Page 5 of Heart of the Mountain King

"A warning," Rask sneered. "Between friends," he added, echoing the human's words back to him with no little amount of mischief.

"Some warning," Sten muttered.

"Do not fear," Rask reassured him. "Rask not take unwilling partners. And Rask not yet so lonely to Bargain for a mate."

"So… you are lonely, then?" the obstinate human persisted.

Rask scowled. "All humans this rude?"

One end of the man's mouth tipped up in what Rask supposed could be a smile — provided one allowed for the lack of tusks.

"No," the human answered with a sharply hiccuped laugh of his own. "You just got lucky."

"Rask not feel lucky."

All the man's good humor vanished as he glanced away.

"Sorry," he muttered, sending a pang of guilt curling through Rask's chest.

“Go home," Rask growled, ignoring it. "Leave Rask be."

The man slumped. "If you don't help us, people will die and the quarry will close. Then I'll have no home to go back to."

"Then move," Rask said. "Make new home."

Sten just smiled sadly.

"As you said: 'Where would I go? This is my valley. My heart is here,'" he echoed, throwing Rask's words back at him. The little human sighed. "My whole family works that quarry, Rask. My friends, my neighbors, my parents. Lars's accident was bad enough. What if next time it's my sister? Or Ma? She's the thane's clerk, so she's always on site. My youngest brother starts as a water boy in a month; it's all he talks about. Makes him feel all grown up, joining the family trade, but… He's only eight. He can't see the danger like we can. What if the vættir go after him?"

"They're only humans, Rask," the memory of Hjarta's words echoed in Rask's ears over the thunder of an oncoming storm. "They can't hear the Song like we can. What if the thurs goes after them?"

"Name your price, Rask," Sten said quietly. "Whatever it is… If it's within my power, I'll do it. Just — say you'll help us. Please."

"Hjarta cannot stay here, and watch so many be killed. Help me," he'd begged, Hjarta's hand so warm and firm against Rask's chest. "Please."

"It dangerous," Rask told both human and memory with a grimace, looking away. "Little human does not know what Rask may ask."

"Little human does not care," Sten snapped sharply, but then both his shoulders and voice fell. "Not if it means I can keep them safe."

"Hjarta not care if dangerous. Not if we can keep them safe," Rask's mate had snarled when he'd given the same warning. "Come with me, Rask. Together, one thurs stands no chance."

An ache bloomed in Rask's chest; eyes squeezing shut, he rubbed it absently. For in the end, Rask hadn't gone with Hjarta, had he? No, he'd been too fearful; too concerned with his comforts. Too blind, too cowardly, too stubborn, too —

He sighed.

"Please…" Sten repeated softly, a note of desperation hanging in the air.

"Please…"

— came Hjarta's voice, as if carried by the wind.

Rask blew out the deepest of breaths and stopped, ignoring the sounds of the milling goats bumping into his legs. Closing his eyes, he searched out the faint notes of the Song, and listened.

"Cardinal's gold, a baby's breath, and fire that not burn out," Rask spoke into the stillness, tongue prickling with the taste of magic.

"What?" the little human asked, surprise writ clear across his face as he turned to Rask.

"Three things Sten must give, for Rask to help."