9
ASTRID
“You’re right. This is different from our mines in Azraak. Mind telling me why you thought it was a good idea to build a mine track over a chasm? Without any sort of supportive structure?”
I frowned at said mine track. We were deep within the tunnels now, having lost the echo of dwarven song several caves back. So we’d made it to the Bifrost Crossing—named after the ancient bridge to the gods. The ledge on the other side held the entrance to a lower network of tunnels packed tight with sunstones, onyx, and emeralds. We didn’t venture that far down unless the tunnels near The Wet Beard ran dry, and that rarely happened. The crossing was difficult to navigate.
Still, it had never been treacherous, like it was now.
Where there had once been a wooden bridge connecting this ledge to the next, now it was nothing but open air. The mine tracks over it had been left behind, so it was just metal railings curving over the darkness.
“The wood must have rotted and collapsed into the chasm,” I said, my hollow voice echoing in the cavernous space.
“Hmm. And that usually happens Under the Mountain, does it?” Tormund asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.
“It’s very humid down here if you haven’t noticed.”
“All the other bridges seem fine.”
“Most are made from stone,” I pointed out. “And stone doesn’t rot.”
“Interesting. This mine cart here seems just fine.” And then he grabbed the wooden side of the cart and leapt inside. It rattled and shook beneath him, the wheels scraping against the iron rails. The thing rolled forward—just an inch—but it was enough to make my heart lurch into my throat.
“Are you mad?” I grabbed the side of the cart, dug in my heels, and held it still. Once those things got going, theyreallygot going. Quickly, I jammed the brake into place. “You’ll go flying across the chasm if you aren’t careful.”
“That was the idea,” he replied.
“No.” I tightened my grip on the cart, shaking my head so emphatically that my jangling bells echoed like an eerie song in the shadowy darkness of the chasm. “We are staying on this side of the chasm, thank you very much.”
He levelled his gaze at me. “Don’t tell me something as dull as fear is going to stop you from finding the one thing in this fate-forsaken mountains that could break your curse.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Rude.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.” And despite every instinct telling me not to do it, I hauled myself over the lip of the cart and tumbled right into Tormund’s lap, my legs sticking up in the air. Mouth against his thigh, heat blazed through me. I murmured against his trouser’s rough fabric, “I didn’t really think this through.”
He laughed—a great booming sound that rumbled through me like the familiar roar of the tavern after a long day toiling away in the mines. I’d never heard him laugh like that until now.All his other chuckles seemed diminished compared to this, like he’d been putting on a show.
“That definitely counts as the third,” he said.
“Yes, yes, the third time I’ve fallen over in your presence,” I said, my face still smashed against his leg. I tried not to think about how close my mouth was tootherparts of him, but it was next to impossible.
“At least you’re not denying it anymore.” He wrapped firm hands around my waist, easily lifted me into the air, and plopped me right back down—still on his lap. At least this time I was sitting the right way up. My backside was on his legs, and my head was very much sticking up out of the cart, facing forward. In the direction of the chasm.
The deep dark of it loomed before me like the jaws of a hungry beast.
“This is a terrible idea,” I muttered beneath my breath.
“Personally, I’m having a great time,” Tormund said. “Now, how do we get this thing going?”
I dropped my head into my palm. There was no backing out now. If I walked away from the situation, Tormund would continue onward without me. And I couldn’t let him do that.
Heaving a sigh, I said, “I thought you were a miner. Reach down and pull the brake lever.”
“Our set-up isn’t as elaborate as yours. We don’t have carts and tracks and hundreds of stations set up through the mountain. People would figure out what we were doing if we had too much gear.”
I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder. “How do you mine without it?”
