Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(68)

“Morning, Elma,” I said with a smile. “Thought you’d be at the Inn.”

She eyed me carefully as the shadows whispered across her skin, and for a moment, I worried she’d decided she didn’t like me very much after all. “Pointless being there with the trial ceremony looming. No one will be in town right now.”

“Well, lucky me, I guess. I’d love some of that cheese.”

She grinned. “You know the drill. No coin, no cheese.”

I dropped a pile of gold onto the counter that Rivelin had given me and exchanged it for a block of crumbly cheese. As I popped the delicacy into my mouth, Elma smiled and wished me luck. Right now, I didn’t really feel we needed much of that. I’d already spotted the other contestants, and while our cupcakes wouldn’t quite be the runaway hit like fireworks were, I had a good hunch we’d still win.

It felt like everything was starting to fall into place, even though we hadn’t yet found my cure. So as I headed to the stage, I should have expected what happened next. Gregor appeared from nowhere, grabbed me by the waist, and hauled me into the bushes again.

I elbowed him in the gut and twisted away from him.

“What in fate’s name do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.

He looked even worse than the last time I’d seen him, and that was saying something. His golden hair hung in tangled clumps around his gaunt, dirt-stained face. Had he been eating?

“I need to talk to you,” he said wearily. “About Rivelin. Again.”

I heaved out a sigh. “I see what this is. You’re holding his swords hostage. What do you want in exchange for them? Something to do with the Games?”

“What?” Confusion rippled across his face. “Rivelin has swords?”

“Don’t play the fool. What do you want for them?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I don’t have them. I didn’t even know he had swords. Do Odel and Haldor know? It’s against the laws of this island.”

I eyed him, taking in his puffy eyes and—shockingly—his bare feet. His shirt was in tatters, and he hunched over, like he was in pain. “Someone broke into Rivelin’s house, knocked him out, and stole some swords. Are you really saying it wasn’t you?”

“That kind of thing doesn’t happen in Wyndale.”

“Except it did happen, and you’re the most likely culprit.”

He frowned. “And you saw this yourself?”

“Yes. I mean, I saw the aftermath. I found Rivelin unconscious, wounded, and bleeding on the floor. Then we realized the swords were missing.”

“That’s clever of him.” Gregor paced, his bare feet thumping against the ground. “Where was this wound? On the front of his head or on the back?”

I narrowed my eyes. “His front. What are you trying to suggest?”

“Rivelin is the mastermind. Think about it, Daella. He wants to win this thing more than anyone, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes. I was his biggest competition, and he got me kicked out by framing me.”

“Stop being so delusional. You weren’t his biggest competition. Viggo is. And besides, we all know—”

“You’re right. Viggo’s winning.” Gregor’s eyes widened. “And I bet you’ll find those ‘stolen’ swords in his house. Rivelin will have put them there. If he gets all his competition kicked out of the Games, he wins by default. It’s ingenious, really. I should have thought of it myself.” He eyed me. “But I bet you wouldn’t be too happy about him cheating like this. Orcs are infamous for their principles.”

I flinched. “Don’t speak about orcs like you know anything about us.”

I needed to find Rivelin and tell him Gregor was wandering around acting irrationally. The elf looked like he’d been to Hel and back, but he had to be hiding the stolen swords somewhere nearby. And judging by his confusion, I didn’t doubt he’d try to use them.

“Has he charmed you yet?” Gregor called out as I turned to go.

I paused, glancing over my shoulder. “What are you on about now?”

“He had a meeting with Odel and Haldor when you first arrived here. They agreed Rivelin would invite you to stay at his home so he could charm you and make you fall in love with him. They thought it would be the best way to convince you not to tell Isveig about this place. Because the three of them want to hide things from you. About dragons.”

I scowled at him, but something in my heart twanged at the words. So he could charm you and make you fall in love with him. “You’re lying.”

He spread his arms out on either side of his body, a move that revealed his scruffy dirt-stained tunic. “Do I look like I’m lying?”

“Yes.” I started toward him, hands fisting. No need to fetch Rivelin when I could take care of the bastard myself. I knew a move that could flatten him on the ground, then I would put him in a chokehold and drag him before the Village Council. They could deal with him and his crimes as they saw fit.

A bell chimed in the distance, signalling the start of the presentation. Gregor’s eyes widened. Without another word, he spun on his bare feet and took off through the trees in a blur of motion. As an elf, he was fast. Too fast, and I had no hope of catching up with him.

I stared after him for a moment, listening to the chimes fade and the roar of the crowd fill the silence it left behind. But I barely heard any of it, too focused on Gregor’s words. Surely it all had to be a lie. I’d asked Rivelin if he dealt in dragon magic—if anyone in this village did—and he’d looked straight in my eyes and told me no. I’d only met him a handful of weeks ago, but still. He wouldn’t lie to me about something that big…would he? He wouldn’t pretend to have feelings for me just to keep me from finding out the truth? Would he?