Page 135 of Into the Isle

Big versus small.

“Remember what Grim showed you!” I cried out, and begrudgingly carried myself onward.

Randi was low to the ground like an animal, crouching just a few feet up. Just as Grim had taught her. She lunged in quick strikes and backed up before the bigger man could retaliate.

Rolf stood tall. Once he saw Randi’s foundation and strategy, he also got lower. I lost sight of them after that, bounding into the trees.

“Already on it, babe!” Randi cried out, her voice reaching me as I streamed past them.

I wanted to help her. Randi being a diversion and distraction for Ulf and Rolf was useful to our cause. I knew if she got her ass kicked by Rolf, but we ended up winning because of it, she would gladly take that outcome.

I passed the halfway point of the arena—a small clearing—where Hersir Axel stood off to the side, head whipping left and right to gauge the outcome of the trial.

I gave him a small nod as I scurried by.

Less than a minute later, I caught an unnatural glint of blue shimmering in the sunlight.

I came at the enemy flag and slowed my roll, tensing. With a measured march, I went up and yanked it and the flagpole it was attached to out of the ground—

As I noticed Sven off to the side, the coach, who could do nothing but glower at me as I winked at him.

My body filled with elation, knowing we were this close to winning. Now I just had to bring it back to our side.

I spun around and sprinted through the middle of the arena, knowing Rolf, Randi, and Ulf were somewhere off to my right. I took the less trafficked area, though it slowed me down with its thick undergrowth and bushy trees.

I found the clearing where Hersir Axel stood sentinel—

And Astrid Dahlmyrr pushed into the glade from the opposite direction just as I did.

She held our yellow flag.

Our eyes both went wide. Her green hair glimmered, my silver hair shimmered.

I tossed the flag off to the side, near Axel, without a second thought.

Astrid made the mistake of keeping our flagpole clutched to her chest, like a teddy bear she didn’t want to let go of. Her one chance at vindication.

I charged the silvermoor with my spear drawn, both hands on the haft. She jerked clumsily to the left and right, narrowly avoiding my strikes.

My spear bonked into a tree trunk, so I spun the opposite way to bring the heat.

Astrid twirled her own spear around—opting to use the same weapon as me just so she could prove she could best me, most likely.

She used the flagpole and her dull-tipped spear in unison, showing a surprising amount of ambidexterity. I was forced back on my heels in a defensive stance.

I knew, since we had each other’s flags, we could stay locked in combat until one of us won.

Astrid growled and charged hard at me. “Scared, bog-blood?”

Her weapons whistled over me, the wind of her powerful attacks loud in my ears, mere inches away.

When she brought her spear and flagpole around for a back-swing, I slapped them down to the ground together, spinning my spear over her.

I smacked the staff into her wrist, and she dropped the flagpole with a yelp.

A shadow appeared to my left—close to Hersir Axel.

Magnus burst into the clearing, landing his gray eyes on me and Astrid for a split second. He swooped down and grabbed the blue flagpole I’d tossed away, all without breaking stride.

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