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Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(6)

Author:Jenna Wolfhart

I thought back to the moment I’d set eyes on her, when she’d been coughing and sputtering and clawing at the sand. At first, my instincts had propelled me forward to help. The Elding must have attacked her ship, and she’d somehow survived when few did. Orcs weren’t known to be good swimmers, not when fresh water welted their skin. But she was there. And she’d needed help.

That was when I’d spotted the dagger in the sand and the emperor’s sigil on her shoulder.

“She asked about the Glass Peaks,” I told them. “She didn’t seem to know anything about Hearthaven.”

“See? She’s hunting for Draugr over on the mountain island where the dwarves live. She’s got no business here,” Haldor said.

“And yet she is here,” I countered. “We won’t be able to get rid of her for six bloody weeks because of the Elding. That will take us through the whole of the Midsummer Games. She’ll see everything.”

Odel tapped a finger against her chin. “We could send her up to Milford, or even Riverwold.”

“Bad idea. She’ll just come back when she finds out half their residents are here for the Games,” Haldor said.

“He has a point.” Odel frowned and turned back to me. “We’re going to have to convince her we’re not dealing in outlawed dragon magic and charm her enough that she won’t want to tell the emperor about our island. We need to show her we’re just a small village of peaceful people who don’t want any trouble. If she believes that, she won’t tell Isveig a damn thing.”

I grunted and folded my arms. “If you’d spent any time around Isveig’s murks, you wouldn’t believe that any more than I do.”

Haldor crossed the room to gaze out the open window, where the sounds of celebration poured into the Village Hall. Soon, it would die down as the Elding’s rains swept across the village, signalling the beginning of our annual Midsummer Games. We had so many visitors this year, so many hopefuls who wanted to throw their hat into the ring or cheer for the spectacle. It had brought a riotous atmosphere to our quaint village, and the streets were practically buzzing from the excitement.

Not me. All I could think was that so many people lessened my odds.

“Uh oh,” Haldor said as he moved back from the window. “Elma’s chucked the orc out of the inn. She’s walking this way now, probably looking for shelter.”

“Of course Elma did. No one’s going to help a half-orc from Fafnir,” Odel said. “Everyone knows who she is.”

Both of them folded their arms and stared at me.

I frowned. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

Odel sighed. “Orcs are allergic to rain, right? So we’re not going to endear her to us if she’s banished outside on her first night here, after what I’m assuming was quite the ordeal with the whole shipwreck and all. She needs some food, a dry room, and a cozy bed.”

Haldor nodded enthusiastically.

I barked out a laugh. “No, absolutely not. If you want to play savior to Isveig’s pet orc, then be my guest, but I’ll have no part in it. His murks have done enough to ruin my life. I won’t let one near my house.”

“Think about it, Rivelin.” Haldor sidled up to me with a wicked grin. “We can’t leave her outside for six weeks, braving the elements. That will only make her hate us. She’ll poke around. She’ll find reasons to tell Isveig about us. Someone needs to keep an eye on her and make her sweet.”

“Then you do it,” I said through clenched teeth. I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation.

“I’m married,” he said with a shrug. “You’re not.”

“You must be joking.”

“He has a good point,” Odel said in a singsong voice. “Lucien would not be thrilled if Haldor brought home a beautiful orc, mercenary or not. You know how jealous he gets.”

I heaved a sigh and pinned both of them with a flat stare. “He wouldn’t be ‘taking her home’ and neither would I. You said you want to keep her from poking around? Fine. But I don’t see how that has anything to do with Lucien’s jealousy. It’s not as if you’re going to romance her.”

“I mean, it’s not a bad idea,” Odel said. “It’ll keep her distracted.”

“So then you do it.”

Her cheeks reddened. “I know nothing about romancing a woman, unfortunately. You, on the other hand, are handsome, unmarried, and women love you. You could charm anyone.”

I scowled. “I am not a charmer, and you know it. I haven’t courted anyone since I moved here.”

Haldor clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Well, you might be a grumpy recluse, Rivelin, but the women still love you with your annoying elvish looks.”

“I hate mercenaries and the emperor.”

“Too bad.” Haldor grinned.

“This is for the good of the village, which you’ve said time and time again is all you care about,” Odel added, edging a step closer. They’d boxed me in now, two against one. And I knew whatever I said now, they’d never let this go. “All you have to do is give her somewhere to stay for six weeks. Keep her happy, make her love this place. Then when we send her off to the Glass Peaks, she won’t want to tell the emperor anything about us. And the dwarves are smart enough to figure out what to do with her when she gets there.”

“Won’t it seem suspicious? I’ve just dropped her off at the inn and basically told her to fuck herself.”

“Perhaps.” Odel pursed her pink lips, bright against her skin, and glanced at Haldor. “Any ideas?”

For a moment, he stared off into the distance, and I thought I might get out of this meeting without being saddled with Isveig’s half-orc murk for the summer. But then Odel snapped her fingers as a look of glee brightened her pixie face.

“I’ve got it,” she said in an eager whisper. “Get her involved with Midsummer. Make her some kind of deal. You won’t just give her a free room. She’ll have to work with you at your blacksmith shop, either helping out during the festivities or helping you win the Games if your name gets chosen. Of course, we’ll need to get her some clothes. Tilda’s about her size, and she has plenty.”

My hands fisted. The last thing I wanted was for my enemy to help me win the Midsummer Games and everything that came with it. But there was a strange sense of irony, I had to admit. Because if I won, I knew how I’d use my winnings. I would make certain this island and its people would never again be threatened by the crown, which included her.

Plus, I did need an assistant, and I hadn’t known who to ask. Everyone else had already paired up. I was a strong contender, but Haldor was right. I was known as the village’s recluse.

“What about Gregor?” I asked. “The murk’s a new woman on the island. He’ll probably try to claim the island sent her to him.”

Odel scowled, an expression I rarely saw from her. “I wouldn’t wish Gregor on my worst enemy, and Daella might very well be that. We’re not sending her to him. And if he tries anything, we’ll just remind him that his request was outside the boundaries of the island’s rules.”

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