Chapter 17

Several hours later, Tormund and I perched on a rock overlooking a waterfall. Water rushed by us, swirling with froth, the sound filling the cave with a constant shhhhhh. I leaned back and pulled my knees to my chest, watching as he nibbled on a heel of bread, his eyes distant.

We had not come to an agreement on the deal. After we'd shared dragon stories, we'd started off down the tunnel without question or comment, like we both knew we had to find this gem, one way or another.

My emotions warred for dominance. For as long as I could remember, I'd longed for freedom and to feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I'd learned of my curse when I'd been only two or three years old. Finding out was one of my first memories. I remembered Jostein sitting me down and explaining to me what it meant. Then he gave me a moss cake and a pat on the back, promising he'd always be there for me.

"But I want to go outside," I'd told him.

Smiling in that fatherly way of his, he'd replied, "Perhaps one day you will, but for now, you have all of us down here."

A couple years later, I'd found the story of the Everstone in a book. That night, when I'd fallen asleep, I'd dreamt of getting my hands on the gem and sailing the salt sea with the beaming sun on my face.

Over the years, I'd grown more determined to find it. And to willingly walk away from it now felt like the unravelling of my soul. Everything I was and everything I'd planned to be—it all went back to the Everstone and my freedom. Who was I without it? What would I become?

I had nothing else, I realized. Nothing but my plants, which had taken over my home, and my mining job. Both of those were pretty great things, admittedly. I loved what I did, and tending to my plants and watching them thrive made me feel alive. And I had my friends, of course. This community in the dwarven mountains. I was never alone unless I wanted to be.

"You seem deep in thought," Tormund said, nudging my knee with the back of his hand. His knuckles skimmed my trousers, but something about the intimacy of his touch made it feel like we were skin-to-skin.

"So do you," I pointed out. "What's on your mind?"

"The dragons," he said wistfully. "I'd love to see the sky full of wings."

"Yes. So would I."

"You will," he said. "We'll find the stone, I'll fix Tahir, and then we'll find a cure for you." He leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. From this position, he didn't tower over me like he usually did. We were eye to eye, and it was unnerving. "Think about it. This would save the species. Rivelin's dragons—the ones you told me about—they are siblings. They'll never breed."

I nodded. "Lilia has mentioned that to me a time or two. She's beside herself, really, since she's so attached to one of them. She hates the idea he's one of the last of his kind."

"He doesn't have to be," Tormund said quietly, his words nearly drowned out by the rush of the waterfall.

Tormund was right. Fates be damned, I hadn't thought of it that way before now, but there was no mistaking the truth in his words. If Tahir could leave his mountain, he could come here and ensure a future for dragons.

"What if we took Rivelin's dragons to Azraak instead?" I asked, offering the only other option I could think of.

Tormund shook his head. "I worry they'd succumb to the same affliction."

"Bloomin' fates," I muttered.

A slight smile lifted the corners of his lips. "Does that mean you'll agree to my deal?"

I nibbled on my bottom lip, then cursed again. "Yes, fine. I agree to your deal. But I need you to understand I'm doing this for the dragons, not you. I want a sky full of wings, too. After everything Isveig did to them, I want to see them thrive."

Tormund held out a hand, his eyes burning into mine. Shadows swirled around each of his fingers. Swallowing, I slid my palm into his. A searing heat whipped across my fingers, followed by the coolling touch of his shadows. I couldn't help but stare at them. They swirled around me, twisting up my arms and tracing circles against my skin, sensual and electric. And something about the way Tormund's hand held mine made it feel like a promise of things to come. Or an invitation.

I didn't know whether I wanted to lean in or pull away from him. And I didn't know what he would do in response to either one. And I certainly didn't know what I wanted him to do. What if I did give in to the sudden urge to lean closer? Would he wind his shadows further up my arm? Would he even go so far as to kiss me?

But what if I leapt to my feet and took off down the tunnel, resuming our search for the Everstone? Would he take that as a rejection to his invitation and never try again? Would I even want him to try again?

All these questions rattled around inside my brain like gemstones in a mine cart. I had two options, and I had no bloomin' idea which one I wanted, and I didn't want to choose for fear of chasing down the wrong thing.

So I did neither one.

I just sat there, staring into the depths of his midnight eyes, waiting for him to make the move.

Tension pounded between us. His shadows tightened around my arm. I pulled a breath into my lungs and held it there, my eyes darting down to his lips. And then, so slowly it was almost like it wasn't happening, he let his shadows fall from my skin.

Exhaling, he stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "I vow to find you a cure, Astrid. And I hope you know I'd sooner die than break a promise. You will step your feet on grassy land one day."

Disappointment flooded through me, rushing as fast as the waterfall. I was so focused on his choice to pull away, I almost failed to register his promise. Oddly, it seemed to matter less in the moment. The gulf of cold air between us loomed so large.

