Chapter 13

"Welcome to the second trial of this year's Fittest Under the Mountain!" Jostein's booming voice echoed through the wide chasm yawning before us, the darkness below an impenetrable black that felt like an endless nothingness.

I swallowed and stared down. It was one thing to traverse our dwarven-built bridges, lined as they were with stone railings embedded with sunstones. And it was quite another to tiptoe across the rickety wooden planks bouncing around in the breeze. I didn't even want to think about the metal rungs looping from one side to the next, but every other contestant had lined up behind the start position for those.

I was the only one who'd chosen the bridge.

Still, sweat coated my palms, like I'd gone for the alternative.

Spectators crowded onto every ledge lining the chasm, cheering and waving their multi-colored banners. Even here, the roar was deafening. Lilia caught my eye from the ledge just across, but she was deep in conversation with Ragnar and another elf—a silver-haired man with an uncanny resemblance to her—and an orcish woman. I squinted. She was powerfully built and graceful in the way she moved. That must be Lilia's brother, Rivelin, and his partner, Daella. But Lilia had told me he didn't much like leaving his little village over on Hearthaven. And by the furrow of his brow, he didn't seem thrilled to be here, either.

The cheers suddenly hushed, and a murmur went through the crowd.

Jostein's hands had fallen to his sides, and an eerie white sheen stained his face. The two visitors from Rockheim stood beside him, feverishly whispering into his ear. With every moment that passed, the whites of his knuckles grew whiter.

"What do you think that's about?" a voice said—right into my ear. I leapt and released a rather undignified yelp, then whirled to glare at Tormund. He'd sneaked up on me again.

"You really need to make more noise when you move. One of these times, you're going to make my heart fall out of my chest."

For once, laughter didn't dance in his eyes. He was too focused on Jostein's pale face, which was, undeniably, concerning. "Those two have come bearing very bad news."

"Well spotted," I told him.

He finally turned to face me. "Why are you so grumpy this morning?"

"As if you don't know," I replied crisply.

"Is this about me being quiet earlier?"

I'd arrived to the competition platform half an hour early. Tormund had been the only other contestant to do the same. After last night's dinner, I'd expected a hearty hello. Or at least a friendly one. We'd share a meal, some laughs, and then a goodbye that had felt like the beginning of a friendship of sorts. But when I'd told him hello, he'd given me a curt nod and then had proceeded to ignore me until everyone else had arrived.

"It was very rude," I pointed out. "You didn't even say hello."

"Now that's not true. I said hello."

"You absolutely did not," I argued.

He folded his arms. "I gave you a nod."

"A nod is not hello. It's less than hello. It's a very rude way of dismissing someone. What happened to everything you said last night?"

Knut stuck his head between us, his black bushy beard wobbling, his brows arched high. "What happened last night?"

"Nothing!" Tormund and I nearly shouted in unison.

Tormund caught my eye. I rolled mine at him. Then we both cracked grins simultaneously.

"All right, all right." Knut held up his hands. "You keep on doing whatever it is you're doing, if you want, but Jostein looks really unhappy. And I think it has something to do with the Everstone."

My head snapped Jostein's way. The old dwarven man was wringing his hands, his eyes darting across the competitors. When they landed on my face, his lips twisted down, and he sighed. My heart thumped. There would only be one reason for an expression like that.

He hurried on over to the nine of us. "I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news. The Everstone is, ah, missing."

I pressed my lips together.

Altan, one of Tormund's friends, barked, "Missing?"

"I am afraid so."

"But how?" Knut asked.

Jostein winced. "We locked it inside a crate in the back room of The Wet Beard. When we went to check on things this morning, someone had smashed open the crate."

"A wooden crate?" Tormund asked, his voice lethally calm.

Jostein nodded.

"Not the most secure of compartments, is it? Especially not when most of the people here own multiple pickaxes."

Jostein's eyes went ice cold. "I didn't anticipate anyone would wish to steal something from us. The only times we've experienced theft have been when visitors come for the trials."

Tormund folded his arms and lifted his chin. "I don't like what you're implying."

"I heard you're keen to get your hands on the Everstone," said Jostein. "You came here especially for it."

"That's right," Tormund replied. "And if I'd stolen it, I'd be long gone by now."

Jostein took a step closer to Tormund, puffing out his chest, which only resulted in making his beard bounce around some more.

"Stop it, you two," I said, stepping between them. To Jostein, I said, "This must be some kind of mistake. You said this happened at The Wet Beard? I'll go take a look and sort this out, all right?"

Jostein frowned. "You must stay and compete in the trial."

"The Everstone is the prize," I countered. "We can't continue with the games until we find it."

A pause. "All right. I can see your point. But what in fate's name am I going to tell them?" He lifted his gaze to scan the silent crowd. They were all waiting for some kind of signal that everything was fine and that the games would continue on without delay. Most looked forward to these events all year. He would have some disappointing news to deliver.

"I don't think you should mention the missing Everstone yet," I said. "If hundreds find out, hundreds will start searching for it. And if everyone clogs The Wet Beard, it'll just be chaos."

"Then what do we tell them?" he asked.

"I have an idea. Say Astrid twisted her foot. The trials will resume once her ankle's all wrapped up." Tormund shot me a wolfish smile. Alarm rattled through me. Before I could brace myself, he swept me up in his arms and carted me away.

