A hush went through the crowd. Two dwarves I didn’t recognize strolled through the arched gate balancing a large sculpture beneath a fluttering red cloth. Long gauzy gowns swept down to their sandalled feet, and their hair was twisted into intricate patterns and decorated with blue tinkling bells. The color of their bells meant they were from Rockheim, an enormous city that was a week-long trek south through the mountains.
I straightened as they approached Jostein. Most residents of Rockheim didn’t venture this far north, not even for the trials. Too backwoods and boring, I’d often heard them say. And yet they’d come bearing some kind of prize…When they reached Jostein’s side, he turned toward me and gave me a meaningful stare. And without further comment, he whisked the cloth off the statue they held.
A gleaming emerald shard erupted with light. I gasped and stumbled back, so caught off guard, my legs nearly twisted beneath me. I’d read its description a hundred thousand times, and yet I still wasn’t prepared for how brutally beautiful it was. Life itself seemed to pour from its flickering depths, and the buzz of its power filled my head.
But the sound soon vanished beneath the thunder of four thousand dwarves cheering and clapping and stomping their feet on the ground.
“That’s the Everstone,” the dwarf beside me exclaimed.
“It damn well is,” I said, my heart pounding.
The Everstone was finally here and right in my grasp…but it wasn’t mine. After all theeffortand the hoping and dreaming, I hadn’t found it. I’d been looking in the wrong place. It’d been in the southern mines, and I never would have thought to look there. I’d been convinced it was north all this time.
I’d spent all my life chasing something that I’d never been fated to find. And there was only one way I could get it now.
My pulse thrummed in my neck.
Moments stretched by, and the cheers grew louder. I swallowed the lump of sunstone in my throat. Eventually, Jostein lifted his hand, and the thunderous sound died.
“As I’m sure you’ve all guessed, the champion of this year’s games will win the Everstone,” he said, his voice more hushed now than before. “This stone holds great power. Whoever wins these trials will have earned it.”
I leaned forward to look down the row of contestants. Tormund stood with his head cocked, a furrow on his brow that likely matched my own troubled expression. Hmm. That was odd. I’d assumed he’d be thrilled by this development. He wanted to win the trials, and he wanted the damn stone. This way, he could kill two birds with…well,one stone.
I would have laughed at my own joke, but the thickening disappointment in my gut held it back.
“Can you believe this?” Knut asked from beside me, eagerly rubbing his hands together. “This year is going to bemyyear, I can feel it.”
I frowned. “What makes you think you can beat Galinn?” Or Tormund, for that matter. Because as grudging as I was to accept it, there was something about the shadow demon that told me he’d do well in all these tasks. Perhaps he wouldn’t have the greatest strength in the field, but he was quick on his feet, he was smarter than I’d given him credit for, and he was determined. Mental toughness went a long way in games like this.
Knut scoffed. “Galinn has won far too many times. He’s past his prime, and I’ve come close in the past.”
Knut had in fact not come close. He’d come second, but there’d been miles between him and Galinn every time. And it would continue that way for a while.
Dwarves lived long, long lives. Not as long as elves, but much longer than humans. It was useful when working in the mines. Those of us who took up the pickaxe had years to craft our expertise and efficiency, honing our skills to perfection. Our primes lasted decades. Galinn was still a young lad, especially compared to some of the other contestants in the arena. He likely wouldn’t hit his peak for another ten years, if not more.
“I think he still has some fight left in him,” I said gently.
But Knut rubbed his hands together, shaking his head to dismiss my words. “No, he’s had his time. Someone needs to make a comeback, especially with the Everstone up for grabs. That makes for a much better story, don’t you think?”
I loosed a bitter laugh. “If it’s a good story that you’re after, then I’m the one who should win.”
He cocked his head and studied me. “You know what? You’re right. Fates, I’d love it if you snatched the win from Galinn’s greedy paws.”
I rose my brow. “It was a joke, Knut.”
“But what an amazing joke it would be to see the look on Galinn’s face whenyou, of all dwarves, took the win from him after he’s dominated for so bloody long. To get the Everstone. What a story, Astrid. If only you had the skills to do it.”
Heaving a sigh, I turned my attention back onto the Everstone, gleaming in the distance. “I’m getting really tired of everyone thinking I suck.”
“Then prove us all wrong.”
My hands curled by my sides, almost into fists. A part of me deep down wanted to do just that. I could picture it all inmy mind’s eye. Me, sprinting across the finish line first. Me, raising my hands before the cheering crowd. Me, clutching the Everstone to my chest and making my wish. Asking it for the freedom to explore the lands beyond these mountainous walls.
My prison cell.
My caged bars.
My invisible bonds trapping me in place.
