“No one should have to remain in the darkness forever, not even a shadow demon.”
Something in my chest stirred. I cleared my throat, at a loss for words. Not something I often experienced. A moment ago, confiding in Astrid had been the last thing I’d wanted to do. She clearly hated me. And I wasn’t too fond of her, either.
But she’d listened to my story—the little of it I’d told—and she’dheardme.
That didn’t mean I’d let her have the Everstone, though. It was mine.
8
ASTRID
Iled the way past The Wet Beard, my heartbeat pounding in time with my heavy steps. The tavern was heaving this time of night. Dwarves were packed inside. Some leapt on top of tables, stomping their feet as they slurred the words to the bard’s latest tune. Several elves, pixies, and humans had joined them—spectators who had travelled from the other Isles. Many of them were likely sharing the cavern camp with Tormund and his friends, but they’d chosen the tavern and its festive atmosphere to pass the evening. The dwarves would celebrate long into the night.
My brow furrowed as I ruminated on Tormund’s confession. His brother’s affliction sounded a lot like my own, though mine was a curse and his was an illness. Still, what were the bloomin’ odds? And how did a shadow demon come down with something like that? They thrived in the shadows, fed upon them. I had to admit, Tormund’s powers were likely why he had done so well in the first trial.
These trials had been designed with dwarves in mind, but the darkness of The Deep was perfect for shadow demons.
Lost in thought, I nearly missed the tunnel’s entrance. I came to a sudden stop at the mouth of the mine. Tormund ran into me. Breath knocked from my lungs, I stumbled forward, but his hand caught me before I fell again.
The heat of his palm seeped into my skin. Gods, he was so bloomin’ warm.
“That would have been the third time my presence made you faint,” he said, though his voice still held traces of the tension from earlier. He’d practically had to force out his story about his brother, what little he’d said. I’d wanted to know more—so much more—but it was clearly difficult for him to talk about, so I hadn’t pushed.
“What did I tell you about egos and tunnels?” I asked, turning to face him. He hovered right there, only an inch away. I swallowed hard and backed up.
“Even a dragon-sized ego could fit inside this one.” He gestured down the tunnel, still lit by the sunstones scattered around the floor. A mine cart sat just inside the entrance, overflowing with the gems. Soon, someone would come along to take them to the homes or bridges that needed them.
“You haven’t seen the end of it yet,” I replied crisply.
We started off down the tunnel. As Tormund had noticed, it started off plenty wide enough for us to walk side by side. Now and then, Tormund commented on what he saw. The first mining station held pickaxes of every size. He asked if we should grab some. I firmly told him no. Then he noticed the green mineral veins forking through the stone walls. He pointed out that they were the same color as the Everstone.
“Very good,” I said. “I wondered how long it would take you to notice that.”
“That’s why you thought it was down here. Because of the mineral traces.”
“Seems like the logical conclusion,” I said with a shrug.
He eyed me as we passed another cluster of sunstones jutting out of the carved stone wall. “There’s more you’re not saying.”
I ground my teeth. How was he so good at reading me? We’d known each other for all of a day, and I wasn’t sureknowwas the right word for whatever this was. Acquainted? Still didn’t feel right. We were like two ships passing in the night. Not that I’d ever seen a damn ship in my life, other than in the books that passed through now and again. Leather-bound tomes were another thing that was too fragile for the humidity in The Deep. We had a library aboveground, of course, but I hated asking others to grab the books for me.
“I don’t know what gives you that impression,” I snapped.
“You’re tense.”
“Yes, you seem to cause that reaction in me.”
He shot me a wolfish smile. “It’s my muscly charm, isn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes. “I never should have mentioned your bloomin’ muscles.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” Slinging his hands into his pockets, he sauntered beside me in that ridiculous swagger of his. “Because now I will never let you forget it.”
“Luckily, you’ll be long gone in a fortnight, and I’ll never have to hear about it again,” I replied with a sweet smile.
“Until next year. When I come back to compete again.” He waggled his brow at me.
I slowed to a stop. “Surely not.”
