Chapter 7

"What do you mean you asked her to come here?" Altan deposited another log on the fire in the center of our circle of tents. Dwarves didn't seem to rely on fires for warmth. Their sunstones emitted heat and even helped them grow their crops. But it didn't feel right to spend an evening without flames, so we'd brought enough logs with us to last a week.

Meral sat hunched on the ground, whittling a plank of wood she'd brought with her. Half was already carved into the shape of a horse's head. It would only take her another day to sort the second half out. I'd never met anyone who was a better woodcarver. Reis, Altan's partner and our assistant for the games, was off doing who knew what—likely drinking the night away at The Wet Beard, shouting the words to the dwarven folk songs he'd already memorized.

"I think Astrid and I got off on the wrong foot. I thought if I told her why I need the Everstone, she won't be so prickly toward me," I said.

"Who cares if she's prickly? We didn't come here to make friends," Meral said, glancing up, her shadows whipping around her face and hands.

"And maybe she's just a prickly person," Altan added.

"I doubt that. Besides, she's the expert on the Everstone. I need her to not hate me," I said.

Meral waved her wooden piece in the air. "Bah. You can win it through the competition now. You don't need Astrid's knowledge anymore."

"Except I don't know how to actually use the Everstone's power after I win it."

Altan knelt beside to fire and stoked the fire with a long metal stick. "How hard can it be? Just ask it for what you want, and I'm sure it'll give it to you."

But that seemed too easy. In fact, all of it seemed too easy. Ever since I'd laid eyes on the Everstone back in the arena, my stomach had tangled into knots. There it was, the elusive gem that held the power I'd coveted for so many years. All I had to do was win the dwarven competition, something I'd already planned to do. And it would be mine.

No hunting the mines. No following Astrid during her daily tasks. No coaxing out information with encouraging smiles and witty banter that made her face light up and that tinkling laugh fall from her lips. Fates, that laugh was a gorgeous thing.

But nevermind that. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right…

"Surprised you put your tent here instead of outside my cottage so you could spy on me all day and night," called out Astrid, her lilting voice almost singing to the tune of the bells jingling in her hair.

She stepped into the cave and looked around. A few other strangers to the mountain—spectators from the other Isles—had packed into the space as well. There were about a hundred of us in total, building fires, cooking food, and sharing whatever supplies we'd brought with us. Some had even hung their banners on their tents to signify who they supported this year. It made it all feel a bit festive.

I slung my hands into my trouser pockets and crossed the distance between us. "What an excellent idea. Would you like to help me move my tent?"

She laughed, her eyes crinkling in the corners. My chest lifted.

"Guess there's no need for that anymore, eh? The bloomin' gem's been found."

"Yes," I said, frowning. "About that."

She squinted at me. "You've got that look on your face again. The same expression you had when Jostein revealed the Everstone. I thought you'd be thrilled Rockheim found it."

"It's a lovely coincidence," I said. "Like the gods themselves lined things up just for me."

Or you.

I didn't want to alarm Astrid, but some of my unease was very much originating from her direction. She had not entered the competition herself. At first, I'd thought little of it. Anyone could have put forth her name. Someone might believe in her more than she believed in herself and thought she was worthy of a win. Or maybe someone was playing a prank. They thought it would be funny to see her flail around. Why? Maybe she'd annoyed the wrong person years ago, and they were just now getting their revenge.

But then the Everstone had appeared. Everyone knew Astrid was desperate for the stone. I'd already heard dozens of dwarves talking about it. And it just so happened to be the champion's prize the same year she'd been entered against her will. What were the bloody odds of that?

She scrunched her cute little nose. "Now that you say it like that, it does sound strange. The same year you enter is the same year the champion's prize is the stone."

Gods, she could have taken the words right out of my head. Only she was talking about me, and I was talking about her.

"Unnerving, right?"

"Very." She frowned. "What do you make of it?"

"I'm not sure yet." I turned and gestured toward the circle of tents. Altan and Meral had made themselves scarce, though I had a feeling they were lurking close enough to eavesdrop on every word Astrid and I exchanged.

Nosy bastards.

Astrid followed me to the campfire and plopped down on the log Altan had been using as a chair. She held out her hands, warming herself on the fire. The flames cast an orange glow across her face that matched the gorgeous shade of her hair.

I blinked and cleared my throat. "I'm surprised you came."

