CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The look of hollow emptiness on Sturrm’s face guts me. Carajo! I just know he’s blaming himself for something completely out of his control.

And you know what? Enough of that mierda. If he can’t break free of the negative thought patterns he’s built up about himself from his past, then I’ll drag him out of them.

“Give us a moment,” I say to the others. Then I march into the tunnel after Sturrm, glow stone in hand.

As soon as I round the first bend, I find him standing with his back to me, his shoulders high and tense.

“Sturrm.” I reach for his shoulder, and as soon as we touch, a thread of my magic leaps into him and speeds back to me, carrying a flare of yellow all around his right hand, indicating a serious injury. I tug on his arm. “What did you do?”

He doesn’t move, no matter how hard I pull.

So I wiggle between him and the wall, my breasts sliding across his stomach.

That makes him move. He flinches back away from me, and I grab his right forearm, holding the glow stone close. His knuckles are scraped raw and bleeding, but what’s worse is I can feel the broken bones inside his hand.

Anger heats my blood. I hate that he hurt himself. It’s obvious what happened, but I ask again, anyway, wanting to get him talking. “What did you do?”

“I punched the wall.”

“And the rock punched back. Did it help with what’s bothering you?”

He shakes his head, and his voice sounds empty. “It solved nothing. I’ve failed in my quest.”

“Mierda, no!” I send a pulse of healing magic into him, and the scrapes heal in front of my eyes like a time-lapsed movie run on fast forward. The next pulse starts to work on knitting the bones. The bright yellow aura of the injury fades to orange, then red, then disappears altogether as the bones knit whole. “The sluagh were here weeks ago, which is before you were sent on this quest. You didn’t fail. You were given an impossible task.”

“What?” The numb look drops from his eyes. “How can you know when the sluagh were here? ”

“The gnomes I healed. They’d been in the deathsleep coma for a while. When we get back to the others, I’ll confirm.” I send another, stronger push of magic, the power tingling through my body and into his. “None of this is on you, you hear me? And the only way you’re going to fail is if you give up.”

He grunts. It’s not his yes grunt, but it’s also not a no.

“Don’t give up, Sturrm.” Don’t give up on us, a voice in my head adds. I don’t say it out loud—now’s clearly not the time—but I hope he can read it in my eyes.

This time when I tug on him, he moves, following me back into the moss-lit cavern where everyone waits. Or rather, Dash and Bella wait. The gnomes frolic like a knot of excited puppies, laughing and rolling in a big ball of movement.

“I want to check something,” I say. “How long ago were the soul stealers here?”

The gnome who tried to trick me with the ruby separates from the rest. “Three weeks past.”

I turn to Sturrm and raise an eyebrow, getting one of his yes grunts.

The gnome bows to me, his little moss cap somehow remaining on his head. “Milady, you have done us a great service by returning our kin to us, hale and whole. It grieves me to not offer you trade in kind.” He taps the parchment. “There are no crystals left in the cavern marked on your dragon map. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any crystals left in the mountains.”

“What? Really?” Hope blooms in my chest.

“We can take you to them. It will be an honor. ”

“And lead us back out again,” Sturrm growls.

“Good catch, orc,” Dash says.

The gnome bares his teeth at Sturrm in something… not really a smile.

A frisson runs through me. The gnomes look so cute, but they’re still fae, and along with Sturrm’s warning, I also remember many of Abuela Abigail’s stories were full of fae trickery.

The gnome gives a sharp nod. “We will lead you back to the closest dragon cave,”

“That will do,” Bella says. “I can get us out from there.”

I grin at all of them. “Let’s do this!” I’m ready to do anything to pull Sturrm out of his funk and get him to look to the future instead of the past.

A future I damned well plan to be in.

Since we’re already stopped, Sturrm and I eat a quick lunch of travel biscuits. I feel bad that Bella and Dash don’t have anything, but she hunted for a big breakfast, and Dash says his smaller form can get by on what he grazed that morning.

In only a few minutes, we’re ready to head out again. Only this time is nothing like before.

The gnomes offer to carry us to the crystals, and I almost say yes, but Sturrm’s huge hand grips my shoulder as he frowns down at me. “Their magic allows them to travel through dirt and rock without harm, and they can carry things with them, but none of us have gnome magic. None of us can breathe when encased in solid rock.”

“What?” I spin to gape at the gnome. “You were going to let us suffocate after I helped you?”

