FIFTEEN
MAGNI
I made it maybe two miles from Mimir’s well before my body’s scream for reprieve became too much to bear. Judging from the low set of the sun, it’d taken more than five hours to cover the short distance.
“We need to rest,” Annabel said. She’d been walking behind me for the past mile or so, taking up a position of protection I should have offered her. Not the other way around.
Saga looked over his shoulder at me, and I gritted my teeth in expectation of his challenge.
“I’m fine,” I sneered. “We push on.” I’d rather die than he know how weak I was right then. If he did, there’d be nothing stopping him from taking Annabel.
My lungs constricted at the thought, and I pushed down a wave of nausea.
If he took her from me, the gods would perish.
“No,” Saga said, surprising me
