She cocked her head. “You’re serious about this.”
“Astrid Balstad, I travelled here all the way from Azraak just to find the Everstone. I’m not leaving until I find it. And if that means seeing every inch of these dwarven mines, then so be it.”
And if it means spending all that time with you, even better.
“What about the Fittest Under the Mountain competition?” she asked. “We both entered it. Thor won’t let us walk away.”
“Luckily, I don’t think Jostein will restart the trials until the Everstone is found.”
Astrid shook her head and glanced at the dragon, who’d closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. That or she was lying in wait to see if we’d attempt to steal anything from her. A look of disappointment crossed Astrid’s face. She’d truly believed the dragon had stolen the treasure, and I’d hoped for the same. Deep down, I’d doubted it, though.
Nothing about this sat right with me. And I would not stop searching until I found the answers.
Eventually, Astrid nodded. “All right. Let’s do this. You and me, travelling through the mines.” Then she giggled. My gut twisted again. That beautiful, musical sound. “Hopefully, we don’t end up driving each other mad.”
And hopefully, I wouldn’t fall in love with her by the end of it.
21
ASTRID
The route back to Steingard was long and arduous. I managed to scale the rope to the first hole’s ledge, then use my weight combined with the rock to help Tormund follow. We wound up back in the tunnel where we’d been too busy staring at each other to notice the massive hole in the ground. It turned out that tunnel was a dead end, anyway, so we would have had to turn around and go back if we hadn’t explored the holes.
Tormund spent a long time frowning at the dead end before trailing after me in the direction from whence we came. My limbs felt as heavy as my eyelids, and my mind was too frazzled to conjure thoughts. We were far enough away from the Endless Chasm that we wouldn’t hear the dwarven bell that signalled sundown. I had no idea what time it was or how long I’d been awake. Judging by my staggering exhaustion, it was well past my bedtime.
Still, we carried on, shuffling down tunnel after tunnel—until finally, we walked out into the fresh breeze rolling through the Endless Chasm, the scent of daises wafting toward us. Isquinted, trying to make out where we were, but shadows clung to every ledge, transforming the whole place into nothing more than stone smudges.
“Hmm,” Tormund said from beside me. “I haven’t been here long, but something tells me there’s something very wrong with your sunstones.”
I hadn’t registered it until he said it. We’d spent so many hours in the darkness of the lower mines that the heavy shadows here seemed normal. But every sunstone along the many ledges lining the chasm was almost completely dark. All the bridges were dark, too. A tremor went down my spine. No one was out here replacing the stones, either, as far as I could tell.
It was so quiet, I could hear the distant trickle of cave water trailing down the walls.
“We can’t live like this. Someone has to do something,” I said quietly, resignation settling in my gut. “I can’t go with you, Tormund. I need to help the mining efforts. We need more sunstones to replace all these.”
“Astrid.” He settled a warm, comforting hand on my shoulder. “I think we both know that’s not going to help.”
I closed my eyes, an uneasy breath rattling through me. Things had been off when we’d left. The sunstones at The Wet Beard had been fading. The ones along the bridge near my home had been, too. Even those we’d passed in the mines had seemed dimmer than usual, but I’d been so focused on our quest that I’d banished the problem from my mind.
Now the truth was impossible to ignore.
Something was very, very wrong with our sunstones.
“Come on.” I tugged on his arm, letting my instincts lead the way. Without the sunstones, we had no light, no warmth, and no way to grow food. Our entire society depended on these gems, and if we didn’t find a way to fix whatever was wrong with them, the dwarves would have to find another home.
The idea of it burned the back of my throat. The dwarves had lived here for so long. I couldn’t imagine where else we could go.
The Wet Beard was dark and cold. No one sat at the tables. The bard stage was empty. Empty tankards lined the bar, and no one was in the back office. They’d cleaned up the smashed crate and washed the walls, but the scent of smoke still lingered. Tormund and I looked around for a while, then moved on to the arena where the first trial had been held.
Not a single soul stirred in the expansive space or in the circular stands.
“This is eerie,” I whispered. My quiet voice bounced along the vaulted ceiling. Dust motes danced in the dim light filtering through the small cracks far above. It was the only light I’d seen since leaving the tunnels.
“Everyone’s likely taken refuge in their homes,” Tormund answered. “Many will be frightened.”
“They are,” a deep voice called out from behind us.
I turned to find Jostein emerging from the shadows, his gray brow slamming low over his eyes. He walked slowly, as if the simple act was almost too exhausting to bear. My heart beat painfully against my ribs. I could only imagine how rough the past day must have been, with all the lights blinking out. Jostein would have tried to make order out of chaos and field questions to which he did not know the answers.
