I’d shut and locked it before heading to Tormund’s camp, and vines burst through the cracks, spilling out onto my front stoop. The two windows facing us were crowded with a bundle of leaves and stems and—I cocked my head—were those more daises?
“All right. What is going on.” A statement, rather than a question. It looked like the daisies had gone and taken over my entire house, not that they’d been far off it before.
“Fates if I know.” Yulla leaned sideways and tipped her head into my line of sight. She fiddled with her long braid, jingling her bells. “Say, got any more of that chocolate? A bite of it might just help you figure out what you need to do next…”
I slid my eyes from the vines straining against the windowpanes. She grinned at me, the faint lines around her mouth deepening into grooves. I’d always thought those lines said more about her life than she realized. A few years back, she’d lost her husband in a trading accident—his ship had gotten caught up in the Elding, the vicious storm that protected the Isles from intruders. She didn’t speak about it much, but I knew from those lines just how happy she’d been. They were like footsteps in the sand. Evidence of how often she’d been there.
I hoped one day she could find something that would deepen those lines even more.
For now, all I could offer her was chocolate. I dug into my tunic and pulled out the remnants of the bar. Half of it was already gone, but I could spare some for an old friend. I snapped off a piece and pressed it into her hand. Then I popped another square into my mouth. The gooey chocolate melted on my tongue. It did in fact make me feel better.
Abitbetter.
“This is more delicious than the last bar Lilia brought you,” Yulla mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate.
“So bloomin’ delicious, right? I don’t think this is going to make the plants calm down, though.”
“Well.” She propped her fisted hands on her hips. “Should we see what the inside looks like?”
Shrugging, I went over to the door and hauled it open. Vines spilled out onto the front stoop and surrounded my boots within seconds. Yelping, I jumped back before they could snare me in their embrace.
“Hmm,” Yulla said from behind me.
I peered inside. The plants had well and truly descended into pure madness. They’d taken up every inch of available space, curling around my dining table, my sofa, and even my barrels of ale. I had a feeling the bed in the loft would be covered, too.
“I don’t think I’ll have good luck sleeping here tonight.” I backed away slowly, my eyes locked on the twitching vines. They seemed to have a mind of their own, and I wasn’t about to tempt fate, though their little curling leaves were awfully cute.
“Maybe it’s those moss cakes,” Yulla said, pointing at the basket still firmly squatting on my dining table. Several of the vines had curled into the basket, sticking their ends inside the fluffy cakes. Like they were feasting upon the sugary goodness. “You use a different recipe or something?”
“Jostein brought them.” I frowned. Tormund’s words filled my mind. He was convinced the Everstone was some kind of fake, that someone was tricking the contestants into believing it was real.
Jostein had unveiled the gem. And he’d brought me the moss cakes.
But surely not…Jostein had always looked after me. He looked aftereveryone. There was no bloomin’ way he wasbehind this. Still…it stuck out to me as a strange and unlikely coincidence.
“Well, regardless, you need some place to sleep, but the best I can offer you is a pile of blankets on the floor.” She patted me on the back. “You’re welcome to that, of course, but I won’t be offended if you choose to go somewhere else. I’m sorry I don’t have more space.”
Yulla and her three children were crammed inside their little cottage. They couldn’t carve an expansion because the rock behind their home was the back wall of another cottage, and the chasm sat directly to the left. Anytime I suggested they move, Yulla looked at me like I’d asked her to go the rest of her life without chocolate. She’d lived in that cottage all her life. She wasn’t leaving.
“Thanks, Yulla,” I replied, “but I don’t want to get in the way.”
She swatted my arm. “Nonsense. You’re always welcome.” When I didn’t immediately answer, she brushed her hands on her apron and glanced wistfully at her home. “Well, listen. You think about it. If you want a blanket pile tonight, just knock. I’ll be up for another hour or two at least.”
I smiled. “You’re a good friend.”
“You best believe it.” With a wink, she returned to her cottage. As soon as she vanished through her front door, I turned back to mine. For the first time I could remember, the amount of greenery vastly outweighed stone. The leaves seemed to glisten beneath the orange glow of the nearby sunstones, and the vines curled toward them, as if reaching for the soothing warmth. I couldn’t help but smile. It might be an incredible inconvenience, but it sure was pretty.
And so I climbed inside the cracked door, grabbed my pillow and blanket, and returned to my front stoop. This would make as good a spot to sleep as any.
11
ASTRID
The next few days passed in a much more familiar rhythm than those that had come before. I woke as soon as the morning bell signalled dawn, broke fast with Yulla and her family, collected my pickaxe, and went to work in the mines. From morning until late afternoon, I pried the sunstones from the cavern walls and added them to the growing piles. Life was the same as it ever was. The only difference was, I didn’t relax at the end of a long day. I returned home and carved into the rock face beside my cottage. It would take me several months to get a new room sorted, but it would be worth it in the end.
Yulla groaned and wiped the sweat from her brow, leaning heavily on her borrowed pickaxe. “I don’t know how you do this every day. My body feels like it’s been thrown down the chasm. Even my pinky finger hurts.”
I smiled and held out a hand for the tool. “You take a break. We’ve been at this for hours.”