"Thank you," I said crisply, then stood and brushed the dirt from my trousers.

Honestly, I'd been a fool to expect anything else, and I was even more of a fool to be disappointed by the lack of it. Other than his heated stares and his dancing shadows—which meant nothing from a shadow demon—he'd shown no interest in anything more than friendship. All right, sure, he'd flirted a little, too. But again, that meant nothing. He clearly had no interest in me.

And I had no interest in him, I reminded myself. Whatever I was feeling was only a result of his allure. Down here in the darkness of the mines, shadows were thick. It called at his allure, brought it to the surface. All of this was just magic and nothing more.

Besides, Tormund was only here for a short time. Soon, he would leave The Glass Peaks to return to Azraak. And as much as I yearned to breathe fresh air, walk barefoot through the grass, and bask in the morning sun's rays, I would never walk away from my home forever. I couldn't leave all this behind, and he might expect me to if we went further. Besides, there was no telling how long it would take to find my cure. I could be stuck here for years longer. Tormund would never want to be trapped in the dwarven mines.

I rolled my eyes at myself. What in fate's name was I even thinking? The demon hadn't even kissed me, let alone asked for a relationship. His allure really was a tricky bastard, wasn't it?

"Astrid?" Tormund asked with a frown.

"Yes, sorry." I'd been standing there far too long without speaking a word.

"You disappeared on me…everything all right?"

"I'm just thinking I hope we find this bloomin' dragon," I said. "We should get going."

He considered me for a moment, and I couldn't help but worry I'd never heard the full extent of shadow demon powers. What if they could read minds? Or infer thoughts based on facial expressions? Gods, he would know I'd been daydreaming about his bedroom eyes and contemplating how a relationship could work between us.

But then he stepped to the side and motioned me forward. "After you, Astrid."

My heart pounded. He really needed to stop saying my name like that.

We took off down the mine tunnels, following the fading light of the sunstones. The deeper we ventured, the darker it got. Tormund and I would not be discouraged, however. Our path continued ever forward, and we passed the time with lively conversation. He asked me about my life growing up, and I told him all about Jostein and how he'd raised me as his own, training me young to work the mines. And then I asked about his childhood. The opposite of me, he had half a dozen siblings. They were all quite a bit older, and they'd left home a long time ago.

"I suppose they feel more like aunts and uncles than siblings," he told me. "And they're all scattered around the world now. I hardly ever see them."

"I'm sorry. That must be hard."

He shrugged, though I couldn't help but spot a flicker of pain in his eyes. "I've got Tahir. He's like a brother to me."

"Funny thing to say about a dragon," I replied with a smile.

"Once you meet him, you'll understand," said Tormund.

"Have you bonded with him?" I asked carefully. "I thought only orcs could do that."

Safely, anyway. Folk bonding with dragons had started the bloody war with Isveig—at least, that had been Isveig's excuse for destroying the dragons and conquering the orcs. Dragon magic was a volatile thing. Folk weren't meant to bond with that magic and channel it as their own. Only orcs could do it without losing control. More than one village had gone up in flames because the wrong person had tried to bond with a dragon.

Eventually, folk stopped doing it. I thought we'd all learned our lesson. Bonding with dragons caused nothing but trouble.

I sent up a prayer to the gods that we weren't back there again.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Tormund said. "Tahir and I are brothers without needing a bond. I just can't go too near him. Otherwise, I risk getting burned. Just like anyone else who isn't an orc."

The heat that dragons emitted was far too powerful for most folk to withstand. We'd need to keep that in mind if we did find the creature we sought. If he was anywhere near the Everstone he'd stolen, we'd have to find some way to lure him away from it.

We came to the end of the path and ducked into another tunnel. The walls were low and narrow, and the sunstones were so few and far between now that I had to squint to see more than a few feet in front of me. The scent of petrichor grew stronger, and the stones beneath our feet were slick, puddles forming from water trickling in through the walls.

"Why do you suppose he stole the gem, anyway?" I asked.

"Dragons treasure those who shine. And so do I." Tormund's voice was rough, and it dragged my attention away from my footsteps and to his face. He stared at me in the dim lighting, his eyes dark yet full of fire. Every part of me went hot with longing.

No one had ever looked at me this way.

"Tormund," I whispered.

He reached a hand toward my face, our footsteps in sync. My heart nearly pounded out of my chest. Whatever I'd felt before, I suddenly knew it hadn't been one-sided. There was something between us, against all odds. And even if it might end in nothing but pain, I was desperate to give into it.

Tormund's thumb caressed my cheek. A sigh escaped my parted lips, and I started to lean into his touch.

But then the floor opened up beneath us, and we fell.