“No, I don’t think so.” I swallowed, glancing back at the char. “If I were to guess, that’s from a dragon.”
14
ASTRID
“If there’s a dragon in the mines, don’t you think we should go straight to Jostein about it?” Tormund asked, still eyeing the talon. Balder had arrived only a few moments later, and Tormund had whisked the claw out of sight. But now that we were back at my cottage, he’d brought it back out again.
I’d asked him to give me a moment to think before we decided what to do about it. But at least an hour had passed since then, and I was no closer to knowing than I had been before.
“I am on the fence about that,” was my reply.
“A dragon who now has the power of the Everstone?” Tormund looked up. “Sounds like a dangerous combination.”
“Look at the size of that talon,” I told him. “It’s barely as big as your hand.”
“You make my hands sound small,” he countered. “I can assure you, they are plenty large enough, just like the rest of me.”
I blinked, my chest warming. “I’m going to choose to ignore the last part of that comment. But yes, while you are—”
“Big.” He grinned.
I rolled my eyes. “Dragons are supposed to be incredible, majestic beings.”
“Are you saying I’m not majestic?”
“Can we please focus on the task at hand?”
“I don’t know.” His smile widened. “Are you able to focus, or am I too distracting? Is it my big hands? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you keep looking at them.”
“I am looking at thetalon.” I cleared my throat. Truth was, he’d caught me. Ihadbeen looking at his hands, but only to measure the size of the talon. I hadn’t been wondering what exactly he meant bybig. Or what else might be even larger. “What I’m trying to say is that a full-grown dragon’s talon would be much larger than that. This one belongs to an adolescent.”
“All right. That seems possible. I’m not sure where you’re going with this, however.”
“Well, I don’t want anyone to hurt him. Or her,” I said.
Tormund’s lips quirked up in the corners. “You want to protect the dragon—the one who stole your coveted Everstone.”
“I mean, according to you, it’s a fake, so.”
“And you don’t believe it is?” He cocked a brow.
“I don’t see what anyone would get out of it.”
“Get out of what?” Jostein asked as his boots tapped the stone path. He came to a stop a few feet away, his wide eyes surveying the mess of vines. “You still haven’t trimmed these plants?”
“That’s why I started carving out a new space,” I said, jerking my thumb toward the abandoned pickaxe and the small curve in the wall.
He shook his head. “Nevermind that. Did you find anything at the tavern?”
“No,” I said tightly, then gently elbowed Tormund’s side.
He grinned up at Jostein. “Just a lot of ale. Say, you ever think about putting a hearth in the tavern? It’d be nice and cozy to have somefirein—ow!”
“Oh, sorry,” I chirped, removing my elbow from his side. “Didn’t realize how close you were.”
Jostein frowned. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it seeing as the tavern isn’t mine. I can make the suggestion to Balder, but I can already tell you his answer. He’ll say there’s not enough space, and he’d rather have the bard stage than a hearth. But nevermind all that. You really didn’t find anything?”
“I suppose it was only wishful thinking,” I said quickly. “I mean, you’d already searched for answers, right?”
