Gripping the frozen fire hydrant, I pulled myself into a standing position. My heart ached. Yes, I’d spent my whole life wanting to kill Galin, but he’d also saved my life several times. And now, I felt safe around him. I hungered to learn everything about him. I felt my soul splintering.
Around me, the elves were focused on the single running Vanir, cheering him on. Then, after a few moments, I noticed their shouts rising … they were cheering more wildly. I squinted at the track to see what had them so excited, and my breath caught.
Behind the Vanir, a second figure had appeared, running in great, galloping strides. A massive elf, shirtless, pants shredded and torn. His golden hair streamed behind him.
Somehow, Galin was alive.
The Vanir warrior glanced over his shoulder, then picked up his pace.
“Pity he’s never going to catch up,” said the Night Elf next to me. “Would have been an exciting finish.”
The Vanir raced closer, Galin running behind. With his blood-soaked clothes and his blond hair flowing out behind him, he looked like a rampaging Viking. But I didn’t think he could catch up. I forgot to breathe.
As he moved closer, I realized I recognized this particular Vanir. This was the very fucker who’d thrown the javelin into the air.
I was woozy with blood loss, but my mind became focused on the injustice of the situation. Galin had saved my life. The Vanir had tried to kill me. I needed to give Galin the upper hand, even if it was breaking the rules. Fuck the rules.
I took a step closer, my eyes locked on the Vanir. “Skalei.”
The warrior was twenty yards out. I swayed, balancing on my good leg.
“Fly true,” I whispered.
I flung the blade at the Vanir. He was running, but it slammed into his leg, just as I’d intended, slowing him down. With a scream of pain, he stumbled, clutching at his bicep. I’d been practicing my knife throwing, and it seemed like it was paying off.
I started to smile, but within moments, other Vanir were running for me. From behind, someone punched me hard in the skull. “Cheater!”
“Skalei,” I turned, ready to fight with whatever strength was left in me.
But before I had to land a blow, a shadow spread over me—a massive elf, blocking the sun.
“Get back,” growled Galin.
“The rules were clear!” shouted a Vanir. “In this trial, no thrown projectiles were allowed. She has forfeited her life.”
I stood unsteadily, looking at the Vanir—the Regent himself, his hawk on his shoulder as always. He was pointing a finger at me.
“You want to lecture me on the rules?” Galin’s voice was low and controlled, icy as the winds around us. “You who tried to have this very Night Elf murdered on the practice field.”
“That was an accident—”
“It was not.” Galin’s hand shot out, and he grabbed the hawk.
I stared. What was he doing?
The bird screamed, thrashing in Galin’s grasp. The Vanir were shouting, jostling each other. My leg screamed with pain, but I forced myself to remain upright.
Galin held the bird above his head and chanted in ancient Norse, and magic beamed around him. Screeching loudly, the bird bit and clawed at Galin’s arm, and the air hummed with electricity.
The body of the hawk began to twist and shiver. Its feathers fell away, and Galin laid it down in the snow. Its skin peeled open, and slowly, a woman rose from the pile of feathers and skin. Her gray hair hung in a braid down the back of her gray wool dress. Her lip curled in a snarl, green eyes glaring. Shadows filled crevices in her gaunt, wrinkled face.
Galin pointed. “And here we have the person who directed the spear. A hamrammr. A shape shifter. In the form of a hawk, she tried to kill Ali.”
The hag glared at Galin but didn’t speak.
Thyra shoved her way into the crowd, eyes flashing, “Not just a hamrammr. A seidkona. A witch. The Vanir have been using magic to help them win all along.”
“And so have you,” hissed the seidkona. “Just now, as I was flying above Faneuil Hall, I saw the girl step from a portal. You’ve been cheating, too.”
Thyra turned to me. “Is that true?”
I fell silent. Shit.
Thyra shook with anger, looking like she wanted to lunge through the snow to attack me.
The Vanir were starting to spread out now, slinking away. But King Gorm was moving closer, grinning. “So, both the Night Elves and the Vanir have been cheating.”
Galin shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as snow fell on his bare chest. “Yes. And the High Elves, too. I created the portal.”
“You what!” King Gorm’s fluting voice blared off key.
Galin looked at the night sky. “We all cheated. Seems like it cancels out.”
Silence fell over us.
Finally, Thyra spoke. “I find this acceptable.”
“What about him?” said the Regent, pointing at the man I’d stabbed with Skalei. “If he hadn’t been stabbed, he would have taken the last place. The prince cheated.”
Galin cocked his head. “It seems to me that you’ve had an extra soldier on your side all along.” He pointed to the feathers at the hamrammr’s feet. “That would mean that instead of two hundred and twenty-five elves, two hundred and twenty-six elves may survive this contest. Rounding up, of course.”
The Regent grunted. “Fine.”
“Icy Hel, Galin,” grumbled Gorm, his eyes blazing with rage. “Whose side are you on?”
Chapter 30
Galin
An hour later, I was back in my quarters, and Ali was in the care of a Night Elf healer. Now, I understood exactly who’d come to my room that night before the melee—the hamrammr. The witch had visited me disguised as Ali, and she’d escaped by turning into a bird.
So much made sense now. When we’d visited Vanaheim, we hadn’t seen any women. But they had been there, hidden. Witches in alternate forms.
I paced my room, trying to decide what to do.
Take me to the girl. Ganglati hadn’t spoken for hours, and his voice startled me.
Why?
You told me you needed the girl to steal the wand.
I sighed aloud. Fine, let me scribe a portal. I wanted to see her anyway.
Quickly, I traced the rune in the air, and magic crackled over my skin as I stepped through into Ali’s living room. Despite the darkness, I could smell her clean scent in here.
A few moments later, the door to her bedroom suddenly creaked open, and she stood in the doorway. She wore her leather outfit, and Skalei gleamed in her hand. She looked ready to kill me, which was oddly sexy.
“Oh.” She slowly relaxed. “I thought you were a Vanir.”
Someone banged on the door from the hallway outside and barked, “Who’s there?” A male voice.
I went tense. We wouldn’t be able to say much in front of whoever that was.
“Just me!” Ali called.
“I heard voices.”
“Just talking to myself!” Under her breath, she hissed at me, “You need to leave now. Thyra’s having me watched.”
“Are you sure you’re okay in there?” The door creaked open, and I slipped out of sight, into her bedroom.