They trooped down the stairs. The two wyrms had less trouble than Danr had expected, but the risers were difficult for human-sized legs, and Aisa finally clambered onto Slynd’s back. At the bottom, a great wooden bridge trundled across a noisome, eye-watering pool of bat droppings that slithered with multilegged insects. When Danr had last been here, the bridge was creaky and more than a little nerve-racking, but someone had rebuilt it firm and strong. At the front of the new bridge, a troll stood guard. It—he—was more than a head taller than Danr, and his massive body was thick as a pile of boulders beneath a rough-and-tumble suit of dwarf-built armor. Thick black hair stuck out from the huge helmet that covered his head, and he carried a bronze-shod club with spikes in it. His jaw jutted pugnaciously forward, pushing his small nose back into his face and letting long white fangs poke upward. Trolls would find him handsome, Danr was certain, even if humans did not. The troll looked to be about eighteen, though Danr hadn’t spent a great deal of time among his father’s people and wasn’t very good at estimating the ages of other Stane. The troll guard raised his great club at them as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Kalessa, Slynd, and Aisa drew back from the troll with literal hisses, but at this distance, Danr was able to recognize him.
“Torth!” he said. “I haven’t seen you in some time!”
The troll stared down at Danr uncertainly. “Do I know you, human?”
“I’m Stane,” Danr said blandly. “I visited our—your—father just before Grandmother Bund died. Aisa here came along. Remember?”
Recognition stole over Torth’s face. It warred with fear and more than a little anger. “I remember. It was because of you my grandmother died.”
Another pang went through Danr, and a weight settled on his shoulders. He remembered with pain Bund casting the spell that opened the Twist to send him, Talfi, and Aisa to Xaron so they could look for the Iron Axe and persuade the orcs to join in the fight against the Fae. The spell had cost Bund the last of her fading strength and killed her. It had also cost Talfi his leg and his life, though that situation had ultimately improved.
“None of us knew she was going to kill herself when she sent us to Xaron,” Danr said quietly. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have let her do it.”
“No one could stop Grandmother Bund from doing anything she decided to do,” Torth grumbled in the dim cavern.
“That is certain,” Aisa put in. “I think of her often, and remember her strength and power. You must be proud to be her grandson.”
Torth seemed a little mollified at that, and he shifted his club with a clank of armor. “So, why are you here? Have you come to see … my family?”
“In a way,” Danr said, and on impulse added, “Look, Torth—you’re my brother. My only brother. I know we aren’t supposed to talk about it because Father’s a prince who fathered a bastard child with a human. But everyone knows what happened. Everywhere else in the world, people toss me gifts and throw me parades. Down here, can’t you and I at least be friends?” He put out a hand and held his breath.
Torth hesitated, then brought up his own hand. Abruptly, he pulled back. “You’re after the queen.”
That caught Danr flat. He dropped his hand. “What?”
“You’re right—everyone knows who you are. You wielded the Iron Axe and saved all of us. I was there, too, remember?”
“You were at Palana?” Danr gasped. “I didn’t see you.”
“We were all somewhat occupied,” Kalessa said.
“I had put on my armor—this very suit of it,” Torth said. His voice was deep and rumbling, though the cavern was too big for an echo. “And I was put in command of a regiment of trolls, dwarfs, and giants, just like Father. The horns sounded to announce sunset, and we marched out the Great Door. Except something went terribly wrong. A Twist wrenched us across the continent, made us all dizzy and sick and scattered our soldiers. The Fae fell on us then and we couldn’t stop the slaughter. Only a few of us had iron armor and weapons, and even those of us who did were too unsettled to use them well. I saw my friends cut in half and their blood ran in black rivers.”
“I’m sorry,” Danr said softly. “I tried—”
“Then you showed up with that Axe,” Torth continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “You called fire and stone from the sky and made the earth shake and cut the Fae to ribbons. I had thought I couldn’t be more afraid when the Fae Twisted us to Alfhame, but I was wrong. You were the most terrifying, fearsome thing I’d seen in my life. Vik himself would have hidden in his bucket of souls when he saw you coming. I pissed myself in my armor.
“You faced down the Queen of the Elves, and she fled like a coward. The queen!” Torth thumped his club on the cave floor, and the sound rang hard. “And then we were suddenly back in Glumenhame, as if none of it had ever happened. Except a great many of us were dead, and our own queen is cursed. And all the doors are open and we are free to come and go. We have food and we have trade with the Kin now. The sacrifice of our people was painful, but not in vain.”
“Er … good?” Danr hazarded.
“And now you’ve returned,” Torth said. “You’re the hero of the Stane. Everyone celebrates who you are and what you did, and they call you a prince. Father could publicly acknowledge you now, and it would make him an even bigger Stane than he is now. But it would shame Mother.”