"Put me down!" I swatted Tormund's arm.

He hummed to himself, practically prancing down the tunnel toward The Wet Beard. He hadn't said a word since we'd left the crowded ledges behind, and I was starting to get a little annoyed. All right, a lot annoyed.

"You can put me down now," I said through my clenched teeth. "No one can see us anymore, and I am perfectly capable of—eep!"

Tormund tossed me over his shoulder, my boots now up in the air, my head bouncing against his back. "What was that, Astrid? I couldn't hear you over the sound of my own laughter."

"Amazing. I'm glad you're getting so much amusement out of this." I poked him in the back. Gods, there were muscles there, too! "If you don't put me down, I'm going to tell everyone you're the gem thief."

He slowed, sighed, and lowered me. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I brushed off my tunic and danced several steps away from him. "You didn't steal it, though, right?"

"No, I didn't steal it," said Tormund. "Did you?"

"I haven't been to The Wet Beard in days."

"Is that a no? Because you're the first person I'd suspect."

"Yes, of course it's a no. And you're the first person I'd suspect. You're telling me you wouldn't steal it if you knew where it was?"

A beat passed before he answered. "I'd be tempted. But I didn't know it was there, so I didn't do it. Someone else did. If that's even the stone. I'm still not convinced it is."

"Well, regardless," I told him, "something is missing from The Wet Beard, and I promised Jostein I'd look into it. If I go back to the chasm now, he'll probably start the trial, even without the prize. The dwarves won't like that he's stalling. Truth be told, I'm surprised he let us walk away. He usually has a ‘the trials must go on no matter what' kind of attitude."

Tormund fell into step beside me as I continued down the tunnel. "You were pretty eager to get away from there."

"If it wasn't obvious, I don't want to compete. I was the only one who chose the bridge."

"You could have chosen the metal rungs."

"Too dangerous," I said. "I'm not strong enough."

"Astrid Balstad." Tormund grabbed my arm and tugged me to a stop. When I allowed my feet to slow, he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "What's it going to take for you to believe in yourself?"

The intensity of his stare made me swallow. "I'm just being practical."

He stepped closer, invading my space, and tucked a crooked finger beneath my chin. "Say something like that one more time, and I'll carry you the rest of the way to the tavern."

"You're such a bastard," I said with a laugh.

"Yes." He smiled. "And that's why you like me."

"I don't like you," I protested. But he'd already moved away and was halfway down the tunnel now. With a frustrated sigh, I jogged to catch up to him. As if he'd not just threatened to toss me back on his shoulder, he sauntered around the bend and strode right up to the arched doorway leading into The Wet Beard.

All was silent and empty inside.

It was eerie, seeing it like this. Everyone was at the competition, leaving the place full of shadows and cobwebs. It felt unusually dark and dreary without the raucous laughter, the stomping of feet, and the pluck of strings on a bard's lute.

Tormund frowned and pointed at the dim sunstones. "Aren't they usually brighter than this?"

"When they're freshly embedded, yes," I answered. "But that's why we have to keep mining sunstones. Their magic doesn't last forever. We have to replace them every year or so."

"Right." Tormund moved down the length of the tavern. I cast a furtive glance at the bar, where no one stood ready and waiting to pour another ale. Balder would be spectating along with everyone else, though he'd likely hurry back now that Jostein had called off the trial. He'd want to be ready when the crowd descended on the place—and they would.

"A bit odd, eh?" Tormund called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I've never been in here when it's empty like this," I said, following him to the door that led to the back office, where the Everstone had been stored.

"No, I mean all the sunstones. They're dimming at the same time."

I looked around and could have sworn it was darker in the tavern than it had been a moment ago. "Hmm. Well, if all these sunstones were embedded on the same day, it isn't particularly odd. They'll run out of magic around the same time."

"You're a miner," he countered. "Were they embedded on the same day?"

"I don't know. I usually do the bridges." I frowned. "Why are you hung up on this? The sunstones run out. It's nothing unusual."

"Everything related to this stolen gem is unusual."

"Including you?" I asked.

A smile curled his lips as his palm hit the back door. "Excellent observation."

Tormund shoved open the door, and we both inched into a small room with a sloped stone ceiling, also embedded with dying sunstones. The dim lighting revealed a small desk, a rack stacked with tankards and wine goblets, and a smashed crate large enough to house the Everstone. Tormund knelt beside the crate and cocked his head, like the very sight of it might give him enough insight into what exactly happened here.

But there wasn't much to see. It was just an ordinary wooden crate, smashed to bits. But something wriggled in the back of my mind—a thought, something almost too opaque for me to grasp. I had the sudden urge to take a few steps back and look at the door again.

Leaving Tormund beside the crate, I edged into the main part of the tavern. Black char curled around the doorframe. Some of the wooden pieces were even blackened and bent. Like someone had taken flames to it.

Interesting, since Balder didn't even have a hearth here.

Tormund suddenly tensed and snatched something from the floor, then he slowly looked up and met my gaze through the open door.

"What is that?" I asked in a whisper.

He held it up. A black talon gleamed in the dimming glow of the tavern. It was as large as Tormund's hand. "This belongs to some kind of creature. One of your spider friends, perhaps?"

"No, I don't think so." I swallowed, glancing back at the char. "If I were to guess, that's from a dragon."