[1 Day until the Gods’ Tournament]

I plunge my scarf into the wash bucket, then pull it out, holding it up to the sun.

Water drips off the cloth, and I flip it over, watching the water run down the side of the fabric. I wring it out, then uncap the water breathing potion, sprinkling a bit over the scarf. I knead the potion into the material, then try again, plunging the scarf back into the water. Once more I lift the scarf from the water, a puddle forming on top of the material and slowly trickling over the side. I hold it up over my head, watching the bottom.

“Doing some laundry?” Iski asks. “You’ve been here a month and a half, I suppose it’s about time.”

I wring out the scarf, flicking the ends against the side of the basin to beat out any excess water. “Hah, hah.”

Iski sets her basket of picked vegetables aside and leans against the side of the inn, watching me. “So what is it you’re actually doing?”

“Waterproofing,” I say, draping the scarf over the drying rack. Given it’s my key into the Blackcloak Guild, I hate the idea of letting it out of reach, even for a minute. But I guess letting it dry for an hour out back is better than wrapping a wet rag around my face.

“Planning on going for a swim, are you?” Iski asks.

I shake my head, putting the cap back on the water breathing potion. My bandolier of potions is on the ground next to me from where I’d removed it from my inventory. I try not to wear it around the inn typically, but the only running water is out here at the pump, and I needed a basin to test my theory.

“That really is some kind of water-proofing potion?” Iski asks, curious. “Sounds pretty useful, actually. Could use some of that around the inn.”

“Well, it’s not made for water proofing,” I say. “I’m… adapting its original purpose.” I wish she’d stop asking questions about my potions. I can’t answer most of them without lies.

“Mhm.” Iski watches me as I strap the potion back on my bandolier. Now the bandolier includes the water breathing potion, two mana drain potions, a bottle of orchid sap, three smoke bombs (two of them modified), a mana potion, a healing potion, an invisibility potion, my Attuned poison, and a pouch of frost seeds. I left the Augment locked in the cabin because I don’t want to risk breaking the bottle and losing the whole store. Not to mention, there’s no point in me carrying it around. It has to be added to a potion as it’s brewing to affect the potency, and I doubt I’ll have a chance to brew potions on the fly in the middle of the tournament.

“I don’t suppose all those other potions are for housework, too?” Iski asks.

I frown, avoiding her gaze as I quickly vanish the bandolier back into my inventory. Iski doesn’t react to the sleight of hand. By now she’s witnessed me do it plenty of times in the kitchen when trying to grab stuff off the top shelf. Not that I intended for her to see the first time. Goblins are surprisingly stealthy.

“I’m heading back to Fairwood tomorrow,” I tell her, dodging the question. “Thought maybe I could sell some.”

She snorts. “And my mom’s a harpy. Please, Sal, you don’t need to insult my intelligence. You want me to believe this has nothing to do with the Gods’ Tournament?”

I glare at her. “And what if it does?”

Iski doesn’t look irritated by my challenge though. There’s no sign of anger or disappointment on her face. She just looks… sad?

“What happened to you was wrong,” Iski says. “No one would deny that. But look… You don’t have to be so set on revenge. You can always walk away. Live a full life. Stay working at our inn—or don’t! The world’s your nut to crack. Just don’t waste it all on a single gamble. Death can’t be solved with more death.”

Her words might have meant something if I actually had any choice in the matter. But she can’t really expect me to throw everything I’ve worked for away, right when it’s within reach, can she?

“I can’t just walk away,” I say. “Someone has to do something. The gods can’t just kill people and get away with it.”

“And what exactly do you think you can do about that?” Iski shoots back. “The title isn’t just for show! Gods are immortal—and their champions might as well be. You really want to end your life making a statement?”

“No!” I say, voice raised. I try to lower it, despite the anger warming my stomach, threatening to grow into a flame. “No. I don’t want to die. I’ve always, always just wanted to live. A normal mundane life. But that choice was taken from me.” Again, and again, and again. “So I’m going to fight back, with everything I have. And if it kills me, at least I’ll go out on my terms. At least I’ll go out on my feet, fighting.”

