"Wait," she sobbed, croaking out the word because she didn't know how to get him to listen to her. "No, no you can't do this to me. Rhydian, you're my only friend."
"You cannot be friends with the dead, Rose. I think we both need a little time apart. And you need to focus on the gift you have been given. Life is not to be wasted, my dear. Take it from someone who's been dead a long time, you don't want to miss a drop of life."
“When will I see you again?” she begged.
“When I have proof that you’re really living.”
He faded away entirely, and suddenly she was shoved back into her body. Back into a roaring crowd of people she hadn't learned how to love or had even taken the time to know.
Her gaze locked onto Gunnar. Sweet, honest, steadfast Gunnar, who had remained with her no matter how hard that must have been for him. And somehow, a whisper in her mind told her that she couldn't let him go. Not yet. Not when she now had no one else.
Thirteen
Gunnar
"You think you'll earn a troll wife looking like that?" Gunnar nudged the troll next to him, snickering at the choice of jewelry that decorated the other male's chest.
They had all been joking with each other for hours now. He'd been waiting with them in the glen, watching the others primp and prepare themselves. This one in particular—he thought his name was Sven—had spent a lot of time asking all the other trolls if he was appropriately eye catching. Gunnar had told him then that he would only receive attention because the light reflecting on all those gems was blinding.
Apparently, that had made him think it was a great idea to put on more jewels.
Sven elbowed him before looking him up and down. "You are so plain, they won't even notice you standing next to me."
"I think most troll wives are rather discerning. They will be confused why you are trying so hard and then turn their attention to others." Gunnar leaned closer to him andwhispered, "A peacock is pretty to look at, but a rooster gets more work done."
Then he wandered out through the crowd, already pleased with himself.
They'd put on a good show for all those who were watching. The stands were pretty packed with people, but he wasn't interested in who was there. Gunnar was only standing with the others because his king had bid him to. Gunnar had no interest in finding a pretty wife to sit at home and wait for him when he was off on adventures.
Not that he'd been on a lot of adventures lately. No one was leaving Trollveggen with so many humans teeming over the surface. King Egil had sent out hunting parties, of course. Gunnar had been in every single one of those, but that wasn't all that helpful in the long run. Humans multiplied so quickly.
A troll woman grabbed his arm, her body painted with streaks of bright yellow that stood out in lovely contrast against her bright blue skin. She apparently was as interested in the proceedings as he was because she immediately asked, "You were there when King James was killed, were you not?"
"I didn't watch him die. I saw his body, though." Gunnar shrugged. "Dead as he could be. I don't think the man had any magic that would stop a twisted neck from killing him."
She seemed unnerved by what he said. An odd reaction considering how much trolls hated the humans.
She glanced around them, as though she didn't want anyone to hear what she had to say. "It's just... I've been seeing things out there. On the hunts. Things that make it seem like someone else is running the show again. The soldiers are fighting like they have orders, not like they're running around scared."
That was odd.
Gunnar narrowed his gaze on her, focusing entirely on this woman next to him and not the spectacle they were all about totake part in. "What do you mean? What we've seen so far are the last stragglers and those who are angry their king is dead. We haven't seen any organization."
"I have seen that." She took another step closer to him, her voice hushed. "I've seen organization and, more than that, I've seen orders. Documents that soldiers had on their person. But before I could grab them, they destroyed them. One of the men burned himself alive so I couldn't get it."
That couldn't be right. He would have heard of that. Ragnar would have heard of it. By all the gods of the mountain, Bjorn would have heard of it.
"Listen, we've all been fighting for a very long time. We know that there are plenty of reasons for humans to be doing strange things, but that doesn't mean that there's anything wrong. Or even that there's yet another person coming out of the grave to tell them what to do." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Tell the king if you are concerned."
"I did," she hissed. "The king told me that I should focus on the bridal games and nothing else. I don't know what to do, Gunnar. I can feel the change in energy out there."
She thudded her hand to her chest, hard. He had learned a long time ago that it was foolish to ignore the intuition of a woman. This warrior had paused in what was potentially the most important gathering of her life to tell him this, and he shouldn't brush her off.
"I will speak with Bjorn and Ragnar," he said. "I will make sure they hear your words. Yes?"
"Thank you."
"But do not expect any changes. I don't know what this will bring about, or if they will believe you any more than I do."