“Not enough to kill you.” The little man scowls, but he needs more practice. He’s got nothing on Sturrm. “You might pass out, but even with the time it took you to wake, we’d still get you to the crystals faster.”

“My healing magic might protect me from it,” I say slowly as my mind turns over all the options. “Then I could heal all of you.”

“Dragons can hold their breath for a very long time.” Bella bobs her head. “It’s only one of the ways we’re better than inferior beings.”

“Call me inferior again…” Dash kicks backward, his hoof striking the wall with a deep thump that speaks of the incredible power in his stocky pony body.

Bella lifts her wings, a curl of smoke escaping her opening mouth.

“No,” Sturrm snaps, cutting across their bickering. “There will be no guesses or ‘mights.’ I will not risk you unnecessarily. We will walk.”

“Okay, you’re right,” I say.

It turns out the gnomes don’t do anything as simple as walk . They tumble and flip like a group of Olympic hopefuls being put through one of those way too rigorous gymnastics classes where the coaches shout a lot. Only the gnomes are having a lot more fun than any of the little girls I used to walk past on my way to swimming lessons .

The glowing moss caps remain stuck to their heads, so the tunnel in front of us becomes a swirling mix of bright slashes of pink, lavender, and light green. I wish I had my phone and could do one of those long-exposure photos that look like light painted on the air. The gnomes would make amazing designs. With all of them tumbling in front of us, we barely need the glow stones.

Sturrm still holds his though, walking with it clasped in the same hand that carries the map. He keeps trying to figure out where we are, in that protective way he has.

I gave up hope of knowing where I am long before we met the gnomes. Orientation is so not my thing. We’ll simply have to trust them to do what they said they will. And if they don’t, Sturrm will find a way. Even if he doesn’t trust in himself, I trust him. He’ll never let anything bad happen to me.

I just need to make him see himself as I see him, competent and experienced and strong.

The gnomes lead us away from the types of tunnels we’ve been traveling in, and the smooth walls of lava tubes give way to twisty narrow passages and caves full of stalactites and stalagmites.

We stop for the night in another moss-lit cavern, only this one is full of pointed rock cones rising from the ground and hanging from the ceiling like we’ve stepped inside the toothy mouth of some great beast.

A stream runs across the side of the space, and Sturrm crouches to refill the waterskins .

“Don’t you have to worry if there might be a harmful microorganism in the water?” I ask. It’s something that’s been bugging me.

“Orcs are too mighty for little… organisms.” He snorts. “Besides, the leather’s been spelled to keep the water fresh and sweet.”

“Is that something your magic can do?”

“Mine is better at shaping than preservation spells, but other leather workers have the knack.”

I finger the buttery leather of my jacket. “Well, I’m glad for what your magic can do. I love my jacket. And the fact that you were able to make yourself pants after I…” I wave a hand at his legs. As much as I love seeing him naked, riding and fighting that way can’t be comfortable—way too much stuff bouncing around, what with as well hung as he is. Carajo, can’t let that dick get hurt. I have plans for it. Big plans.

He grunts.

When he stands, he designates one of the unused side tunnels as the bathroom, hands me the cleaning cloth, and stands facing the cavern, his big body blocking anyone’s view.

It’s so thoughtful and sweet and another example of how he anticipates what will make me more comfortable. Does he have any idea how special that is? How rare?

As soon as I’ve done my business, I return to the main cavern. Besides being beautiful, all the stalagmites have an added bonus. They cover so much of the room we’re left with only one clear spot to make a bed.

I sprawl across the furs, my fingers digging into their lush softness. A girl could get used to this. When Sturrm doesn’t join me, I twist to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“I need to stand guard.” He sits leaning against one of the sloping columns in a way that looks seriously uncomfortable.

“Mierda, don’t be ridiculous.” I wave my hand at the chaos that surrounds us. Bella sits in one of the other clear areas, and Dash lies across the room. In between all of us swirl a moving tumble of gnomes. They’re still celebrating, drinking something that smells of alcohol from tiny toadstool cups. “This cavern is full of fae. Do you really think anything can sneak up on us with all of them around? Besides, if you rest, you’ll be better prepared to fight any enemies we run into tomorrow.”

As I expected, that argument works. Sturrm’s protective nature kicks in, and he takes off his sword to lie down beside me.

And if, over the course of that first hour, I curl into his side and throw an arm over him to hold him close all night? Well, that’s simply me moving in my sleep. Obviously. Nothing more. Promise.