Chapter 1

Booming voices echoed down the mining tunnel. I lowered my pickaxe and rolled my knotted shoulders, bouncing my head in time with the lilting beat of the ancient folk song. At the end of the tunnel, around the bend, and two ledges down, The Wet Beard heaved with the dwarven miners who had already hung up their carts and their pickaxes for the evening. They'd traded their thirst for gems for that of ale.

Not me. At least, not yet. I'd join them soon. Because, according to legend, these mines hid a powerful gem, whose mineral traces wound like lightning through stone. Us dwarves had been searching these tunnels for it for so long, I couldn't remember a time when we didn't talk about it every day and night.

In fact, the song echoing from the tavern was about the fabled gem.

And I needed to be the one who found it.

It had power beyond compare. Of course, exactly what that meant, no one quite knew. There were lots of popular theories. One of my favorites involved endless amounts of the most delectable chocolates from the mainland. That seemed like a great power to wield. Who needed immortality or impossible strength if you couldn't enjoy something as sweet as cocoa? ‘Course, as much as I'd never say no to chocolates, I needed the gem's power for something a little more important than that.

"Astrid?" a voice called from down the tunnel.

Hefting my pickaxe to my shoulder, I smiled at the girl who strode toward me. Her long silver hair hung down her back in a loose braid, and stars practically sparkled in her matching eyes. She wore a long gauzy blue gown and carried a foaming mug in her delicate hands. Fates, it was good to see her again.

"Lilia!" I beamed and hustled over her to her, careful not to trip on the cluster of gold-orange gems scattered around the mine's floor. These gems—sunstones—were still treasures, even if they weren't the grand prize. They glittered and shone, providing light and warmth in the dank, dark tunnels of The Deep. Without them, we couldn't grow our food.

Beaming right back, Lilia handed me the mug. Liquid gold sloshed over the edges. I took a long, long gulp, relishing the sweet taste. After hours spent mining, my parched tongue sighed in contentment. There was no other ale on the Isles quite like Lilia's. Not that I'd ever tasted anything other than hers and the brews found in the mountain here.

I'd been cursed as a babe. I could never poke a single toe outside these mountainous walls. The world beyond the mines would never be mine, no matter how much I wanted it to be.

"You're looking good, Astrid," Lilia said, bouncing on her toes. There was a new sparkle in her eyes that hadn't been there the last time I'd seen her. Squinting, I leaned in close. Blush dotted her cheeks.

"Hmm, are you going to tell me what has you beaming like a dwarf who discovered a new kind of mineral?"

She chuckled softly, and instead of answering, said, "How goes the mining? I looked for you in the tavern, but…" Her eyes darted around the skinny tunnel that vanished into darkness. "Still rarely taking breaks these days?"

I twisted my hands around the arm of the pickaxe. "What would you be doing if you were me? You can't even settle anywhere for longer than a fortnight. I've been stuck down here for twenty-six long years."

She sighed, nodding. "I'd be going stir crazy, too. Fates, I'd probably claw at the walls to escape. Any luck?"

I hefted my axe off my shoulder and angled the pointy end toward the nearest cluster of sunstones. "Well, we've got enough of these to light up an entire village. But as far as the Everstone is concerned…" Sighing, I dropped the axe heavily to the ground. It punched into the rock, the sound bouncing ominously down the tunnel.

"You'll find it," Lilia said, then pressed her lips together, like she didn't believe it any more than I did.

Shrugging, I started toward the mouth of the tunnel, letting the raucous sound of the tavern finally call me away from my work. "Maybe it doesn't exist, Lil. Could be nothing more than a fable. A lot of the dwarves have given up, you know. I've heard them whispering that it's pointless to keep looking for it. They think we should just focus on the sunstones. We've started trading them with some ships that come in from the mainland."

"Yeah, well." Lilia threw an arm around my shoulder, walking steadily beside me. "We don't listen to naysayers, now do we? Besides, I've recently learned there are lots of fables in this world that are real. Impossibilities, even."

I arched a brow in her direction. "Like what?"

"Well, the dragons, for one." She beamed.

"Are you talking about your brother's dragons? ‘Cause he's had those for years."

"Well, I have one of my own now." A strange smile curled her lips. "Two…in a way."

I tapped at my ears. "I'm sorry. I think my hearing might be going. I swear I thought I heard you say you have two dragons. How in fate's name have you managed that?"

"It's a long story," she said with a laugh. "One I can't wait to tell you around a barrel full of ale."

I couldn't help but chuckle right back, despite my disappointment at going another day without the Everstone. Truth be told, I hadn't expected to find it. As hard as I tried, there were far better miners down here than me. If someone eventually discovered it, it wouldn't be me.

I eyed Lilia. "You bring me any of that chocolate?"

She shot me a mock frown. "How dare you suggest I'd ever visit you without it. I'll give it to you when we sit down for a drink."

"Chocolate and ale," I said with a nod. "Can't think of anything better."

Except I could. Clear blue skies, a sun beaming down on my face, and an endless stretch of world I'd never witness. But I didn't even need to see it all. Just one glimpse of the sky, and I'd be satisfied.

And if I could do it with a bar of chocolate in my hand? Even better.

"So, who do you think will win the Fittest Under the Mountain this year?" Lilia asked when she returned to our rickety wooden table with two pints of Balder's finest ale frothing down her hands. In our cities and villages scattered throughout The Glass Peaks, Balder was famous for having the best. His brew was nothing compared to Lilia's, but I'd never tell him that. It would break his big old dwarven heart.

