CHAPTERTEN
As it turned out, going and getting the men from Valhalla had been relatively easy for Muni compared to getting them to give names that would be accepted by the Games council. In the end, they’d compromised and were preparing to watch the line up on the news for this year’s Games. The prize wasn’t as large as some of the other races prior, but sometimes, they just had to find anything at all to give away.
“Did that just say the prize is a ship?” Brin asked in confusion. And then the image moved to a video of the super yacht that would be the prize and Brin’s jaw fell. “Imagine the villages we could pillage with that!”
“Vikings don’t pillage anymore,” Eirik commented. To Muni, he asked, “What’s so special about that yacht?”
“It flies the flag of the Kelpie Councilman. Likely, he wanted to purchase a new one and is giving this one away. It also could come with expectations. I’m not interested in winning such,” Muni murmured, staring at the ship video. It was a nice vessel, for sure, and her need to collect shiny items tempted her to win for it alone, but she knew that wasn’t the mission. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by such things. She was going in to find and destroy the person responsible for Hug’s death and that was it.
Vidar, as seemed to be his norm, sat on the couch away from the rest of them, silently watching the tv, his arms crossed over his chest as if he were offended by the entire world. Knowing him, he probably was. Vidar had a permanent stick up his ass.
The Supernatural Awareness Network, or SAN for short, was the channel to watch for updates, news, or happenings in the world. Tonight, they were announcing the lineup for the Race Games, an announcement that the majority of the supernatural community was waiting for. As each team was released, photos would be shown, and the entire world would know that Munin was alive and well and entering the race. Whoever was responsible for the Council corruption and her brother’s death would know what she sought and would target her.
“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the teams in the six hundred and thirty-third Race Games. Racing for the Werewolf team. . .”
“Werewolves,” Eirik murmured, narrowing his eyes on the screen. “They look normal enough.”
“Most of us look the same as humans,” Muni offered.
“That’s how they get you,” Brin added. “One minute, you think you’re following a beautiful woman into the woods for some celebration. The next, she’s trying to drain you of all your blood.”
Muni raised her brow. “You speak from personal experience?”
Brin met her eyes and grinned. “Obviously, I won the battle, Lady Raven.”
Vidar rolled his eyes but didn’t comment.
“Racing for the elf team. . .”
Muni watched the photos flash across the screen, mostly teams of two as was typical. The Kelpie team came up and she wasn’t surprised again when it was a single image that quickly flashed away.
“And now, racing for the Crow team, our first four-person team,” the announcer began. “Munin, Eirik Berg, Brin the Axe, and Vidar the Slayer.”
“Oh, they took your monikers,” Muni commented just as Brin puffed up his chest in pride.
“My father gave me that name when I single-handedly slaughtered twenty-three men with my axe.” He wiggled his brows at Muni. “I was only nine winters.”
“You’ll notice that the Crow team has four members this year. We’ve never had a team with such high numbers, and I suggest all eyes watch this team to see how things play out,” the announcer continued as if everyone was too stupid to understand the gravity of the situation. “I doubt with a car so heavy, they have any hope of winning the Games, but I’ve been surprised before.”
Try almost always wrong. Bill Faris was more often wrong than not when it came to the Race Games. There was still a video going around of him mocking the Vampire King’s choice in Danica Dyers as his driver. To this day, the news announcer elf had yet to apologize for the slight.
Still, despite being a part of the race, Muni noticed many of the teams were either elite themselves or were heavily endorsed by elite members. It still showed the corruption of the games. Except for the werewolves—who were always lower income than most other creatures—the other teams came from money or grew their own money. It was a sad effect of the games, a way for them to gatekeep those who would gain some sort of power if they won.
“I don’t know whether to be excited about all these things being real or terrified,” Eirik commented, looking up at Muni. “You’re not human, right?”
“I am not.”
Eirik shrugged. “I like you, so maybe it’s not so bad then. Now I’ll stare at every face though.”
“Spot the vampire,” Brin nodded. “We used to play that as children.”
Eirik’s face twisted in disbelief.
The TV flashed from Bill to an ad for the show coming up next. “Last time, on Supe Island, Julia Wildthorn sent home the widely beloved Pete Giles. Will she regret her decision, or will she choose the hot-headed necromancer with a penchant for raising the dead at the most inappropriate times? Stay tuned to find out!”
Eirik blinked at the TV. “I have no words. . .”
Muni smiled and settled back. She was curious herself if Julia would pick the necromancer or the beautiful fae male who flaunted how well-endowed he was. Julia certainly had a type, and it wasn’t anything good.
The Wildthorn family would be so proud.