But what Lilia just didn’t understand was that I was happy on my own. I didn’t want or need anyone else other than Skoll. In fact, upending my life to make room for someone else would only get in the way of what I needed to do most in this world: protect Hearthaven and the other islands. And even more than that, I couldn’t risk trusting the wrong person, let alone one who worked for the emperor—even if they were forced to.
Still, I understood what Lilia saw in the half-orc. With the fireflies dancing around her head, their yellow glow illuminating her brilliant sage-green skin, she looked achingly beautiful tonight.
I cleared my throat and motioned at a nearby elf with long auburn hair. “That’s Kari. She’s one of the contestants this year. Smart as a whip.”
“Good to know. Who else?”
I scanned the crowd and picked out a purple-winged pixie chattering with her partner, a dwarf who, incidentally, had also been chosen this year. Should be interesting. “Those two are in it this year. The pixie’s name is Nina. She’s a firecracker who loves to cook. Her partner there, Hege, is a carpenter, and she’s stronger than she looks.”
“She looks pretty damn strong,” Daella said, taking another sip of her ale.
“Then we have Godfrey.” I pointed to the lanky human lurking by the bar. He was new to the village, and I didn’t know much about him. Then I shifted my attention to the fire demon, one of the earliest residents of Wyndale since the humans left. “And that’s Viggo. Strong, powerful, determined. I’d say he’s the most likely to win, other than me.”
“And Gregor of course,” Daella said.
“Yes, if he cheats.”
“And what’s the likelihood of that happening?”
“High. That’s why we’ll keep an eye on him.”
Suddenly, the bard began singing an upbeat tune, his voice wailing through the market square. Half of the folk crammed into the tables leapt to their feet and made space in the center for the dance floor. It was early in the night, but we’d already reached this point. Things were about to get rowdy.
Once there was a northern troll
Whose face looked like a big blue mole!
He pranced around as if to rule
But he was nothing but an icy fool!
Daella turned to me, her eyes sparkling. “This is about Isveig. I’ve heard rumors that people call him a mountain troll when they think they can get away with it.”
I nodded. “Bards are particularly fond of the nickname.”
“I have to dance to this,” she said in an excited whisper. “It’s too fun of a song to pass up.”
“You really do hate him,” I said with a bemused smile as she downed the rest of her drink.
After handing me her tankard, she joined the dance floor and spun in circles with the others. I found myself tapping my foot after a few moments, watching her whirl and dip and clap to the beat. I was so caught up in the music I didn’t notice Gregor approach until his shoulder slammed against mine.
I stiffened as I turned on him, liquid anger racing through my veins. He wore a fitted midnight blue tunic with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a glittering golden crown atop his head—the first gift he’d won from the island. The magic of this place hadn’t made him king, but it had allowed him to have a crown. What a waste of a gift. Out of instinct, I reached for the dagger at my belt, but he held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Whoa now,” he said with a guttural laugh, though there was no merriment in his eyes. “I’m just coming to say hello.”
“You never say hello to me, Gregor.”
“You got me there.” His teeth flashed as he smiled. “Mostly, I wanted to give you a warning. Because of who you are, I’m willing to overlook what your orc friend over there did earlier, but Rivelin, lad, you need to keep her in line. If she attacks me again, I’ll be forced to do something about it.”
A low, simmering anger swept through me. Fisting my hands, I took a step toward him. “Are you threatening her?”
He tsked. “She was the one threatening me.”
“Stay away from Daella.”
Gregor shook his head. “You know she’s one of Isveig’s murks, don’t you? Surely her ass isn’t sweet enough to make you forget that, although…” His eyes drifted toward the dance floor, and an eager glint lit his golden eyes. “I did ask for Freya to gift me with a new lover. Interesting how the lass showed up right in time for Midsummer.”
“I said stay away from her.” My hand went to my dagger hilt. “And if you make me say it a third time, you’ll sorely regret it.”
Tension curdled the air between us. He stared at me, and I stared at him, and I couldn’t be sure which way this would end. He’d either back down, or I’d make my move. Gregor had been here for a few years longer than I had, but at the end of the day, I protected this island. I’d gladly protect it from him, if need be.
After a long, excruciating moment, he loosed a breath and stepped back. “Speak of the fucking devil.” And then he wandered off.
A body collided into me before I could turn, but somehow I knew—I felt—it was her. I turned and caught her arms just in time. Her knees buckled, and her flushed face aimed for the ground. A hiss went through the air as I held her up, pulling her against my chest.
“Think I drank. Too much,” she slurred as she looked up at me with bleary eyes.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You downed two pints in the space of ten minutes when you’ve never had a drink before.”
She nodded. “In hindsight. Bad idea.”
“Let’s get you home.”
“Mmmm. Far. Legs no work.”
A pause. “I’ll carry you.”
“What?”
“Don’t overreact.” Before she could try to talk me out of it, I looped my arms under her legs and hauled her from the ground. Her head dropped against my chest, and she sighed.
“Embarrassing.”
“Don’t be. It happens to everyone at least once.”
“Not you, I bet.”
“You’d be surprised.”
She lifted her head for a moment to pin her narrowed gaze on me. “But. Grouchy and brooding.”
Shaking my head, I carried her away from the dance floor and toward the road that led back to my shop. The laughter and music and buzz of conversation faded into a dull roar, and shadows crept around the corners of the buildings to replace the lantern light. Daella relaxed into me, closing her eyes.
I carried her up the steps and through the door, and then went straight to the bedroom. When I lowered her onto the bed after pulling back the quilt, she grabbed my hand. Steam whorled between us.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
My heart clenched. “You’re welcome, Daella.”
Almost instantly, she fell asleep. I pulled the covers across her body, and then grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen. I tried not to think too much on what I’d done—that I’d spent my evening looking after someone who worked for the enemy, and that I didn’t regret a single moment of it.
In fact, for the first time in a very long while, I didn’t spend my midnight hours on the roof glaring at the stars. I went straight to the sofa, and I slept. Perhaps it was because I might have my enemy right where I wanted her.