I gladly took Lilia's offered mug and bit back a groan. "I don't care about that damn competition."

"Really?" She scrunched up her nose. "It's one of my favorites of the year."

"Every competition and festival on the Isles is your favorite. You love Summer Solstice in Wyndale, Yule in Riverwold, and you even like the Harvest Festival over in Oakwater. Every time you talk about one of these things, it's the one you love the most."

"Perhaps. But I really do love the Fittest Under the Mountain. And you do, too. Or at least you did a few years ago. What's changed?"

I shrugged and scanned the tavern. The low ceiling curved overhead, its rocky surface worn smooth from decades of regular polish. Glowing orange gemstones were embedded in a scattered formation, much like the wooden tables surrounded by raucous dwarves. A few of the patrons wore metal pins shaped like a fist. Those were the ones who'd decided to compete in our yearly competition to see who could haul around the heaviest rock, run the fastest through the shadowy tunnels, steer the mine carts the best, and swing from rope to rope across the widest chasms.

All the usuals were in attendance. Galinn wore a cocky grin and lounged in his chair, holding court with the other hopefuls. His trimmed ginger beard barely reached his chest. He thought keeping it short helped him win, and maybe it did. Puldur and Knut sat with him, twins with long, bushy black beards and braided hair that matched. They were the two who'd come closest to beating him, but they were still no match for Galinn the Great.

That was their name for him. Not mine. I'd rather go the rest of my life without chocolate than give Galinn's ego any more fuel.

Sighing, I turned back to the beaming silver-haired elf. "It's just the same thing every year, Lil. Same contestants, same trials, same winner five times in a row. Like the rest of my life, it's dull."

"Well," Lilia said, leaning across the table with a new sparkle in her eyes, "I met some folk on the road here. They said they're coming to compete."

There were always a few strangers who journeyed here from beyond the mountain, of course. Elves or pixies who wanted in on the action, thinking they could best the dwarves who trained and lived down here in The Deep. A few had given the regulars a run for their money over the years, but not lately. Every damn year, Galinn won by such a large margin that it was starting to feel like the competition was no longer a competition at all and just a way for him to show off his skills.

I folded my arms. "If I thought they had any chance of winning, I might be more excited."

"One of them looked like he could win, if you get my meaning," she whispered.

I arched a brow over the rim of my tankard. "Let me guess. Tall, muscled like the God of Thunder himself, and full of unearned swagger. He won't win, Lil. We get some of those every year, but they're always too big and heavy. This is a dwarven competition."

She merely shook her head. "He's got muscle, all right, but he's not one of the towering, burly types. You'll see."

But as if her words had conjured him, a big, burly type ducked his head and swaggered into the tavern just like I'd expected. He was so tall, his head skimmed the rocky ceiling even with his shoulders fully slumped forward. Long flaming hair curled around elven ears, though there was something very not elven about him—though I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was. I sniffed the air. He smelled spicy.

If this was the contestant Lilia had meant, she'd lost her damn mind. He'd likely win the strength event but lose everything else. He wouldn't even fit inside some tunnels without getting stuck. And the mine cart? Forget it.

He scanned the crowd. When his eyes landed on Lilia, his entire body seemed to sigh. I sat a little straighter in my chair. Interesting.

"There you are," he said when he reached our table. The big, burly thing leaned down and dropped a kiss on Lilia's forehead with such familiarity that he must have done it a hundred times. At least.

I leaned forward onto my elbows. "Lilia…who in fate's damned name in this?"

A shy grin spread across her face. "This is Ragnar. My, ah…"

"Partner," he finished, sticking out his hand.

I eagerly took it, glancing between the two of them. They both had silly expressions on their faces, like two newlyweds. Two very happy newlyweds. I beamed at Lilia. It was about damn time. She was a wanderer at heart, always roaming the roads alone. I knew she loved to travel, but I'd caught a lonely look in her eye more often than she'd wanted to admit. And now she'd finally found someone who would wander those roads with her.

Good. Everyone needed someone who felt like home.

"Pleasure to meet you, Ragnar. I'm—"

"Astrid." He grinned. "Lilia hasn't stopped talking about you and your mining skills for days. She couldn't wait to introduce us."

"Ah." A flush spread across the back of my neck. "My skills are not amazing. Definitely no better than most of the dwarves down here in The Deep."

"Hush, love," Lilia said. "You're an excellent miner. And baker. Nilsa sends her love."

My heart swelled, even as a stab of pain went through it. I hadn't seen my cousin, Nilsa, in years, though I didn't much blame her. It was a long trek from Riverwold to the mountains. She had her own life and her own inn to look after. She journeyed here as often as she could.

If only I could travel to Riverwold.

"How is she? And Herold? They sent a letter a few months back, but—"

A hush descended upon the tavern. It was so sudden that my own words died in the back of my throat. Lilia and Ragnar both turned in unison, eyes sweeping toward the tavern's entrance. Three shadow demons with dusky, midnight blue skin stood just inside, their curving black horns scraping the ceiling. They wore black fighting leathers and had small daggers strapped to their thighs and hips. Two of them—a man and a woman—were the big and burly type, like Ragnar.

But the one in the front…he was tall, but not quite as looming as the others. And he moved with a preternatural grace that defied logic. Shadows swept across his neck, curling in intricate patterns. He was slightly shorter than the others, but something about him sucked up all the space.

"Can we get some of those pins?" he called out, his lyrical voice echoing through the silent tavern. "We've come to join the competition."