“Overgrown spiders,” I said when I reached her front stoop. “It was a good idea, though I’ll admit I’m surprised. I thought the dwarves of The Glass Peaks were peaceful folk. Youarepart of the Isles the last time I checked, and they’re famous for being a haven from violence and all things rotten in this bloody world.”
“I’ll remind you that it wasyourchoice to go down that tunnel, not mine. In fact, I went in the opposite direction.”
“And you wouldn’t have felt even a flicker of guilt if the thing had killed me.”
She laughed. It was a light, tinkling sound that jingled like the bells she wore in her hair, echoing all around us. Her eyes crinkled in the corners. Rose dusted her cheeks. Fate be damned, she looked beautiful like that. If I were a different sort of man with a different sort of goal, I could see how I might betempted to do anything in my power to get her to laugh like that again. But I wasn’t. Even if she wasn’t my rival, I could never get involved.
And so I ignored her beauty and cocked a brow. “The idea of my death is funny, eh?”
“I’m just surprised that a muscly, cocky competitor would be afraid of a little old spider.”
“Muscly? Did you just give me a compliment?” I took a step closer, grinning. “That might just make up for your attempt to kill me.”
“Oh, trust me. That’s not a compliment.” She cocked her head, looking up at me. “And Daisy never would have killed you. He’s pretty tame. All you have to do is give him some folk food, and he goes on his merry way.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “That explains his eagerness to eat my chocolate.”
Her smile slipped. “Don’t tell me you wasted that cocoa on a spider.”
“I thought he was going to eat me. Giving up the chocolate seemed like the better option at the time.”
She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “See? You know nothing about these dwarven lands. And I bet you think you’ll win Fittest Under the Mountain despite it.”
“Think it? No.” My smile widened. “I know I’ll win.”
“I have truly never met anyone with a bigger ego than yours, and that’s saying something,” she said flatly.
“If I don’t believe in myself, why would anyone else?” I shrugged. “I learned a long time ago I have to back myself in everything I do. Which is why…” I leaned in and snatched a cake from her basket. “…I’m also going to find the Everstone.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” she snapped.
“Why do you want it so badly? As far as I can tell, no one else seems that bothered by it anymore. No one but you.”
“I could ask you the same question.”
I chuckled.
“If you’re not going to tell me, give me back my cake.” She reached out for the green morsel, but I held it over my horns and out of her reach. Glowering, she folded her arms.
“Tell me where you think the Everstone is, and I’ll gladly give you this weird glowing thing you call food.”
“It’s really quite tasty,” she countered.
“Somehow, I doubt that,” I replied, holding the thing before me. Up close, it did look like cake, but it was hard to ignore the very vibrant green of it. “It looks like grass.”
She sighed and turned away. “Right. Grass.”
I frowned as she opened the door and shuffled into her cave cottage. For a moment, I hesitated, dumbstruck by her sudden change in attitude. She was no longer the annoying miner who’d tried to send me into the pincers of an oversized spider and was back to the girl who’d sat on her stoop, nearly crying.
As if driven forward out of their own volition, my feet followed Astrid inside, and my horns scraped the low stone ceiling. Astrid plopped down at a tiny wooden table in the center of the room. Moss, vines, and flowers consumed the entire space, blooming from the walls and climbing through the cracks around the window frames. I stepped past it all—careful not to crush anything—and joined her at the table. She didn’t even look up when the chair creaked.
“Why in fate’s name does grass make you so sad? You seem to love greenery.” I gestured around her small yet comfortable home. “And if you don’t, I have some bad news for you. There are plantseverywherein your house. In fact, I think they’re taking over, and I doubt you’ll ever get rid of them all. Might be time to move.”
She sighed again and shoved an entire cake into her mouth. For a moment, silence descended as she chewed. Afew crumbs dropped to the table, and she brushed them aside absentmindedly, that faraway look in her eyes again.
When she finished eating the moss cake, she said, “I’m afraid I can’t tell you. But you should know it’s why I’m hunting the Everstone.”
“Ah. Right. Of course you won’t tell me a damn thing. That would make things far too easy.”
