‘It gets better,’ he assured her. ‘When the dragon felt the severing of their bond, it incinerated the snivelling Vaskan prince where he stood. And his mercenaries for good measure.’
She stared at him blankly.
‘That was the happy bit,’ supplied Alarik.
She remained unconvinced. ‘What became of the dragon?’
Alarik drew a breath. This was the part he was afraid of. Would she laugh at him, or think him foolish? ‘My father used to say it retreated deep into the mountains. Cowed by grief and pain, it grew angry and restless, and so the soldiers at Grinstad had no choice but to keep it there. Trapped.’ He swallowed. ‘Eventually it fell into a slumber, sleeping deep and undetected as the ice crept over it and froze its thundering heart.’
There was a long, interminable silence. She pressed her lips together, taking in the weight of his words.
‘It’s just a theory,’ Alarik felt compelled to say. ‘Over a year ago, there was a great quake here at Grinstad. We pulled an ancient witch from one of the mountains. She had been slumbering there for a thousand years. I can’t help but wonder what else might have awoken during the avalanches that followed. When the deep ice began to melt …’
Frowning now, Greta looked past him, towards those unknowable snow-swept mountains. ‘I don’t know what a dragonfeelslike.’ She rubbed the space above her heart. ‘I’ve never … well, I have no experience …’
‘You don’t believe me mad for thinking it?’ he said.
She looked at him again, sincerity in that stormy gaze. ‘No,’ she said, quietly. ‘And that’s the trouble.’
Well, indeed.
‘If there is a dragon in those mountains, I’m afraid it’s very much awake. It’s trapped.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I don’t relish the thought of being eaten while we’re on the verge of war.’
‘Do you think Regna knows about it?’ she asked.
Another thought that kept him up at night. Did the queen of Vask have a spymaster skilled enough to rival his own? ‘I don’t know.Though I can’t imagine she’d have the courage to do anything about it if she did.’
The wrangler returned her gaze to the mountains. ‘Is there a way to get inside?’
‘Only the old mining tunnels.’
‘I could go in. Try and find it. Perhaps even try and wrangle—’
‘No.’ The word was sharp and fast, and utterly final. ‘No.’
Had she lost her senses entirely, or was this some misguided attempt to impress him?
He cleared his throat, reaching for his composure. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
He would not risk it. He would not risk his kingdom. Not while there was war to consider. They had enough enemies to worry about, without adding a raging dragon to proceedings.
And even if the beast could be wrangled, she was Tor’s little sister. He wouldn’t send her into those cruel, cursed mountains to chase a thing they knew nothing about. Better to keep it trapped. It was safer that way, smarter. ‘Put it out of your mind for now. Devote your efforts to my beasts. The ones we can use against Regna.’
She swallowed, fighting the words she no doubt wanted to say, quelling that indomitable spirit that made her reckless in the face of her king. And yet a part of Alarik enjoyed it – how obvious that struggle was, how it made her squirm in frustration. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again—
‘Don’t ruin a perfectly good day by arguing with me, Iversen.’
‘I could help it,’ she said, anyway. ‘Maybe it could even help you—’
‘If you want to be helpful, turn your thoughts to today’s task.’ Something they could control, not some unnamed, hidden creature that might devour her. His eyes flicked to those silver scars on her left cheek, curiosity mingling with unease. ‘The matter is closed.’
She turned away, tugging her hood up to hide her face, and he regretted his obviousness just now, and worse, that she might think he was judging her.
‘Pardon my intrusion,’ Lief piped up, reminding Alarik of his very existence. ‘But I couldn’t help but shamelessly eavesdrop on some of your conversation. Without overstepping—’
‘You are already lunging,’ interjected Alarik.