“You do have a choice,” Iski says. “Just stay here. Don’t leave for Fairwood.”

Like a branch crackling in a fire, I feel something in me snap, and anger burns through me. “You’re not listening. I don’t have a choice!” I grab the band tied around my forehead and yank it down.

Iski frowns at the mark on my head, confused. “Is that Widengra’s symbol? I don’t understand. How did—”

“Maru put it there.” I spit out her name. “It’s a summoning spell. To pull me back to Fairwood to compete in the Gods’ Tournament.”

Her look turns into surprise—and finally, a dawning, dismayed understanding.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Oh, child,” she says, and for a moment, I hear my mom’s voice in hers. “What happened?”

And just as abruptly as the anger swept through me, a great sorrow descends, drowning out the rage. “I didn’t want you and Gugora to know,” I say, slumping as my voice cracks. “I didn’t want you to be there to see.”

“Child.” She pushes off the wall to come over and take my hand, kneeling by my side. “If you’d told us, maybe we could have done something. Perhaps we could have appealed…”

I shake my head, squeezing her hand back. It’s smaller than mine, the size of a child’s, but it’s coarse from years of labor, and its firmness and warmth fills me with a sense of stability. Like a boulder in the sun.

“Maru put the mark there,” I tell her. “There’s no removing it. And tomorrow, it will summon me to the tournament, whether I want to go or not.”

“Abyss take the gods,” Iski swears, startling me. I’d never heard her say a word against them before. “We’ll figure it out. Come on, we need to tell Gugora about this. He’ll help figure something out. He’s good at that kind of stuff.”

I hesitate, torn between two wants. On the one hand, I know there’s nothing they can do. I still ache for revenge. I want to see Maru fall more than anything.

But another part of me is scared, grasping for any form of comfort, and here Iski is, offering it. Telling me it will be okay. They will take care of me. With them, I’m safe.

“You really think anything can be done?” I ask, not daring to let myself hope yet. Hope, once broken, isn’t easily mended. I’m not sure it can ever be fully mended at all. Like pottery glued back together, the scars will always be there.

“We can try, can’t we?” Iski says, standing. Even then, she’s only about eye level. “At the very least, we can try to prepare.”

I don’t get up yet. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that’s what you’re doing with all those potions, right?” Iski asks. “They’re a way to fight back. But even with magic, you can’t underestimate a good blade. I think it’s time you’ve upgraded from that little hunting knife.” Iski gestures to the sheathed blade propped against the drying rack, where I’d removed and placed it so as not to damage the leather while experimenting with my scarf.

“You mean it?” I ask, a different kind of warmth kindling in me. “You would really help me? I can have a real weapon?”

Iski snorts. “Why are you acting so surprised? We’ve been helping you since we first dragged you out of the woods.”

Tears sting the back of my eyes. She’s right. She and Gugora have been so kind to me, so understanding, so patient every step of the way. And I’d been keeping them at arm’s reach. Was I afraid if I let them in, I’d have to deal with losing them one day, too? Like how I lost my parents? Or had I never truly seen this world as my new home, my new future?

Future. An idea I haven’t thought of as real in years.

I let go of Iski to rub my eyes and swallow down the tightness in my throat. “Thank you. You’re right. You two—you two mean a lot to me. I appreciate everything you’ve done. I just—I don’t want to be a burden on you, like I was for… I just don’t want to be a burden. You guys have been like second parents to me.”

“Aw, gods,” Iski says, blinking rapidly herself. “Now you’re going to make me tear up. Well, I never had kids of my own, but I’m sure Gugora sees you as a second daughter. It’s been… some time since he had a family.”

I frown, looking up at Iski. “He has kids?”

“Had,” Iski says shortly. She pats me on the shoulder. “He’ll tell you about them someday, when he’s ready, I suppose. In the meantime, let’s get you on your feet. Come on, we don’t have much time now, do we? And we’ve a lot to prepare for!”

