Page 101 of Rune

That last untied thread wavered before my face. He believed I was a goddess.

I’d tell him before we went to Danmark, but first we’d get Tova safe. Then he’d know the truth of who I was.

And I’d pray to every god that he still wanted me.

“Are you okay?” His hand brushed my cheek.

I wove my fingers through his. “More than okay. Just hoping it doesn’t come crashing down.”

He gave me a last kiss. “Nothing could make that happen.”

Ve tugged me toward the arena, and with a tentative hope in my chest, we ran.

The gods were there when we arrived. They filtered into the seats with either praising shouts or glum looks, depending on wins and losses. Money was exchanged for those who’d bet correctly, and jravn flowed freely.

Ve’s friends were there to greet us, with wide smiles and perfectly curled hair and clothes that hadn’t seen a true battle ever. They clapped our backs and pressed cups into our hands. I gave them the bare minimum pleasantries before passing my cup to Ve and hurling myself over the railing to land in the arena. Tova stood in the center, head held high, firelight flickering from her tan skin. Trig was at her side.

I barreled into them.

“You did it,” I shouted over the noise. “You won.”

“We won,” she said back. Her arms tightened around me, and I felt how her body shook. “Thank the gods, we won.” The arena roared louder as we embraced, like thunder around us.

Then it all came to a dead silence.

I looked up.

Odin stood before his majestic seat, with his fist in the air to call us to attention. His eyes were stone. His body rigid. As his gaze swept over me, it hardened.

I’d been frightened of him when I first arrived in Asgard, but it was nothing compared to how murderous he appeared now. My blood froze. At his side, Frigg crossed her legs and wrapped her arms over herself, letting a single tear fall. It glistened in the orange light.

“Something’s wrong,” I whispered.

Tova stepped forward, keeping a hand in mine. “Let me go. I have won your game and earned back your favor.”

He gave her a withering stare. She stood her ground.

From the shadows behind his chair, Aegir stepped forward. I let go of Tova’s hand. “This isn’t about you,” I said. “It’s about me.”

Odin lifted his voice to speak to the arena. “We have been fooled,” he said. “Lied to, and betrayed in the most vicious ways.”

“Tova, you should run,” I hissed. Odin could take his wrath out on me, and me alone.

“What is he talking about?”

Odin continued, “A mortal has come in, pretending to be one of us, to be my own blood. And has tarnished the memory of Astrid in such a way.”

I whirled to Trig. “Take her and run.”

Trig grabbed Tova, but she planted herself and refused to move.

The gods were a grumble of questions that rose over the barracks of the railing and settled over us like rain. I prepared myself for the storm.

Odin was shouting now. “Ruin is no granddaughter of mine. She is a fraud.”

Now it was an uproar. I yelled through it. “Odin, I beg you to listen to me. I’ve come to Asgard not of my own free will, and never caused harm.” But my words were drowned out as Odin threw himself into the arena with us. His feet landed with a pound to silence us all. It was a slow prowl that led him to our side, while I clenched my muscles to prepare for what might come. Tova tried to stand in my way, but Odin growled. “Move. Aside. Now.”

Thank the gods, she obeyed.

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