He heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his beard. “I’d just hoped you’d spot something I’d missed. You’ve always had a keen eye for detail.”
“I agree,” Tormund piped up. “Astrid here does notice details others do not. Such as the size of things.”
“Will you stop it?” I hissed at him.
“What’s this about, then?” Jostein asked.
Tormund opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. There was no telling what he’d spout next. “He’s just annoyed the competition has been put on hold, and he’s blaming me for it.”
“I’m sorry, lad,” Jostein said, awkwardly patting Tormund’s shoulder. “I’d reschedule the trial for tomorrow night, but everyone’s feeling uneasy about the missing gem. Once we sort that out, we can get everything back on track.”
“And if no one finds it?” Tormund asked.
“Well.” Jostein tugged on the end of his beard. “I suppose there’ll be no more competition until next year. We’ll just have to throw a party instead. Don’t worry—I can promise you it’ll be quite the show if it comes to that.”
Jostein clapped his hands together and started rattling off things to plan, like he’d already given up on finding theEverstone. I didn’t blame him. Rockheim took in prisoners from other islands, who were promptly put to work, but we here in the north didn’t have much by way of warriors or guards. We’d never needed them, for the most part. The idea we had to track down a thief felt as foreign as the faraway lands of Azraak.
After asking us to inform him if we came upon any clues at all, Jostein eventually wandered off, knocking on nearby doors to tell them the same. His voice drifted toward us, echoing down the chasm. He was already telling people there was going to be a party.
“You’re really not going to tell him about the talon?” Tormund murmured.
“No.” I shook my head. “At least not yet.”
“Then what, pray tell, do you plan to do in the meantime?”
I leaned closer to whisper into his ear, my head bumping against the base of his horns. “I want to find the dragon.”
Unfortunately, the dragon hunting would have to wait until the morning. Lilia and Ragnar descended upon my humble abode only moments later, and then Yulla ventured out of her cottage to see what all the fuss was about. They wanted to know everything. And then they wanted to cheer me up, even though they all knew I’d rather curl up in my house with a mug of tea and my plants rather than traipse across a rickety bridge.
The fact that Everstone was missing was enough. Most of the dwarves down in The Deep didn’t know the details of my curse, but Yulla did. And Lilia, of course. They dragged me from my front stoop and deposited me on a chair at The Wet Beard, then shoved a tankard into my hands.
A bard was already at it, wailing a tune about an orcish woman’s year-long quest through the mountains, searching for a hoard of gold. Along the way, she met all manner of folk: elves and pixies and even mountain trolls. At every stop, she collected a new companion until she had thirty others travelling with her. She never found that hoard of gold, but when she left the mountains, she felt she didn’t need it anymore. She’d found something far more valuable. Kinship, a family of her choosing, a home.
By the end of the song, Lilia had a tear in her eye, which she brushed away before anyone but me saw it. When I caught her in the act, she gave me a wry smile. “Beautiful story, eh? I love a happy ending.”
“You’re such a hopeless romantic.” I clinked my tankard against hers. “To happy endings.” I inclined my head toward Ragnar, who’d gotten into an energetic conversation about knives with Balder, who didn’t know the first thing about blades. Still, he seemed eager to be involved in a conversation that had nothing to do with ale.
Lilia tapped her drink against mine. “I hope you find yours.”
I took a long gulp of the ale before answering. “That’s less likely now that someone has stolen the Everstone.”
I hadn’t mentioned the dragon to her yet, though I would as soon as I could tug her away from the tavern. Out of everyone, Lilia would understand the most. She’d want to protect the dragon, too. And she might have some idea on how best to find one lurking in dwarven mines.
She cocked her head. “I’m not sure you need the Everstone to get your happy ending. You and Tormund seem to be getting along well.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I don’t hate him anymore, but that’s as far as it goes.”
“I don’t think he hates you anymore, either,” she said with a wink.
“Yes, non-hatred. That’s a fantastic foundation for a relationship.”
Shrugging, she gazed adoringly at her man. “Ragnar really annoyed me when I first met him. Well, that’s not quite true. We hit it off, but then he tried to steal my business from me.”
I arched a brow. “Your Travelling Tavern business?”
“That’s right.” Her tinkling laugh warmed me from head to toe. “But it turned out there was more to his story than I knew. He won me over in the end.”
“Well, I know Tormund’s story,” I told her. “He already shared it.”
