“It’s been a couple months since I had any cocoa,” Tormund said. “And based on your moans of pleasure, I definitely want to wrap my tongue around a piece of it.”
I coughed, my face flushing. Every word that jumped to the tip of my tongue died before I could speak it. Before I could conjure a reply, Lilia leapt to her feet. She tossed a second gold-wrapped bar across the table, and Tormund snatched it mid-air, reacting with the speed and grace of someone who’d spent a lot of time honing his reflexes. Hmm.
“Have that one,” Lilia said. “I brought an extra for the winner.”
Tormund’s brow arched. “You flatter me. The competition hasn’t even begun.”
“You better prove me right and win then, eh?” She smiled.
I shook my head, promptly settling back onto my stool and whisking my own bar out of sight. I’d promised my neighbor a square of this, plus I wanted to ration the rest. Clearly, I couldn’t eat it out in the open without risking losing it to a thief. And with my back now firmly pointed in Tormund’s direction, I figured he’d take the hint that I was done with the conversation.
He did not take the hint.
Palming the table, he leaned in, the light of the sunstone lamps glinting off his horns. “Astrid, eh? That’s what you said your name is?”
“Yes,” I said, keeping my eyes forward. His face was far too close to mine for comfort.
“Then you’re the one who knows all about the Everstone.”
I bristled. “And what makes you think that?”
“I asked around about it. Everyone said you’re the expert.”
Narrowing my eyes, I risked a glance in his direction. His eyes were keenly focused on my face, like he was trying to read my reaction—and like he was far too interested in what I had to say. How did he even know about the gem?
I frowned. “I thought you were here for the competition.”
Down here in The Deep, us dwarves had tried to keep the matter of the Everstone to ourselves. We hadn’t wanted word to spread to the mainland, where Isveig, the ice giant conquerer, had ruled with an iron fist. Isveig had been exactly the kind of person who’d try to take the stone for himself. ‘Course, he’d been defeated over a year ago. And so some of us—not me, of course—had gotten too lax about the stone. Someone must be talking.
Tormund’s eyes sharpened on my face. “Oh, I’m here for the competition, love. Worried I’ll best you?”
I snorted. “Me?”
His eyes dropped to my chest. I flushed and crossed my arms over my ample bosom. “Excuse me. Eyes up here, or else I’ll—”
“You have a pin on your tunic.”
“What? No, I…” I looked down, and the glint of the metal pin stopped me short. It sat proudly on the right side of my chest for all to see. “But…I didn’t put that there.”
I tried to pry it off my tunic, but it was stuck there. And it would remain so until the end of the competition. Thor, the god who blessed this competition, didn’t much like quitters. Once someone entered this damn thing, there was no backing out of it. ‘Course, I’dneverenter the Fittest Under the Mountain willingly. For one, I wasn’t all that fit. And for two…well, I didn’t care much about winning, except when it came to the Everstone.
“It won’t come off. Thor doesn’t much like quitters,” Tormund said, repeating my exact thought, like he’d been reading my mind or something.
I scowled up at him. “Youdid this. You somehow put the pin on me. All so you could what? Keep me distracted while you hunt for the Everstone? Or fates, maybe you’rereallytrying to get rid of me so I’m not a problem.”
With my anger narrowed on Tormund, I was able to keep my panic at bay. Truth was, no one had ever died participating in the Fittest Under the Mountain, even if it was dangerous at times. But that was because no one entered who couldn’t handle it.
And as decent as I was at mining, I wasn’t evencloseto being prepared for this.
“There are far easier ways to get rid of someone.” Tormund leaned down, palmed the table on either side of me, and levelled his gaze with mine. I swallowed and tried to shuffle back, but the table blocked my way. “My plan is much simpler. I’m going to find out everything you know about the stone. Then I’m going to take itandthe champion’s cup.” His eyes dropped to my pin again. “Good luck with the competition.”
He pushed away from me and strode back over to his table. The murmur of voices suddenly rose in his wake, and it was only then I noticed the entire tavern had hushed to listen to our conversation. Narrowing my eyes, I yanked at the pin again. The damn thing clung to my tunic like a cavern pond’s leech.
“Oh, Astrid.” Lilia knelt before me, her brow furrowed. “I’m so sorry. We’ll find a way to get this pin off your shirt.”
I shook my head. “It’ll never come off, Lil.”
“Hmm. You might be right.” She sighed. “Well, that’s fine, then. It doesn’t need to come off. You just won’t compete. Problem solved.”