She steps back as I stiffly climb to my feet. I allow myself a small smile. “You were mentioning an upgrade for my knife?”

“Well, we’ve got quite a few hunting weapons lying around,” Iski says, planting her hands on her hips. She frowns in thought, and suddenly she’s the everyday business woman I’m used to, always focused on the next problem that needs solving. “Not enough time to teach you a bow. There’s some short swords that might work, but still not much time to learn the basics.” She jabs an accusing finger at me. “You should have told us about this weeks ago!”

I can’t help but sadly laugh. “You’re right. That was a mistake. How much training do you think we can make up in the next twenty-four hours?”

Iski grins. “That depends. Are you faster at learning weapons than you are at learning to cook?”

“Ouch,” I say, but I’m smiling. Iski’s enthusiasm is infectious. I know there’s less than a day until the tournament. I know the deck is stacked against me. I know I’m just a kid trying to face the gods. But somehow, it all seems a little more possible with Iski and Gugora there to help.

“What’s all this now?” a familiar rumble greets us.

Gugora pokes his head out from the backdoor of the inn. “Been waiting on the tomatoes for ten minutes. Heard a bunch of talking instead. We going to eat dinner, or our words?”

“No time for dinner,” Iski says. “We’ve got a crisis on our hands! Sal?”

He turns to look at me, raising a questioning brow. Even though she’s put me on the spot, it doesn’t feel like an interrogation. It feels like a war room. Like I’m about to lay out all the intel so we can make the battle plan—together, as a team.

“Okay,” I breathe, gathering my thoughts. Where to even begin? With the tournament? With Maru? With why she wants me dead?

“Well,” I say. “I guess I should probably start with the fact that I’m from another world.”

Iski and Gugora stare at me. Then Gugora turns to Iski. “Am I the butt of a joke?”

“Hey, don’t look at me!” she objects. “That’s not what I was expecting Sal to reveal, to say the least.”

I can’t help but grin. It feels good to tell other people. This time it will be different. “It’s not a joke,” I say. “It’s why Maru attacked me in the first place. I arrived here from my world, and she appeared shortly after. She asked which one of us was from another planet, and then she started killing. The others died but I… I guess I just got lucky.”

They’re both staring at me with wide eyes. I don’t know if they’re shocked, or think I’ve gone insane—maybe they haven’t decided yet, either.

I touch the mark on my forehead. “When I ran into her again in Fairwood, she didn’t even remember me. At first I was mad about that, but I guess I lucked out. It doesn’t matter, though, because when this pulls me back to Fairwood to compete in the tournament—”

“When the mark does what?” Gugora interrupts.

“—I’ll have to survive all the other candidates,” I continue. “But even if I manage that, I might have to face Widengra. And if he figures out what I am, then it’s over.” I lift my chin. “But this time I’ll be prepared. I have my potions, I have a plan, and I have you guys. Now all I need to do is upgrade to a better weapon, and—ahh!”

I slap my hands to my head as fire lances through my skull. My skin is burning, a radiating pulse wrapping around my head, starting from—

From my forehead.

“No!” I look in panic at Iski and Gugora, who are staring back in shock.

“Your mark—” Iski starts.

Not yet. Not now! I still need more time!

I can feel the magic activating, pulling me away like I’m a fish on a hook. I look around, mind racing. My scarf! I lunge for it, and my hand wraps around the cloth. What else? My gaze falls to my knife, leaning against the base of the stand. I dart my hand toward it, fingers closing around the handle. Only when they squeeze shut, there’s nothing in my grasp but air.

My surroundings blur into streaks of color. It feels like my brain is about to be ripped from my skull. Then the pain abruptly stops, and the world snaps into focus. I stagger, the ground under my feet not where it's supposed to be. My left hand holds my scarf, still damp from the washtub, but my right hand is empty.

“Welcome, rats,” a familiar voice says.

Hatred stirs within me as I look up. Maru folds her arms, staring back down at me, mouth wide in a spiteful grin. “Ready to have some fun?”