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“A dwarf must go through the underground to open certain tunnels fer fall out if we get stuck inside. Somethin’ I canna do if I go with ye.”
“What is Mondu, exactly, Argen?”
He took a deep breath. “Mondu is the resting place fer our heroes. It was made well before the Hall of Remembrance, which was created fer the kings. Mondu was made for the warriors, the legends, the heroes, the famed bladesmiths, and the war survivors. It’s an ancient and honored tomb.”
A dwarven crypt. Lovely.
“So, we are looking for a weapon that’s in… there?” My mind snagged on the visual of taking a sword from a skeleton’s hands in a sarcophagus and I shivered.
Argen bit his lip and glanced at Sahlyn. “Me…”
To have a dwarven warrior, whom I’d watch fell wolves with a flick of his mighty double-edged battle axe, be brought to such an anxious and conflicted state had me instantly alarmed.
“Spill it, Argen.” I bit out, because I had a feeling he was holding back what he wanted to say because I was alowly little girl. Not that he made me feel that way. Nor that I assumed he continued to think that way, but that’s how his expression made me feel when he searched Sahlyn for confirmation and acceptance.
Delicate, I was not, and they knew it.
Sahlyn’s fingers caressed my hand until I opened it for him, and he slipped his fingers into mine. “Autumn, what Argen is going to tell you is… unsettling after the vision you had in the fortress.”
Oh. Swallowing, I gave one shallow nod to them. Got it.
“Aye. A century ago, Cabro Lightfoot lived in the limelight of legend and fame. Every dwarf bowed at his approach, everyone respected him above all others, even above kings. Legend says that Creedrell Fang was jealous and sent Cabro on an impossible quest to take down a Hoarfrost Dragon, which was fabled to hoard precious gemstones. He gave Cabro the quest to procure the Golden-Emberite dragon egg gem—and if he found it he could be king. It’s a fabled item that young dwarves were often tasked with findin’ and ‘ave never been successful. It’s a massive gemstone, perfectly polished in the shape of a dragon egg. It’s the reason the dragon hoarded it all those years, thinking it an unhatched young’un. All that’s recorded is that Cabro accepted, and no one heard from him again. Creedrell ran the dwarves into the ground, made low-born into slaves, and made them work in the mines all day to procure more and more precious stones.”
I sucked in a breath and released it slowly. “So, we are searching Mondu for the sword of Cabro Lightfoot, but we aren’t completely sure it’s even in there?”
“Aye. Legend states that one of the tunnels in Mondu leads to the Golden-Emberlite egg, and so we assume his fate led him to one of those tunnels.”
“We only want the sword,” Sahlyn said steadily. “That was all I was told we needed to retrieve.”
“Ye can retrieve it. I might… venture.”
Of course, he was coming for his own reasons. Unsurprised, I nodded. I couldn’t blame him for wanting a little glory in a time of darkness. I could only imagine the uplift in spirit and morale such a thing would do for the dwarves.
“So, how doweget there?”
“I’ll draw ye a map. We leave at dawn.”
The music rushed over me, heating my blood. Something about the drums called to me like the mountain air. I was swaying in place when a firm hand touched my wrist, and I looked up into blue-gray eyes.
“You look too lost in thought for such a night.”
I sighed deeply. He wasn't wrong. Being here twisted me up in ways I hadn’t thought possible. My eyes swept his face. Much likehedid to me.
We’d left Argen’s hut and gone separate ways. Esme wasn’t at home, so I had come back out when I’d heard music. The entrancing sound had beckoned me to the fire, and the players strumming instruments.
“I was just thinking that this music is wonderful. So different than at court.”
We both knew that’s not what I was thinking about, but he didn’t comment on it.
“At the palace, it is even different.”
“Oh? How are things at the palace, Sahlyn?”
He looked uncomfortable for a long moment. “You wouldn't be able to handle how things are at the palace.”
“Probably true.”
He glanced at me again, from the top of my hair, across my face, and down my chest, and back up. His perusal heated my cheeks, but it was fair. I’d done the same to him just a few hours ago.
