As she takes the daisies and places them over her head, my happiness at causing hers too is marred by Thor’s next words. “Don’t change the subject. Just admit you deliberately screwed up the day in the woods.”
“Just drop it, Thor,” says Triton.
“Loki’s being a pain in the ass right now. I’m sick of his so-called jokes. Did you hear what he did yesterday?”
“Your fight with Artemis? Yes. Don’t take it to heart.”
Thor scowls. “He humiliated me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” says Artemis. “It was a bit of fun.”
“For you, maybe.” Thor looks to me. “Now you mention you’ve been chatting to Skoll.” He makes air quotes with his fingers as he says chatting. “What’s that all about?”
“What are you accusing me of?” I growl.
“Where do your loyalties lie, Loki?”
I swallow hard, anger heating my cheeks. “Fuck you!” I shout at Thor. “Just fuck you!”
Scrambling to my feet after my outburst, I ignore the other guys’ shouts at me to come back as I storm across the lawns toward the Academy. Yeah, so he’s pissed about yesterday and the dent in his ego, but accusing me of every little thing that doesn’t go his way annoys me. No. I fight the desire to turn back and fight him, knowing I’d never win.
I’ll never win a physical fight with Thor, but I’m going to hit him where it hurts.
My asshole brother is about to find out exactly why he shouldn’t treat me like this.
28
ARTEMIS
Giants and gods line the street for our entrance to Jotunheim. The stark white world shocks me; I’ve never seen this much snow before, and the place looks as if it’s carved from ice. The citadel we saw in the distance when the clouds between the Academy world and this world parted grows closer, and I marvel at the spire’s height as it pushes into the gray sky, disappearing into the white mists above.
I’m wrapped in a fur-lined cloak over my tunic and pants and forced to wear heavy boots to protect my feet from the cold. My bow is slung across my back, and as I watch the crowds around us, I tighten my grip on the wood. The cloak weighs me down and I feel buried as if beneath the snow itself, leaving me feeling vulnerable and restricted.
Thor strides beside me, drawing whispers from the people lining the street. I don’t miss the way he darts his gaze around the crowds. Do many here know him? Even though Loki isn’t taking part in the Trials, he’s here to support. The rest of us compete but have an understanding that if the Trial becomes a two-horse race with one of our true rivals, we will drop our own attempt to win and work together.
The most important outcome is one of us five wins.
But I detect the undercurrent between myself and Thor after my beating him in our sparring. He won’t want to lose, and I heard Dion telling him not to take his eyes off the real goal by turning this into a petty match between him and myself.
The reason for the tension at our picnic yesterday went over my head until Dion explained. I’m unaware of their whole history, but now know about Loki’s sensitive connection to the giants who fight against Odin. Loki’s father was a giant, and I’m unsure how he became part of Odin’s family. What’s obvious is the acceptance isn’t one hundred percent. In my early days here, I heard whispers over how Loki isn’t a ‘proper god,’ and I’m starting to think his nature is influenced by those around not accepting him as an equal. It’s obvious that Thor doesn’t see Loki this way, or the others, but this reinforces to me that Loki is an outsider as I am.
As we pass through the huge oak doors, I glance at Loki. His face is partially obscured by the cloak’s fur wrapped around his face, but his eyes are dark with anger. If we are to fight in this realm, we must be facing giants.
Loki’s original kin.
I expected ceremony and introductions, the champions introduced to the masses assembled outside, but only a handful of people mill around in the vast hall. The Academy is big, but this cavernous room was built to accommodate the giants I saw amongst the crowds outside. I’ve never witnessed such a sight—children no more than three years old yet bigger than Thor, and their parents hulking in the frozen city.
“Isn’t a Trial a big occasion?” I whisper to Dion as we march up to the judges, our boots sounding on the granite floor and echoing through. “Where is the crowd?”
“The judges are scared people will interfere if too many are allowed close to the event. Only the three judges are allowed close to the action, in case of cheating or injury.”
“Or death?” I put in.
Dion blinks at me. “That’s not a great attitude to take with you into the Trial, Artemis.”
I pull at the stupid ties on my cloak as the thing slips away from my neck under the weight. “I’m not worried I’ll die.”
Dion reaches for my cloak and straightens it across my shoulders. He focuses on his fingers as he re-ties the threads, fingers lingering against my skin. My heart beats faster still when he meets my eyes with his steady look, adding to the adrenaline already coursing through my body.
“I’m worried what might happen you, Artemis.”
He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand and I catch it. “Are you trying to disarm me so you’ll win, Dion?”
“No.” He pulls his fingers away.
His words are edged with hurt, and I regret my instant reaction. But this is a competition. Trials. We’re on the same side, but we still want to win. I glance at the stony-faced Thor. Especially him.
“You’re new to this. That’s all, I don’t want you to get hurt,” Dion says.
“I’m not worried.” When I smile his hesitancy drops and he kisses my nose.
We continue our slow walk across the hall toward a side room, where we’re given time to talk and prepare our strategy. Our weapons have been lain out on a long oak table, alongside a map, filling me with relief. At least I’ll go into this trial feeling prepared.
Dion glances around the room then turns to Triton, and they speak in low tones.
I break the silence Thor and I have maintained since we arrived. “Does a Trial in Jotunheim make things easier for you?”
He turns his head and frowns at me. “No. Why the hell would it?”
I’m riled when he looks away again. “Are you still sulking about our fight in the arena?”
His ice blue eyes return to mine. “I don’t sulk.”
“Of course you don’t.” I can’t resist mock-pouting at him, but instead of smiling, Thor’s annoyed expression switches to pissed.
“This isn’t a joke,” he growls at me. “These people are waiting for me to lose. They want to see Odin’s son beaten—by either the challenge or my rivals, they don’t care which. They want to see me humiliated.”
“Why would they do that?” I ask.
He sneers, but I know this is aimed at others and not me. “Politics. This is an acknowledgement that I support the same changes as Apollo did before his murder. They know after Apollo I’m the strongest competitor. Showing my weakness to the masses is what they want.”
The tension rolling from him reminds me why he’s the god of thunder. But this is good, surely? They’ve provoked the stormy anger that could give him an advantage in a physical trial, which requires agility and strength.
I open my mouth to reply but Thor strides away to speak to a man who accompanied us, the god Hercules, who’s heavily involved with physical training at the Academy.
“He’s right to be pissed.” Loki sits upright on a bench nearby, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I hope this backfires.”
“I heard these giants are your people?” I ask him.
I’m rewarded with a scowl to match his brother’s. “My giant father was not as violent as they say. I refuse to let them provoke and distract me either.”
“You’re not competing though, Loki.”
“No, but they know I’m here to help. I won’t be put off by their games. This is Loki they’re dealing with.”