“I’d probably do all right with that one.” I grinned. It felt weird to say something positive about myself, like I was bragging. But I knew Yulla wouldn’t see it that way.
“Damn straight. Now go on. You said you’re trying to fix whatever’s going on with our sunstones. I don’t know how you plan on fixing it with beet sugar, but I’m pinning all my hopes on you. You’ve got this, my love.”
And with that, I took her hopes and her belief in me and walked out with enough sugar to make at least a hundred moss cakes.
“What else do we need?” Tormund asked, eyeing the mine cart full of baking supplies.
I’d managed to conjure up quite a lot of cave wheat flour, eggs, stalagmite milk, rum, and well over twenty baking trays. Every time I’d knocked on a door, a frantic and wide-eyed dwarf peered out, afraid I was there to give them even more bad news. And once I filled them in on my plan to fix things with moss cakes, life returned to their eyes, they rummaged around in their house, and donated as much as they could possibly find.
Now Tormund and I had over five mine carts packed to the brim with food and baking supplies. I could only hope my plan—which was admittedly ridiculous—would work. The idea of returning to Steingard and the other nearby villages and telling them I failed…well, it wasn’t an option. I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing that resigned sadness filling every face again.
No one wanted to leave their homes and move somewhere else. Their lives were here. Everything—and everyone—they knew and loved were in these cottages dotted around the chasm. To upend everything, to find somewhere new, to start all over again…
There were those who loved to wander. And there were those who found a corner of the world they loved, curled up in the warmth and familiarity of it, and found a happiness so bone-deep they yearned to never leave.
I was beginning to realize most of the people I knew were the latter. And I might be the latter, too.
Gods, I bloomin’ loved this place. I loved The Wet Beard with its booming laughter and ridiculous songs that I could hear while I worked. I loved the sticky tabletops and the sunstone glow and the brew, even if it wasn’t near as good as Lilia’s.
I loved my cottage with its cool stone walls and cozy loft. And my plants, all two dozen of them, battling for dominance and eating all my damn food. I loved Yulla and how her voice echoed through the chasm when she called out at me every morning. I loved the feeling I got in my mind and my bones after a long day collecting sunstones for my village. The pride I felt when I replaced another, contributing something important to those I loved.
I even loved the bloomin’ chasm and the breeze that flowed through it, carrying the scent of the daisies through every village that clustered around it.
It was home.
It was good.
And it wasmine.
Tormund ducked his head before me. “You all right? You’ve gone quiet.”
I smiled up at him. “I’m fine, Tormund. I just…I think I’m finally understanding what you’ve been trying to tell me all this time.”
He brushed my hair away from my face. “And what’s that?”
“I don’t need freedom to be happy. I have everything I could ever want here in these mountains with the people I love and the home I’m lucky enough to have.” I shook my head. “I truly don’t know why I’ve been so determined to get out of here.”
Tormund’s smile went wide. He stood tall and leaned back on his heels, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. “It’s about damn time.”
“I know. It shouldn’t have taken the death of the sunstones to make me realize, but…there really is nothing more important to me than this place and making sure it survives. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
He cocked his head. “Say it, then.”
“Say what?”
“Tell me about your curse. Say the words out loud.”
“But I can’t do that.” I frowned. “If I could, I would have told you about my curse when you first asked me why I was so determined to find the Everstone.”
“Ah ha!” He laughed out loud, his face lighting up. “You just said it. See?”
I stared at him blankly. “What are you talking about?”
“You just said the words. ‘My curse.’”
His meaning hit me like a mine cart full of sunstones. Until now, I’d always had to tiptoe around the truth, even with people who knew about the curse. Even with Lilia, who had somehow extracted every nugget of information I had in my mind about it. All these years, and I’d never been able to even mutter the word ‘curse’ to her. At least not when referencing myself.
And yet, I’d just said it out loud. Nothing had stopped me. My tongue hadn’t twisted; my mind hadn’t gone blank.
