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Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(63)

Author:Jenna Wolfhart

“Ah.” Haldor glanced my way. “He saw Daella send that letter to Thuri, and he thought it was meant for Isveig. He was trying to stop her from sending any more letters to the enemy.”

I shook my head. “So everything he did, he did for the good of the island.”

“He thought it was for the good of the island,” Odel countered. “But he has done too much damage. And if he’d had his way, thousands of innocents in Fafnir would have died.”

For a moment, no one spoke. We stood there in our huddle and let Odel’s words sink in, understanding how easy it could be to lose sight of things. Emperor Isveig had gone to war, believing himself to be the world’s savior. And Viggo would have done the same thing. It could have become a vicious cycle of rage and blood until it was the only thing left, until everything good was gone from this world.

“Luckily, all that’s over.” I turned to Thuri. “Now let me introduce you to Mabel. She makes a mean mushroom pie.”

T he entire village was out for Midsummer. The sky was lit with a million stars, and a soft breeze rustled the grass at my feet. I popped another cube of Elma’s cheese in my mouth, leaning against the side of Lilia’s wagon, where lanterns cast their light on the dancing crowd. Haldor had taken it upon himself to loose some fireworks between each song, dazzling everyone in attendance with their oohs and ahhs that rippled across the meadow in waves.

It was a beautiful, mystical night, and for the first time in my life, I no longer feared what tomorrow might bring. I had no idea what would happen next, but I was safe here, and I was free. That was enough.

“There you are.” Rivelin stepped from the shadows to join me in the quiet calm, away from the merriment of the crowd. “Why are you hiding all the way over here? Some of this celebration is for you, you know. You won the Games.”

“I believe that was you, Rivelin.”

“I’m not the one who baked hundreds of cupcakes and rode on the back of a dragon. The win is yours, and I know you like to dance. Shall I ask the bard to play that tune about Isveig?”

“The troll one?” I grinned. “Oh yes, please. I just…first, I want to take it all in.”

“Take all what in?”

“My freedom,” I breathed. “And all that comes with it. Look at Hege twirling her wife through a meadow beneath a blanket of stars. Have you ever seen any two people more in love? And over there is Elma, cheerily serving up her cheese and her olives, and Lilia beaming every time someone asks her for an ale. Even Godfrey seems happy here. He’s been so quiet and reclusive these past few weeks, but now look at him. He’s dancing with wild abandon.”

I felt the weight of Rivelin’s stare, and I wondered if I’d gone on for too long.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “You see the beauty in things. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you.” A pause. “One of the first things I loved about you.”

I started and met his gaze, my heart pounding.

His smile matched the gold in his eyes. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“You, dance? I thought you hated parties.”

“With you, I would dance until the world ends.”

My heart rattled in my chest as a wave of emotion rushed through me. I slipped my hand into his, mesmerized by the steam that fogged between us.

Rivelin pulled me against him, and I draped my arms around his neck. As I dropped my head against his chest, we swayed in the grass beside Lilia’s wagon, the scent of summer weaving around us. I closed my eyes and memorized the feel of him and the sound of his pounding heartbeat against my ear. The rhythm of it was so familiar to me now, so right.

For so much of my life, I’d never had a home. Somehow, despite everything, I’d found one. With him.

And then, from the stage, the bard began to play my new favorite tune.

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!

I grinned and unwound myself from Rivelin, then grabbed his hand and tugged him closer to the meadow where the revelling crowd went wild. “You said you wanted to dance with me. Well, come on, then. Let’s really dance.”

I thought he might bow out of this one. After all, he was the grumpy blacksmith who enjoyed his quiet solitude up on his roof, and this was quite the opposite of that. But when he saw my beaming smile, he matched it with one of his own and followed me into the meadow.

We reveled until dawn while dragons danced in the sky.

Epilogue

DAELLA

THREE MONTHS LATER

T he full moon illuminated our path along the beach. Side by side, Rivelin and I strode along the coarse sand as the salty waves lapped at our bare feet. Skoll trotted along beside us, occasionally darting into the woods to investigate a new scent. A breeze from the open sea brought a brief respite from the humid summer heat. Life was better than ever.

Not long after Midsummer, Thuri left with her warriors back to Fafnir, and village life returned to normal. Everyone agreed to excuse Rivelin’s sword-crafting. He was the Defender of Wyndale, after all, and he could have blades, just in case. A tranquility had settled over the quiet roads, and I awoke each day to the sound of birdsong and the warmth of the morning sun on my face—and Rivelin’s strong arms wrapped around me.

He’d insisted I move in as a permanent resident of the house, and I hadn’t argued. There was nowhere else I’d rather be.

By day, we worked in the forge. In the evenings, we often hosted guests, like Haldor and his husband or Kari and Godfrey, who had started seeing each other not long after Midsummer. Mabel came by most days to say hello, drop off treats for Aska, or read through my orcish history book with me. Lilia had packed up her wagon and headed north to Riverwold. I’d sent her off with the Vindur sand—I thought she might need it more than I did. I knew Rivelin missed her, but his sister was a wanderer, and he’d never try to keep her from following her heart.

A thunderous boom rent the quiet night. Smiling, I looked up to see Aska’s red-scaled belly passing low overhead. She swooped by on her glorious wings and loosed a bellow that I’d come to understand.

“Hello to you, too, Aska,” I whispered up at her, already looking forward to the next time we soared through the sky. We usually went flying together a few times a week. It might just be my favorite thing to do now—after spending time with Rivelin, of course.

“Have you noticed she comes out here every time we do?” Rivelin asked.

I patted the dagger at my side, where it hung next to my bag of salt. It felt right for it to be there again, even if I hoped to never use it. “It’s because she knows we’re on patrol. She wants to help.”

“Well, she would spot a ship before we would.”

Rivelin slung an arm around my shoulder as we continued down the silent stretch of beach, searching for any waterlogged folk crawling out of the surf. We came out here every few nights when there was a bite in the air, like tonight. The Elding had shifted its attention to the northern side of the island just after Midsummer, but it would head back this way soon, now that summer was fading fast.

When we reached the end of our patrol, I took one last look at the sea before putting on my boots and following Rivelin down the path to Wyndale. Skoll bounded off for his nightly hunt. We’d see him in the morning.

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