Aleksei’s comment twisted in my ears as we rode to a clearing in the forest where thegns and drengs and heerthmen and noblewomen stood silhouetted by huge blossoms of flame. I spotted Huginn and Muninn immediately in their black cloaks, and a crowd surrounded the oldest Asgard boys, their shadows stretching out past the edge of the woods. A group of small boys trundled a wheel along the tree line to whoops from those watching. But as Torden helped me off Gullfaxi’s back, the night and the crowd suddenly pressed in on me, and I wished I could shrink into myself and disappear.

“Don’t be nervous.” Torden’s beard rasped against my cheeks as he kissed my temple. “Come on. Tonight is going to be fun.”

I nodded, and as he led me after his brothers through the reeking smoke, J.J. bounded over, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey! Selah! Hey, guys!”

“You didn’t want to trundle the wheel with the other boys?” Torden rumpled the toboggan on his head, his smile a little regretful. “Or are you too old for that?”

“I was too late. We almost didn’t come.” J.J. frowned at the protocol officer approaching us, with Lang close behind. “Sir Perrault doesn’t like to go outside.”

“I wasn’t going to miss it.” Perrault eyed me keenly. He nodded at the nearest bonfire, belching noxious smoke. “Still, can you blame me? They’re burning garbage. And are those—bones?” His pretty lips curled in disgust.

“To keep the dragons away,” Bragi called cheerfully. Hermódr rolled his eyes and laughed.

Aleksei leaned close, voice conspiratorial but loud enough for everyone to hear. “The old wives’ tales say that dragons, ah, get excited in the summer.” He laced his fingers together. “When they come together in the air—”

I clapped my hands over J.J.’s ears.

Torden cut Aleksei off with a look. “The stench is to keep dragons away so they don’t poison the wells.”

“I’m not a baby,” J.J. protested, squirming in my grasp.

“I know, but you’re my favorite.” I hugged him impulsively, then let him escape.

Lang laughed, clapping a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Girls like her will look different in a year or two, J.J.”

Fredrik took a drink and cocked his head sharply. “You think so, Captain?”

Lang coughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I only meant—”

“We also pick mistletoe on Midsummer’s Eve,” Hermódr broke in. His eyes darted around behind his glasses, his smile looking oddly pasted on. “All the old stories say that if it is cut without an iron tool and doesn’t touch the ground, mistletoe picked on the full moon can heal and keep harm away.”

Aleksei tipped his chin at Torden and me, eyes innocent. “It helps couples make babies, too—I’d be careful.”