I point at Gerald.
“See? Day one. I called it. He’s the trap.”
Agreement, obviously. Look at him.
Then it’s just us — me, Gerald, a hole where a door should be, and a dragon box on the desk that I am not looking at.
“And not a word about the rest of it.”
He doesn’t say anything. But it feels judgmental.
I drink my coffee.
Stars,my brain offers, helpfully.
We’re not doing that either.
Chapter 22
Gunnar
I have broken more doors than any man alive, and nobody has ever once made me replace one.
Also, I didn’t even break this one. Rayner broke this one. And they’re making me go shopping anyway.
Shopping.
They can’t be serious.
They are, and apparently I’m expected to participate.
We’re barely into the lobby when I see him. Leif, over by the front doors, looking like a man who didn’t spend the whole night outside.
Which is how I know he spent the whole night outside.
“We’re replacing her door,” Erik says.
“Good.” Leif’s already looking past us, toward the stairwell. “I’ve got her until you’re back.”
Brock’s the one who asks it. “You’re really going up there?”
Something crosses Leif’s face and is gone before I can make it out. His eyes flick to the box.
“Stairs,” he says.
“Commander of Ásp Móra,” I say. “Undefeated in thirteen realms. Beaten by a box.”
“It’s a metal box with doors that close on purpose.” He’s already moving. “That’s a trap.”
“We already have one of those. She said so.”
Brock’s mouth does something he’d deny.
Erik doesn’t move. He’s got one hand on the front door and his whole head three floors up, and every one of us can see it.
“Erik.” Leif, from the second step. “I said I’ve got her.”
Erik’s jaw works once. Then he nods, and we watch Leif go up the stairs steady and unhurried, like a man reporting for a shift.