She shrugged. "You said you had cake."

"Oh, that's right." Chuckling, I pulled the wrapped cake from my pack and tossed it her way. She caught it one-handed and had it unwrapped before I'd managed to take a seat. Her eyes widened at the creamy frosting and the rich crimson cake.

"Bloomin' fates. What is this?" she breathed.

"Red Demon Cake with buttermilk frosting. Try it. You'll love it."

She bit into the cake without hesitation, frosting coating her upper lip. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she moaned. "This is amazing. You have to give me the recipe."

"Gladly," I said. "Though you won't find most of the ingredients under the mountain."

Her face fell. She wiped the frosting off her lip. "Of course not."

"Sorry. You could still make it, but it'll require a trip above ground to trade with the sailors or the other Isles," I said.

She cleared her throat. "You said you were going to tell me why you want the Everstone."

"And I will." I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees. "But I'm going to need something for you in return."

"I see. That's why you're buttering me up with cake."

"And is it working?"

"Depends on what you want."

"Tell me where you thought you'd find the Everstone."

A tense silence followed. Astrid took another bite of the cake and chewed thoughtfully before she swallowed heard and said, "I'll tell you that, but I need something from you in return." She shot me a wolfish smile.

"Ha! All right. What's your request?"

"I want to know why you're asking me this question."

I studied her carefully. Astrid studied me right back. It was as if we were dancing around a conversation we both wanted to have but didn't quite trust the other enough to voice. At the end of the day, I didn't know this lass, and she was a competitor. She'd do whatever it took to get her hands on the Everstone—she was cursed, after all—even if that meant betraying my confidence.

Because what would there be to betray, really? We were strangers.

And yet I found myself saying, "It's like I said earlier, something doesn't feel right about that gem."

"And you want to know where I thought I'd find it. As in, you want to know if I thought it'd be in Rockheim? Which means you're not sure it would have been." She leaned forward. "You don't think it's a fake, do you?"

"It certainly didn't look or feel like a fake."

As soon as the dwarves had unveiled the Everstone, a rippling power had washed across my skin. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't devoid of magic. It did something. I just wasn't convinced it did what we all thought.

She nibbled on her bottom lip. "There's a tunnel not far from The Wet Beard. For a really long time, I was convinced it was there, but I've explored every inch of it multiple times. It's not there."

I arched my brow. "I think I'd like to see that tunnel."

"And I don't think I'm keen to show it to you."

"I've got more of that cake," I said, pointing at the red crumbs scattered around her boots.

"Using my weaknesses against me is extremely unfair." She stuck out her hand, palm up. "Gimme."

"Gladly." I passed her the cake, but instead of digging in straight away, she tucked it into the leather satchel slung around her shoulders. "But first, you need to tell me why you want the Everstone."

I sighed. I had agreed to do just that, but it wasn't something I much liked speaking of, least of all to someone I barely knew. But I couldn't back out now. If I did, she'd never help me. I'd just keep it short and sweet.

"My brother is ill. The Everstone has enough power to heal him."

She sat a little straighter on the log. "Ill? I'm sorry. What's his affliction?"

"It's some kind of skin issue," I said tightly. "It means he cannot withstand the sun's rays. He's destined to remain in the darkness unless I find him a cure."

Astrid blinked at me. Her lips pressed together into a harsh white line. And there was so much forced pity in her expression that it made me wish I could take back my words. She likely thought what everyone else did: why would a shadow demon even care? We loved the dark. But Tahir yearned for the sun's rays, and he needed the world above. I'd do anything to give it to him.

"That must be difficult for him," Astrid eventually said.

"No need to be sarcastic." I rose. Time to leave this conversation and explore the tunnel Astrid had mentioned.

She stood, brushing the crumbs from her shirt. "I'm not being sarcastic. I feel for the lad and wouldn't wish that fate on anyone."

"Most people point out that shadow demons thrive in the darkness," I said slowly.

"No one should have to remain in the darkness forever, not even a shadow demon."

Something in my chest stirred. I cleared my throat, at a loss for words. Not something I often experienced. A moment ago, confiding in Astrid had been the last thing I'd wanted to do. She clearly hated me. And I wasn't too fond of her, either.

But she'd listened to my story—the little of it I'd told—and she'd heard me.

That didn't mean I'd let her have the Everstone, though. It was mine.