Pressing my lips together, I fought to remain calm, even as that old familiar fear burned through my veins, flushing my cheeks. In the excitement of the ceremony and from the magic of the morning air, I’d loosened the grip on my priorities. I’d forgotten why I was here. The people of this village might seem decent, but they were hiding a secret that could burn the whole world down.
A n hour later, Rivelin took me down a winding dirt path that led out of the village. He went back to his gruff silence, and I went back to covertly searching for any sign of dragon magic. If he was a Draugr, there should be signs. There always was. His eyes could show a hint of it—a flash of orange when he got angry. His skin might feel hotter than expected, even on a summer day. The smell was an obvious indicator, but except for that earlier whiff, the pungent odor was nowhere to be found now.
I thought about reaching out to brush my fingers across his arm, but…my chest tightened at the idea. No, I would not be doing that, thank you.
“So,” I said, our boots crunching on some fallen leaves as we passed beneath the lush canopy of the woods near the village. “You’re a blacksmith.”
“Very clever observation.”
“Curious profession, what with all the heat and fire. Elves have an affinity with water. Don’t you have some strands of Vatnor magic in your blood?”
“A little. But I like the way heat feels against my hands.”
A strangled cough scraped from my throat, and I tried to hide it by stumbling on a tree root and falling flat on my face. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the best idea. Pain radiated through my cheek, where it had hit the ground hard. Rivelin wrapped a gloved hand around my arm and hauled me to my feet, our chests brushing because of the closeness. His fingers pressed into me. Even through the gloves, I could tell they were warm and strong but not blazing hot like a Draugr’s.
And he held on, still, even though I was back on my feet.
I swallowed.
He shifted closer. I tipped back my head to keep his eyes in my field of vision, taking note of the ripple in his jaw and the slight flare of his nostril.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” His breath whispered across my skin, nearly making me shudder.
I tried to take a step away from him, but my back hit a tree. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t play coy. You’re trying to root out information to take back to your emperor. You are a mercenary, Daella. You even admitted you signed his contract.”
“And I told you. It wasn’t by choice.”
“It’s always by choice.”
“Not when you’re me,” I insisted, fisting my hands. “His army destroyed the last of the orcs, and there weren’t that many of us in the first place. Do you really think I would want to work for a monster like that?”
“They say you live in his castle—that you’re his protected little pet.”
I flinched. His attention zeroed in on me, like he’d noticed the reaction.
“I’ve lived in the castle most of my life. Before he came along, I was a serving girl for the king; a very kind, very generous orc. My parents were killed when I was young, and he took me in. Isveig used to visit the castle with his family. We were…friends. And so when he took Fafnir as his, he spared my life—but not my freedom. He keeps me hidden away in a tower when I’m not out on a quest for him. The doors are always locked. None of this was my choice.”
The words spilled out of me and left me breathless. With the rough bark scraping against my exposed skin, I lifted my chin and silently dared Rivelin to make another snide remark about my willingness to become one of Isveig’s murks. I didn’t know why I even cared. I didn’t need his approval.
I did need his trust, though.
Still, the idea he might laugh in my face made my heart twist into shredded ribbons. I was not the person he believed me to be, and I desperately wanted him to see it. If he trusted me, maybe he’d lower his defenses a bit, and I could find out where the Draugr were hiding—and if he was one, too.
He exhaled and stepped back, his eyes hooded. “Isveig kept you in captivity?”
“Look at me. I’m half-orc. The only reason he didn’t have me killed was because we were friends once.”
“And all those quests you do for him…？”
The ice shard throbbed in my hip. “If I don’t follow his orders, he’ll make sure I never take another breath.”
He ground his teeth and moved away, running his fingers through his silken silver strands. “I shouldn’t believe you. This could be some story you’ve made up to gain my trust.”
“You’re right. It could be.”
“He sent you here.”
“No, he sent me to the Glass Peaks.”
“Why?”
I folded my arms. “Why do you think?”
“To track down Draugr. That’s what you do. It’s what you’re good at. Don’t try to pretend it’s not.”
“Oh, I am excellent at it. Is that a problem?”
“It is when it gets innocents killed.”
“Innocents?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Please. I’ve seen what Draugr can do. The magic burns them up, along with everyone else who made the mistake of being near them.”
His eyes swept across my face, and I took the opportunity to search the yellow for any sign of that fire. The kind that consumed someone until there was nothing left of them but ash. Those who used the magic—even just once—became corrupted by it. It was impossible to turn away once you had a taste of it. I understood why. The power of it was intoxicating, far greater than even the four elements combined.
Rivelin towered over me. He pulled a dagger from his belt and pressed the tip against my chin. The sharp point dug into my skin, but I did not flinch away. I just kept my hard, steady gaze on his face.
“Do you know why I’m here?” he asked with lethal quiet.
I swallowed, my throat bobbing against the blade. “To win the Midsummer Games.”
“No.” He leaned in closer. “I’m here to protect the Isles. That includes the Glass Peaks. And I’ll protect them from anyone Emperor Isveig sends our way.”
“So then he’s right. There are Draugr in those mountains. Why would you ever want to defend them? Don’t you know what they can do?”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t let you walk away from this.”
“And yet you still haven’t shoved the tip of that dagger into my neck.”
With a growl, he dropped the blade and slammed it into the sheath. “Only because I vowed never to spill blood here unless mortally provoked.”
“So you didn’t bring me into the secluded woods to stab me? That’s a relief, though I think you’ll find I’m not that easy to kill.”
“We need to collect some wood for the boat.”
“Ah yes, for the competition you want me to help you win, just after you threatened me with your dagger.”
“I don’t trust you,” he grunted.
“I don’t trust you, either, especially after that.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
He narrowed his gaze. “You say you’ve spent your entire life in captivity, except when you’re out on quests?”