Page 86 of Rune

I studied hismóðir. “Bonding,” I said. “And she told me about the laurel. Unity beyond death?”

He reddened. “I didn’t want to seem forward.”

“It wasn’t,” I quickly said. I gazed at my fiancé, the one who’d thrown himself in front of a wolf to save me. The one who’d sent me a wool when I was cold. The one who healed me twice over. The one who wasrisking himself to fight for my sister because he knew what she means to me. The one who always felt safe. “I’d give you unity beyond death too.”

He kissed me then. His hand against the small of my back, my fingers in his hair, his lips soft against mine, and everything tasting like perfection.

The sudden draw of a trumpet clashed through the air, breaking us apart and dropping the temperature of the day until my skin prickled. My mood darkened. I guessed what it meant.

Over the knoll to the west, a guard marched, leading our champions in.

First came, true to his name, first—still sending fear through me at his sheer size.

Slowly, we drifted to find seats, everyone silent as the champions continued to appear. They all wore the same grim expression like they marched into battle today, all clad in leathers and straps, with empty sheaths at their sides. We rested in view of the city, where the real fight would take place, and I didn’t miss how each of their eyes flicked that way, scoping it out. I didn’t blame them. I’d done the same. Checked for which roofs were flat and would provide proper hiding space, which alleys opened to which streets, and the most direct path to a barrel of weapons. Their table was set so their backs would be to the city, like a great shadow looming behind them.

When a girl came over the knoll, Ve nudged me. “That’s the one I warned you about, Olesea. She’s highly skilled with the long-tipped dagger, but her fame is in her shot. One arrow will take out an enemy, no matter the distance.”

I shuddered. One on one combat was one thing, but to die from an enemy you hadn’t seen was a tricker fate to avoid. This champion had dark red hair, thick limbs, and slanted eyes as if she were forever scoping outthreats from those around her. She moved lithely down the path, dragging her seat out sharply to drop herself into it and plop her feet up on the table.

“There she is,” Ve whispered.

I pried my eyes from Olesea. Tova came over the hill, last in line, wearing tight leather pants and a low scowl, her hair braided into thin pieces and pulled into a high knot. She marched proudly, but with a stiff lip just like she always did when she was frightened. No one else would know it. But the only time she ever braided her hair that intricately was when she was nervous.

I couldn’t blame her. I’d have picked at all my nails so much by now, they’d be bloody.

As Tova came forward, Odin glanced behind him. I hadn’t even realized Trig was here, his ankles tied together and bound to a stake several yards away. He still wore wolf furs and tattered tunics of mortals, with his focus latched on to Tova. She spotted him, and for a moment, I thought she would run to him. He shook his head. She moved on.

The guard at the back paused before Odin. “That one is trouble,” he whispered, gesturing to Tova. “She almost didn’t come. Said that such an occasion was uncalled for and she would not be attending a funeral dinner.”

That sounded like her. If she knew how many knives Ve intended to slip her today, she would have come much more willingly.

But Odin only grinned. “What changed her mind?”

The guard nodded to Trig. “Reminded her the mortal boy dies if she doesn’t show.”

Odin laughed, but my blood boiled. It’d be tricky to steal Trig out from Odin’s watch, and he would be a harder person to slip out of Asgard. He didn’t move as swiftly.

Odin stood with his cup raised.

“To the mortals. Your sacrifice brings your family honor. May you fight well tomorrow.” He took a drink. I suppose that was all the speech they would get before they died in the morning. I tried to focus on the plates of food being brought by a long line of servers and not on the hills behind us, but now that the mortals were here, Tova was all I could think about.

Lyres started up, playing a light-hearted melody that sounded like rivers opening up in the spring. Only then did Tova’s eye land on mine.

We held the position for a long moment. Something in her gaze felt like absolution, like she expected to die tomorrow. Then her eye lifted to the laurel on my head, and her brow cocked. That was something I couldn’t explain through eye-conversations. And it wasn’t important now. Instead, I turned to Ve and smiled up at him, sliding a hand to his chest where I ran my fingers over the blades he’d be slipping to Tova later, and prayed she got the message. Ve dropped his head to look at me, playing along, until I risked looking back to my sister.

Her gaze had turned away.

“I don’t think she got it,” I said.

“She’ll get it when I put a blade in her hand.”

I hoped he was right. For now, I took in my last chance to inspect the nine other mortals she’d be facing.

“What keeps them from leaving the city?”

“A territorial mark on their backs,” Ve replied. “We can’t see it, but it’ll kill them if they step outside the boundaries of the fight. No one can run from this.”

I drew in a breath. Tova would never run anyway. I scoped out her competition, my gaze always landing on First. “Did you watch the big one fight?”

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