I leaned in and whispered to Rivelin. “What do you think that’s about?”
Rivelin frowned and shook his head. I knew what he was thinking. It was almost impossible Viggo had decided to forfeit his place in the Games, especially after winning the first. That could only mean he had something up his sleeve. Judging by his relaxed posture and the hint of smugness on his face, he clearly thought whatever he had could win.
And if he won two out of four…that could effectively clinch the entire competition for him.
“You don’t think—” I started to say just as a sharp, high-pitched whistle rent the night.
Bright orange light streaked through the sky and exploded in a confetti of sparks overhead. A hush went through the crowd as the first blast was soon followed by another—this time in a brilliant red. Then another in golden yellow. Again and again the sparks filled the sky, the light reflecting on the awestruck faces of the spectators.
Movement caught my attention down the row of competitors. Viggo smiled and lifted his hands to his sides, motioning at the display and mouthing something I couldn’t hear over the blasts. I didn’t need to, though. It was clear this was his submission for the Fildur Trial.
Something stirred in my chest. It truly was breathtakingly beautiful, and it was almost impossible not to revel in it. I looked up at Rivelin, noting the tightness of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. Whatever this display was, it would win, and I didn’t know what to say to ease his frustration.
When the final spark blinked out of the night sky, the crowd cheered. Then came the presentation for the rest of us. The others went first, showing off their grilled fish and their candles, which only resulted in a mild, scattered applause. Rivelin held up the dragon when it was our turn. The cheers were louder this time but nothing compared to the response to Viggo’s sky of sparks.
We wandered away from the stage when it was over. One by one, spectators came to add their votes to the glass jars. It didn’t take long to see there would be a clear winner.
“I’m sorry,” I said to him as we grabbed two bowls of bread and stew from one of the many market stalls. “I know how hard you worked on that dragon.”
“I can’t be angry when someone wins by besting my own effort,” he replied.
“I don’t think it’s your effort he bested. He just made something…well, remarkable. Whatwasthat?”
The tables were packed, so we found a couple of crates stacked up near the line of merchant stalls and settled in to eat our dinner. Rivelin took a few bites before finding an answer to my question.
“I’ve never seen anything like it before, and I daresay no one else has, either. Must be something only fire demons know how to make. That’s why he’ll win.”
“Looks like we’ll stay in second, though.” I nodded toward the stage in the distance. Spectators were still making their votes, but from here, it was clear to see we’d remained the runner-up. Unfortunately for the other two contestants, Hege and Godfrey, very few had voted for them. They didn’t stand a chance any longer.
“Those votes won’t be enough, not unless we win the final two challenges by a landslide,” said Rivelin.
“Vindur and Jordur. Air and Earth.”
“And I can’t say I have anything good up my sleeves for either of them, unless you use the Vindur sand Kari gave you,” he said. “Even then, I don’t know what we’d do with it.”
We finished our dinner, and Rivelin went to say hello to his sister. I offered to return our bowls to the merchant, telling him I’d catch up when I was done. I was halfway to the stall when a weird hiss sounded from the bushes nearby.
“Psssh. Daella,” a harsh voice whispered.
Frowning, I edged closer to the bush. A hand shot out from the branches, grabbed my arm, and tugged me through the scratchy plant. I cursed and spun away, only to come face-to-face with Gregor. He looked terrible. Purple stains rimmed his bloodshot eyes. His golden hair was askew, like it hadn’t seen a brush in months, and dirt splattered his trouser knees. Had he been crawling in mud? No matter. The worse shape he was in, the easier it would be to defeat him.
He held up his hands as I launched my fist toward him. “Stop. I’m not trying to hurt you.”
I froze. “Right. You just ambushed me when I was alone because you want to make nice.”
“Actually, I do. We need to talk about Rivelin.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What about Rivelin?”
“He’s using you.”
“You’re a couple weeks too late. He’s helping me. I’m helping him. Neither of us is using the other.” Not anymore.
“Oh yeah? Helping you with what, exactly?”
“None of your business,” I snapped.
With a shake of my head, I turned to go.
