Chapter 24

"Morning, Yulla. How much beet sugar do you have?" I stood on the front stoop of my friend's cottage. All the windows were dark. She rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes, seemingly oblivious to the fact she was leaning against her doorframe in nothing but a slip. Behind her, toddlers screamed and chased each other through the house.

"I have no idea, Astrid. Why are you asking me about beet sugar?" she asked tiredly.

"I need to make a very large batch of moss cakes," I told her.

She squinted at me. "How? All the sunstones are dead."

"I'll explain later." I leaned sideways and peered into her house. "So, about that sugar. You got any? I'll find a way to pay you back."

"Sure, sure." She motioned me inside. "But don't you worry about replacing it. Not like we'll ever get to use it again, right? Without the sunstones, we'll never bake again."

"Hmm. We'll see about that." I ignored the question in her eyes and darted through the rush of charging children. The kitchen was a mess. Pots and pans were scattered on the floor, and breadcrumbs dotted the dining table. Empty tankards were piled beside a carton of eggs that looked like they'd been smashed against the wall. Yolk oozed down the stone.

"Um, Yulla," I asked carefully. "What happened here?"

"Oh, that." She waved at the mess. "The children were panicking about the dark, so I tried to make them laugh. It turned out smashing eggs on the wall did the trick." Sighing, she plopped onto one of the kitchen chairs. "Honestly, I will do anything at this point for a moment of calm with them. I will dance on my head wearing fish on my feet if I must."

"That's…quite the mental image."

"A funny one, right?" She loosed a tired laugh. "It'd probably work to entertain them. You got any fish?"

I grinned. "Can't say I do, but I'm heading to Rockheim. I bet they've got some I can bring back for you."

Two lines creased the skin between her eyes. "Wait, you're leaving Steingard already? You didn't even ask me where I'm planning to move!" She swatted my arm, but I could see the hurt on every inch of her face. She'd thought I'd decided on my next home without asking her where she wanted to go. A fond warmth flooded through me. Bloomin' fates, I'd been so focused on freedom that I really had lost sight of everything I already had. Yulla was like family, and she felt the same about me.

"Ah, my love." I threw my arms around her shoulders and hugged her tight against me. "I'd never move somewhere unless I knew you'd be there, too."

She pulled back, sniffling. A few damp spots were splattered across her cheeks. "Then what in fate's name are you going to Rockheim for?"

"I'm going to fix our sunstones, all right?"

She frowned. "But how? No offense Astrid, but I don't see how you going to Rockheim solves a damn thing."

"It's a long, long, loooong story."

She squinted at me. "Wait a minute. You look all flushed. And don't you pretend that Tormund didn't spend the night in your cottage last night. I saw him go in there, looking all horny."

I nearly choked on my saliva.

"That didn't come out quite right. I meant his horns." She tapped her forehead, then grinned wickedly. "Though by the look on your face, I'm guessing I wasn't far off the mark."

"I…" My words were strangled in my throat. I had no idea how to answer that. Yulla and I told each other everything—and I do mean everything. Lying to her wasn't an option. But things with Tormund were so new and delicate that I didn't even know how to talk about it yet.

"My gods." Yulla clapped. "You did get cozy with him, didn't you? Tell me everything. What was he like? Did you play with his horns? Tell me you played with his horns."

"Yulla, I swear I'll tell you everything. Later. Right now, I need that beet sugar so I can save the sunstones."

A spark lit her eyes, and she sprang to her feet as if she'd been injected with the sugar. It was as if all she'd needed was a little bit of hope. And fates be damned, I'd actually been the one to give it to her.

After everything she'd given me over the years.

I blinked back my own tears and watched her bustle around her kitchen. She drew out five large bags of beet sugar and deposited them in my arms.

"There." She stepped back and dusted off her hands. Sugar sprayed into my face. I stuck out my tongue to catch a few stray flecks. Sweetness coated my tongue.

"Thanks. Mind opening the door? These are actually quite heavy."

"Yeah, but you're strong enough, aren't you? You big show-off." Winking, she bustled over to the door and opened it for me. "Too bad we had to call off the trials. I'm starting to think you might have actually been able to give the leaders a run for their money."

I opened my mouth to make a scathing retort about myself, just like I always did. Who did she think she was talking about? Little old me? I was no good at anything. I was weak. I would lose every task in such a humiliating fashion that the bard would come up with a new, demented song about me.

But then I snapped my mouth shut. Did I really still believe all that about myself? Perhaps I wasn't the best, but I wasn't the worst, either. Not by a long shot. Perhaps I could have won a trial or two if I'd really put my mind to it and trained.

If I'd actually believed I could do it.

But I'd never even given myself a real chance. I'd just dismissed any hope of succeeding, to the point where I'd decided I shouldn't even bother trying. What could I have accomplished if I hadn't done that? How well could I have done if only I'd given it my all?

I shook my head. Not that it mattered now. This year's Fittest Under the Mountain had gone up in veritable flames, thanks to all this Everstone nonsense. If we were still in the northern mountains next year, hopefully we'd pick things up again, like they'd never ended. But for now, the games were off.

So I'd never get the chance to prove myself.

