Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(57)

“Looks like we’ll stay in second, though.” I nodded toward the stage in the distance. Spectators were still making their votes, but from here, it was clear to see we’d remained the runner-up. Unfortunately for the other two contestants, Hege and Godfrey, very few had voted for them. They didn’t stand a chance any longer.

“Those votes won’t be enough, not unless we win the final two challenges by a landslide,” said Rivelin.

“Vindur and Jordur. Air and Earth.”

“And I can’t say I have anything good up my sleeves for either of them, unless you use the Vindur sand Kari gave you,” he said. “Even then, I don’t know what we’d do with it.”

We finished our dinner, and Rivelin went to say hello to his sister. I offered to return our bowls to the merchant, telling him I’d catch up when I was done. I was halfway to the stall when a weird hiss sounded from the bushes nearby.

“Psssh. Daella,” a harsh voice whispered.

Frowning, I edged closer to the bush. A hand shot out from the branches, grabbed my arm, and tugged me through the scratchy plant. I cursed and spun away, only to come face-to-face with Gregor. He looked terrible. Purple stains rimmed his bloodshot eyes. His golden hair was askew, like it hadn’t seen a brush in months, and dirt splattered his trouser knees. Had he been crawling in mud? No matter. The worse shape he was in, the easier it would be to defeat him.

He held up his hands as I launched my fist toward him. “Stop. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

I froze. “Right. You just ambushed me when I was alone because you want to make nice.”

“Actually, I do. We need to talk about Rivelin.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What about Rivelin?”

“He’s using you.”

“You’re a couple weeks too late. He’s helping me. I’m helping him. Neither of us is using the other.” Not anymore.

“Oh yeah? Helping you with what, exactly?”

“None of your business,” I snapped.

With a shake of my head, I turned to go.

“I didn’t destroy his shop and steal his tools,” Gregor called after me.

I froze. “You don’t actually expect me to believe that.”

“Think about it,” he said, moving to stand beside me. “Why would I be so blatant about it? Wouldn’t I hide the tools if I stole them so that it couldn’t be traced back to me?”

“You provoked Kari in front of everyone,” I pointed out. “Don’t forget. I was there. And she wouldn’t be alive if I hadn’t been.”

He folded his arms. “All right, I did provoke her. I didn’t outright attack her, though. Not until she attacked me. Because I play the game within the rules. Leaving stolen tools lying around is something only a fool would do.”

“So someone framed you, is what you’re saying.” I patted his arm. “Nice try.”

“Wait,” he said quickly, digging into his pocket and producing a folded piece of parchment. “I thought you might want to see this.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s that?”

“I’ve got friends in Fafnir. I sent them a letter via raven when you first got here, asking them about you.”

“You did what?” I advanced on him, horror snaking through me. If Isveig got wind that I was here and very much alive…

“Don’t worry. They’re loyal to his sister, Thuri. Turns out she survived the whole ordeal.” He passed me the parchment.

I didn’t want to look at it, fearing this was some kind of trick. But the roaring in my head was too loud for me to ignore. Without another word, I unfolded the note.

The heir is alive.

That was all it said. I lifted my eyes and looked at Gregor. “You expect me to believe this is from Fanfir, and it’s talking about Thuri?”

He shrugged. “Take it as my truce. I made a mistake, but I’m trying to make it right—starting with warning you about Rivelin.”

I backed up and shook my head. “I’m returning to the celebration now.”

“Just think about it,” he said as I parted the bush. “Why didn’t Rivelin hear someone destroying his things? Who wants to win this competition more than anyone else? Perhaps Rivelin sabotaged his own damn shop to set me up. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to get rid of me, especially after I tried to romance his sister. He holds a grudge.”

“I’m done listening to this.” I shoved through the shrub, ignoring the scratches along my arm. When I stumbled back into the celebration, I searched the crowd for Rivelin and found him beside the stage frowning at the glass jars. It looked like everyone had cast their vote now. As expected, Viggo was still in the lead.

With narrowed eyes, Rivelin shifted his gaze from the jars to where Viggo stood surrounded by a gaggle of pixies. He glowered at the fire demon in a way that sent a chill down my spine. I recognized that look. I’d seen it on Isveig’s face before. He was angry, and he was out for blood.





24




RIVELIN





D aella was contemplative for the rest of the night, and when we returned home, she went straight to bed. I’d hoped to continue our earlier encounter, but I had to admit my mind was elsewhere, too. Viggo’s spectacle was odd. Where had he come up with something like that? It didn’t sit right in my gut.