“I’m a renowned skald,” he says. “And we have laughed a lot tonight.”
I smile at him. He smiles at me. Our faces are so close I could lean over and kiss him. The tantalizing scent of his body tickles my nose as birch crackles in the hearth.
“They know you as a skald, yes, but I know your little secret.”
“Which one?” he asks, making us both laugh.
“All of them, I hope. I know you have your eye on a ring.”
“Fair enough. You’re the only one who knows I’m a bandit.”
“And a Jotnar.”
“And a Jotnar, but let’s?—”
“Maybe I’ll use it against you,” I say with a wicked smile.
He laughs.
“Wouldn’t surprise me. You are a little vixen.”
I gasp, slapping his arm.
“I am not!”
“Okay, okay, you’re a lynx. Here, let’s start.”
He places the splintered bone in my open palm.
“Lynx is better,” I mutter as I feel the splinters. “These might not ruin your wall after all.”
“Just don’t send them my way.”
“I can’t promise anything.”
He looks at my hand, excited to see my magic. How lucky I am, to have such a charming man cheering me on as I explore my talent.
I close my eyes, summoning the memory that anchors Odin’s Thrust. Strange—having him beside me while I use his killing of an innocent man to fuel my magic. I joke about him beinga bandit, but I’m the one deceiving him. I’m the liar. A pout invades my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I… it’s just… I use a memory anchor to power the spell.”
“Experience to manifest effect. I have heard of it.”
I look up at him, unable to hide the surprise from my face.
“You have?”
“I’m a skald, remember?” he says with a wink. “So what’s wrong?”
“The memory anchor I use is… the moment you killed Njord.”
His eyes widen.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