"I thought you didn't even want me to compete," I said to Yulla. "In fact, I distinctly remember you looking very panicked about it."

"Yeah, well." She shrugged, patted me on the cheek, and then tossed me another bag of sugar. It landed on top of the others with an inexplicably heavy thump. "I underestimated you, which I should have never done. You're Astrid Balstad, for fate's sake. I've never met anyone who works in the mines as hard as you do. I should have backed you, my love. Should have bet the bloomin' lot of gold on you winning at least one trial." She cocked her head, considering me. "Maybe the one where they steer the mine carts around. Bet you'd be damn good at that."

"I'd probably do all right with that one." I grinned. It felt weird to say something positive about myself, like I was bragging. But I knew Yulla wouldn't see it that way.

"Damn straight. Now go on. You said you're trying to fix whatever's going on with our sunstones. I don't know how you plan on fixing it with beet sugar, but I'm pinning all my hopes on you. You've got this, my love."

And with that, I took her hopes and her belief in me and walked out with enough sugar to make at least a hundred moss cakes.

"What else do we need?" Tormund asked, eyeing the mine cart full of baking supplies.

I'd managed to conjure up quite a lot of cave wheat flour, eggs, stalagmite milk, rum, and well over twenty baking trays. Every time I'd knocked on a door, a frantic and wide-eyed dwarf peered out, afraid I was there to give them even more bad news. And once I filled them in on my plan to fix things with moss cakes, life returned to their eyes, they rummaged around in their house, and donated as much as they could possibly find.

Now Tormund and I had over five mine carts packed to the brim with food and baking supplies. I could only hope my plan—which was admittedly ridiculous—would work. The idea of returning to Steingard and the other nearby villages and telling them I failed…well, it wasn't an option. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing that resigned sadness filling every face again.

No one wanted to leave their homes and move somewhere else. Their lives were here. Everything—and everyone—they knew and loved were in these cottages dotted around the chasm. To upend everything, to find somewhere new, to start all over again…

There were those who loved to wander. And there were those who found a corner of the world they loved, curled up in the warmth and familiarity of it, and found a happiness so bone-deep they yearned to never leave.

I was beginning to realize most of the people I knew were the latter. And I might be the latter, too.

Gods, I bloomin' loved this place. I loved The Wet Beard with its booming laughter and ridiculous songs that I could hear while I worked. I loved the sticky tabletops and the sunstone glow and the brew, even if it wasn't near as good as Lilia's.

I loved my cottage with its cool stone walls and cozy loft. And my plants, all two dozen of them, battling for dominance and eating all my damn food. I loved Yulla and how her voice echoed through the chasm when she called out at me every morning. I loved the feeling I got in my mind and my bones after a long day collecting sunstones for my village. The pride I felt when I replaced another, contributing something important to those I loved.

I even loved the bloomin' chasm and the breeze that flowed through it, carrying the scent of the daisies through every village that clustered around it.

It was home.

It was good.

And it was mine.

Tormund ducked his head before me. "You all right? You've gone quiet."

I smiled up at him. "I'm fine, Tormund. I just…I think I'm finally understanding what you've been trying to tell me all this time."

He brushed my hair away from my face. "And what's that?"

"I don't need freedom to be happy. I have everything I could ever want here in these mountains with the people I love and the home I'm lucky enough to have." I shook my head. "I truly don't know why I've been so determined to get out of here."

Tormund's smile went wide. He stood tall and leaned back on his heels, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. "It's about damn time."

"I know. It shouldn't have taken the death of the sunstones to make me realize, but…there really is nothing more important to me than this place and making sure it survives. I can't imagine living anywhere else."

He cocked his head. "Say it, then."

"Say what?"

"Tell me about your curse. Say the words out loud."

"But I can't do that." I frowned. "If I could, I would have told you about my curse when you first asked me why I was so determined to find the Everstone."

"Ah ha!" He laughed out loud, his face lighting up. "You just said it. See?"

I stared at him blankly. "What are you talking about?"

"You just said the words. ‘My curse.'"

His meaning hit me like a mine cart full of sunstones. Until now, I'd always had to tiptoe around the truth, even with people who knew about the curse. Even with Lilia, who had somehow extracted every nugget of information I had in my mind about it. All these years, and I'd never been able to even mutter the word ‘curse' to her. At least not when referencing myself.

And yet, I'd just said it out loud. Nothing had stopped me. My tongue hadn't twisted; my mind hadn't gone blank.

"My curse," I repeated, revelling in the way it tumbled out of my mouth so easily. "My curse."

I pranced from one end of the mine to the other, tossing faded sunstones into the air. "My curse, my curse, my curse!"

Tormund laughed and chased after me. He caught me by the middle and tugged me into his chest, his shadows whorling around me in victorious laps. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"I can go outside," I said breathlessly.

"You can go outside," he said, beaming.

But then my happiness dimmed. "I meant what I said. I want to stay here. This place is home, and I don't need to see the world beyond any longer."

"I know." He dropped a kiss on my nose. "That's why it's worked. You've accepted your lot. You've embraced it. And now, Astrid Balstad, you get to see the sun."