes skipping over the paintings on the walls, the signs over the doors, the decoration on the throne, the whorls in the wood of the staircase, the?—

"Madivia."

The hissed voice is the last one I would expect to hear, and I spin around.

I can't see her… but I'm sure I heard?—

"Over here."

The door to the Scholar's Hold is ajar, and I can see movement in the gap. I hurry over, slipping through the door and staring in surprise at my mother.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the Battleyard?"

"I feigned feminine requirements," she says airily. "I wanted to see you."

She looks beautiful. Her delicate, jewelry-covered hair and regal gown are topped with a thin, pale hooded cloak, but it does nothing to diminish her grand appearance.

I open my mouth, but I'm not sure what to say. Where to even start.

"Have you made friends?" she asks.

It's not the question I'm expecting, but I nod. "A few."

I see the tiniest flash of concern in her eyes. "Any of the nobles' families?"

Suspicion collides with my disappointment. She hasn't asked how I am, or if I need anything. I know what is causing her concern.

"Nobody knows about my power, Mother. Your secret is safe," I say heavily.

"Oh, Madivia, you wound me," she says, touching her chest. "I was merely inquiring as to how well you are equipping yourself here. It's not like strength or magic will keep you safe; you need strong allies. That is how we have fared so well as a court."

Blackmail is how they keep their allies. But I say nothing. In her mind, what she is saying might be true. It might genuinely be her way of caring.

Her eyes dart over my clothes. "These are new? "

"They were Brynhild's. Did you bring me any of my clothes?"

Something that might be guilt crosses her face. "No, I didn't know we could bring you things."

I shrug. "No, you probably can't." It wouldn't have stopped me trying, though.

"Where is your staff?"

"Destroyed. In an accident."

This time, real concern shows on her face clearly. "What kind of accident?"

"Someone here melted it."

"Melted?"

"A fire-fae."

"The Valkyrie murderer with no wings?" she whispers.

"No. Inga. Another rook."

"Oh." She touches a delicately painted fingernail to her lip. "So, you have no magic at all now?"

For a moment, I think about trying to use some. But I'm moments from the strength display, and I don't want to risk messing anything up.

"I am learning a new magic. Valkyrie magic," I say evasively instead.

"Oh. And it is not affecting your… other powers?"

"Not yet."

"Madivia, we don't have much time, and as a princess of the Ice Court, you are still bound to us."

I frown. Where's she going with this? "Yes. Valkyrie still belong to their courts," I say.

"Exactly. Now, the new King of the Gold Court has just elevated a human to a powerful position in court." She barely manages to stop her lip curling. I bite the inside of my cheek.

Ah. I know exactly where this is going.

"Could you just take a moment to see if you have any information on the human's clan?"

My mother is not interested in my health, progress, or happiness. She just wants to use my memory magic.

I want to say no. It would be the first time.

But will that make things worse with Freydis? Will it look like I'm turning my back on my family?

A gong sounds from the throne room, and it's followed by a shout.

"Rooks, let's go!" Harald's bellow saves me the decision. My mother's face falls as I step backward, toward the door.

"I must go. Goodbye, Mother."

I don't give her time to reply. I slip through the door and merge with the throng of rooks making their way out of the main doors.

Anger and disappointment are trying to claw up my chest, but I draw hard on Sarra's no-horseshit attitude from before. I don't have time for emotion today. I have to be a warrior. And besides, I shouldn't be surprised. It's the only relationship I've ever had with my mother. Why would that have changed now?

Because I'm on a stage with twenty-one stronger, faster, more powerful fae battling for glory?

My apprehension grows with every step we take toward the Battleyard, and it's only slightly calmed by Eldith and Henrik falling into step beside me.

"What do you think we're going to have to do?" asks Roge, Henrik's gold-fae friend.

"I don't know, but I hope it has to do with blades and not magic," Henrik mutters.

"It wouldn't surprise me if it was a team event," says Eldith, and Roge scoffs.

"Not a chance! They need to show us all off."

"Maybe an obstacle course?" I say, and all three of them look at me. "I saw some of the things the Valkyrie took over to the Battleyard the other day, and it would be a good way to test us all individually," I admit.

"That would be good," says Henrik, rubbing his hands together.

"Hmm," says Eldith doubtfully. "I think they'll make us fight."

When we reach the sandy arena, my mind finally stills at the scene we're met with.

"You were right," breathes Roge.

"Wow, they have been busy," Henrik mutters.

Eldith nods.

The arena is unrecognizable, filled with contraptions and obstacles so numerous and spread out that I can't work out what each thing does.

"Keep moving!" calls Valdis, and we climb a small set of steps onto a raised wooden platform with railings at the side of the ring. Before I can start to make sense of what's before us, Sigrun swoops over our heads, doing a lap around the rings of raised seats that have been set up around the Battleyard. There are probably a hundred spectators, I guess.

"Welcome, rooks."Sigrun's voice magically echoes through the air."And honored guests! You are here to bear witness to the progress the elite of the five courts has to offer the gods as their own personal army. Let me show you what the rooks will be asked to endure today," she calls, banking toward the left side of the arena. She gestures at a stack of rounded boulders all a little larger than an apple. "The rooks must collect a boulder and make it through all the obstacles with it intact. If they lose it, they must start over."

Eldith and I look at each other before Sigrun continues.

"First is Heimdall's Bridge."

From our raised vantage point, I see that she is hovering over an area covered in sharp shards—what appears to be broken glass—in front of a tall post with five small sacks hanging from sticks at various heights. "Using whatever projectile they like, rooks must shoot all five targets to lower the planks and cross safely," she says, then takes her spear and shoots a beam of light at the top sack on the pole. A board shimmers into being out of nowhere over part of the glass-covered sand.

She flies over the rest and gestures at the next obstacle, which is simply a ten-foot-long carpet with barriers made from large sandbags on each side. "Then we have the Gauntlet. One randomly selected rook from each strain of combat must be bested. So, that's one archer, one blade fighter, and one glima fighter."

Shit. Please don't let me get Inga, Orgid, or Navi, I pray. Most of the rooks here could best me in combat, but those three would actually try to do me some damage.

"After that," Sigrun calls, flying on, "we have my personal favorite. Fenrir's Leap." It's a raised wooden pool, only a foot off the ground, but I can see from here that it is filled with something black and steaming. Four large logs are bobbing around in the thick liquid. "Rooks must make their way over the hot tar using nothing but the logs. This is the only obstacle where magic is not allowed. Drop the boulder, and you're starting again."

My balance is okay, but not exceptional, and the idea of falling into hot tar does not appeal.

"Lastly, we have the Serpents' Crawl," Sigrun says, moving over a shallow trench that snakes its way all the way past the other obstacles, back to the pile of boulders at the start. It is filled with a vivid green liquid and covered with a shining metal net adorned with glinting barbs. "Rooks must crawl the length of the Battleyard to return their boulder. The fastest to complete the course will receive a reward from me, personally."

She turns in the air to face us on our stand. "Rooks. There are few rules here, but I do not expect you to do any lasting harm to your opponents in the gauntlet. After today, formation fighting will begin and you must learn to work together to defend Yggdrasil from peril." She raises one perfect brow. "However, this is a competition. Don't go easy on your friends. Try to win. The spoils will be worth it. And so will the glory." Her voice gets louder. "Honor is the end of all things, and if you wish to show these fae here—and more importantly, Featherblade—what you are capable of, then today is the day. Be strong, be valiant, be fierce. Win!"

The rooks explode into clapping, myself included. For a few minutes, in the wake of her powerful words, I feel like I can win.

Unfortunately, I'm unable to hang on to the feeling for very long.