Page 90 of Rune

Then his hand was beneath my chin, and his lips were on mine. I kissed him like he was the only thing grounding me, tasting my tears on my lips. Ve lifted me to my feet and pretended to whisper in my ear. I nodded. He led me out the door, and leaned back to speak to those we were leaving behind. “She needs space.” He shut the door, leaving us on the outside with the perfect excuse for our absence.

It took all my strength not to run down those steps, but just in case anyone else was entering, it was vital our charade wasn’t uncovered. We eased past the light doorway once more, bending around the back of the tower where the shade provided relief from the sun and protection from wandering eyes.

“You were brilliant,” Ve commented, unclipping several blades to pass them to me. I took them, tying each to my belt as I tried to peer around the tower and into the city. “Slip through the west roads, and come through the back.”

My hands stilled. “You aren’t coming?”

“Two will be easier to spot. I’ll bide my time and reappear later with some excuse about your absence.” He removed the laurel from my hair and gently slipped it into his jacket.

“Everyone will suspect when I’m gone.” I untied my sandals and kicked them off.

Ve pressed a final blade into my hand. “Then don’t get caught.” And he pushed me to the city.

I took off, bare feet slapping against dusty cobblestones as I dove into the first alley I could find. It was so narrow that my shoulders almost touched both sides, and low hanging ivy whipped me in the face.My mind raced through a million things at once:Find Tova, remember the map of the streets, stay out of sight,and lastly—don’t die.

I peeked back once, but Ve had already disappeared.

Patience would be the key here, that I didn’t race out to find my foes, but rather waited for them to reveal themselves. For there was no reward for those who killed the fastest, only the one who survived. Honor was pointless to the dead. The key would be to wait. To lurk through the darkest streets, never crossing in the open until it was safe. Be like a shadow that kills.

I was no use to Tova if I was dead.

But I was no use to Tova if she was dead. My sister should hide. I could not.

Instead, I tore through the town with as much discretion as I could, blazing a path toward Odin’s home. There was an alley there I’d seen, one surrounded by a garden to give a clear view of those who came from the west and a high wall to protect from the east. More importantly, it bore a strong resemblance to a patch of land on our childhood home, so it would be like I was fighting on familiar ground. I’d take any advantage I could get. And I bet Tova headed for the familiar as well.

A shop loomed ahead, marking the end of the thick town and the start of an open stretch I’d need to cross. A sign outside raved of sticky buns and melted chocolate, but it was the faded brown banner with the emblem of a wolf that caught my attention. I tore it down to cover my hair in hopes of masking my identity. The other mortals might not notice I was not one of them, but I feared the gods more.

My gaze shifted upward. One more step, and I’d be in view of the glass domes.

I took the step. It would be twenty paces until the beams of a bridge offered protection, where I’d wait in the slick mud to mark my next path. Fifteen minutes, and I’d find Tova.

Four steps. Five.

Something flew over my shoulder. A dagger embedded itself into the ground at the base of the bridge. There wasn’t time to see where it’d come from, only to hope it was their only one. I hurled myself around, curling my fingers around my own blade just as someone’s arms wrapped around my waist and brought me down.

The back of my head slammed into something hard, and a bright light flashed. I jerked, ripping one hand free. It was almost enough to reach my blade when the attacker punched me, sending my vision dark.

This can’t be how I die.

I swung my own fist, meeting something firm. Then kicked upward, right where I knew it would hurt. A satisfying grunt came, and they were jarred enough that I could scramble free. But their hand found my waist sooner, and drew a blade. It was pressed beneath my chin.

Finally I registered their eyes, and found familiar pools of blue.

“Trig?”

His face was murderous, eyes darkened like they held death, and skin sweaty. His breathing came fast, and I doubted he recognized me from how he was looking. Or he did, and he didn’t care.

“Trig,” I said again, bracing a hand beneath his. “It’s me. It’s Rune.”

The recognition swept in, wiping some of the fear away.

“Rune,” he breathed. Then he dropped the blade. He took in our surroundings, then shoved me with force toward the cover of the bridge. “Hide.”

I stumbled back, landing in a patch of mud and pressing my back against the curve of the belly of the bridge. Trig sat across from me, ripping his previous dagger from the ground and scouring around us.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Same as you, I suppose,” he whispered, but his focus was far more on the city around us as opposed to me, as if he hadn’t just tried to slit my throat.

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