“You’re not going to talk me out of it, but if you want to help, feel free to jump in,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument. He was going to do this, even if every wound on his chest still looked angry and raw—which they did. And if I didn’t help him, he’d have double the work. Last night, I’d agreed to carry on as his assistant while I tried to tame the dragon, and I’d meant it. If he didn’t want to kick me out after what he’d learned about me, then I was happy to stay and leave a good mark on this island. And that meant helping him do whatever woodworking tasks needed doing.
I sighed. “All right. Where should I start?”
Rune motioned at the pile of split logs. “Get those inside the shop. We can’t risk the wood getting wet if the storm decides to swing back around another time.”
And so I nodded, squared my shoulders, and got to work.
The hardest, most physically exhausting work of my life consumed the next few days. Every morning just before dawn, Rune slammed his fist against my door with enough force that I was sure the wood would spring free of its hinges sooner rather than later. I threw on my clothes and padded out into the main room rubbing sleep from my eyes, only to find Rune was already outside hammering or sawing or muttering curses beneath his breath.
My glaring lack of skills initiated more than one debate about how I could possibly have the steady aim of an expert archer but manage to fumble a bag of nails. After one such argument, I spent at least an hour on my hands and knees, picking through the grass to find every nail I’d dropped. Other times, he praised my dogged insistence to toil away for the same long hours that he did. In fact, I remained on my feet for so long that my eyes slammed shut within seconds of my head hitting the pillow every night.
Several days after Rune had rescued me from the redwood tree, I sat cross-legged on the dwarven farm, erecting a section of their new fence while Rune was back at the cottage prepping timber beams for Helga’s replacement home. The children were out playing in the garden while Arvid and his partner were tending to their horses. It was a peaceful late-spring afternoon. Birds perched in the drooping branches overhead, filling the air with their high-pitched orchestra. The Elding had not shown its face since that fateful night. Clear skies and peaceful breezes had chased it away, and the sun’s warmth caressed the back of my neck.
I hummed to myself, proud of how much progress I’d made in such a short time. About a quarter of the fence was already completed, though I’d nearly run out of wood. Still, at this rate, I’d finish well within the two-week time period we’d promised the dwarves.
Arvid wandered over with a steaming mug in his hand. “Thought you might like a cup of tea while you work, but I didn’t account for how hot it is out here. Summer is well and truly on its way.”
I set the beam of wood down, smiling. “I don’t mind how warm it is. A mug of tea sounds lovely right now. Thank you, Arvid.”
He eagerly handed it over, the bells in his beard chiming. “I hope you like it. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Shifting on his feet, he cleared his throat. “And I, ah…well, I’d be happy to keep your mug filled with as much as you can drink.”
A knowing smile spread across my face. “What is it, Arvid? Would you like me to change something about the fence?”
“Oh no!” His eyes went wide. “I love the fence. It’s perfect. It’s just…while you were here yesterday, I went to see how Rune was getting on with Helga’s house, and he mentioned you’re an excellent archer. One of the best, in fact, he said.”
For an odd reason I couldn’t quite identify, my heart lurched. “Rune actually said that to you?”
“Oh yes. He said he had every faith you’ll do well in woodworking because you know how to dedicate yourself to learning a skill.”
“Well, that’s…” Surprisingly complimentary. Rune had been his grumpy self these past few days. He’d been so involved with his work that he had little time and energy at the end of the day to do more than exchange a few pleasantries before heading off to bed. My own bone-aching weariness welcomed the earlynights, especially since it meant I’d already torn through two of the romance novels he ‘accidentally’ owned.
At times, I’d wondered if he might regret offering me the position. The two of us barely talked, even over dinner.
“Anyway.” Arvid rocked back on his heels, nervously twisting his hands. “One of my girls keeps pestering me about archery, but the thing is, it’s not really something taught down in the Deep, where I grew up. Now I know you’re busy right now, but once you have some free time, I was hoping you might be willing to consider showing her some tricks. In exchange for some tea, of course. I mean, if you might possibly have any inkling of a willingness to maybe—”
“Of course I’ll teach your daughter, Arvid,” I cut in softly, partly to put him out of his rambling misery and partly because my chest seemed to expand at the thought of teaching someone else to use a bow and arrow, the same way my mother had taught me. An ache went through me, remembering her smile.
“What? You wouldn’t mind?” He stood up a little straighter.
“I would love to. In fact, I’d be honored.”
He clapped his hands, his eyes brightening with enough light that they could rival the sun. “Oh, thank you, Frida. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can’t wait to tell her. She’ll be so excited!”
“Well, go on then.” I grinned. “As long as you don’t mind me using a daily hour of fence building time, you can even tell her we’ll start tomorrow.”
“Absolutely!” he exclaimed. And then he was off, bustling toward his cottage with his bells jingling wildly.
“That was kind of you,” came a rumbling voice from behind me.
Stomach twisting, I turned toward said voice to find Rune walking up and down the length of my fence, poking at everybeam, like the whole thing might collapse against the slightest bit of pressure.
“It’s not kindness. He’s paying me in tea.”
His lips quirked up in the corners. “Yes, you’re very greedy with your demands for tea and cheese.”
“And books,” I added.
He arched a brow. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re already done with two. I’ve only got one more. After that, you’ll have to try another genre.”