“Hmm!” Kalessa put in. “He is celebrated and she is shamed, even though he is the one who strayed outside his marriage. You Stane live underground because everything about you is backward.”
“Hey, look,” Danr said, “we don’t need to—”
“You want the crown!” Torth burst out.
This silenced everyone. Water dripped, and Slynd’s scales scraped against stone as he shifted position. Finally, Danr said, “The crown?”
“You’re my brother, which makes you a prince,” Torth spat. “Aunt Vesha has no children, which puts Father in line to be king after she dies—if Death ever takes her—and me in line after him. But now you’re here. You saved us all. The moment you arrive in the city, they’ll throw a great celebration that’ll last for nights. And then Aunt Vesha will have no choice but to put you in line for the throne. First in line. Half-blood or not.” He spat again.
“I thought the Stane disliked like half-bloods,” Aisa said.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Torth said. “Some half-bloods are better than others.”
“To become a full-blood, all you must do is save the world?” Aisa said.
“I don’t want to fight,” Danr interrupted. “And I don’t want the crown.”
Here, Torth paused warily. “You don’t?”
“Up there”—Danr pointed at the ceiling—“I’ve been made a knight and a baron and, when I wasn’t paying attention, a priest. I’ve also been crapped on, spat at, and hit with big sticks. All I really want is to be left alone on a farm somewhere. The last thing I want is to rule over a bunch of people who half love me and half hate me for the way I was born.”
Torth chewed his tongue. Danr felt a strange pain at his hesitation. He’d barely thought of Torth until this moment, but now that he was facing him, he wanted to feel a greater connection. Everyone else he’d grown up with had siblings, but never Danr. Being an only child had accentuated how different he was to the humans around him. Now that he had a brother, he wanted to have a brother. For real. But Torth saw him as a rival, not to be trusted, not to be—
“All right.” Torth held out his hand.
Danr stared down at it stupidly. “What?”
“You’re my brother,” Torth said, still holding out his hand. “It shouldn’t matter, I guess, whether you want the crown or not. Blood is blood. I’m more worried about Mother, but—”
“Brother!” Danr shook Torth’s much larger hand in his own. It was strange to shake hands with someone bigger and stronger than he was, but this was his brother. He had a brother. A small bit of elation feathered through him.
“Just hug him,” Kal
essa said, flicking her tongue. “Truly!”
Torth and Danr embraced, a little gingerly because of Torth’s size and armor, but fully. For the first time in his life, Danr was hugging his brother, and he wanted the moment to go on for a while, even though he had to surreptitiously wipe at his eyes.
“Well,” Torth said, and his voice was a little thick, “I suppose I should bring you into the city. Get the parade started.”
“If it’s all the same to you,” Danr said, “I think we’d rather skip all that. We’re a little pressed for time, and we need to see Aunt Vesha. Can you arrange it?”
“Yeah, course.” Torth cocked a thumb. “There’s a back way into her caverns. I can take you. Brother.”
“Brother,” Danr echoed with a grin.
“Oh, brother,” said Aisa, but Danr caught the soft note in her voice.
*
Danr had not visited the royal caverns the last time he had come under the mountain. They were a series of tunnels dug through the rock that wormed in a thousand directions. Each was polished smooth and overlaid with marble and granite, often shot with veins of gold or silver. Mosaics of precious stones showed scenes from ancient stories—Bosha and Kalina warring with the Fae, trickster Tikk in the shape of a fly landing on Grick’s vulva as Brinna and Fell were born and adding himself to the Nine, Urko being split in half as a punishment and living partially in Glumenhame and partially in Lumenhame. The stones refracted the luminescent light of the ever-present mushrooms, amplifying it and brightening the caves without hurting sensitive trollish eyes. They passed sumptuous rooms with intricately carved stone furniture and even some of precious wood. A great kitchen bustled with a dozen trolls and gave off strange smells that nevertheless made Danr’s mouth water. Torth led them past this room before the huge cooks noticed them and left them in a small side chamber, though small was a relative term—the room would have housed three human families comfortably.
Torth said, “Wait here. Brother.” He left.
“How long does he intend to do that?” Aisa asked.
“Oh, leave it alone. Sister,” Kalessa put in while Slynd explored the room.
“I am only teasing.” Aisa put her hand into the crook of Danr’s arm. “I am glad the two of you have decided to get along. And it will make one part of the Garden that much less of a tangle.”
A moment later, Queen Vesha strode into the room. She towered over everyone there, including the wyrms, but she wore an elaborate dress of night blue velvet embroidered with gold thread. Like with all trolls, her jaw jutted forward, showing plenty of teeth, and she wore her dark hair in a long, thick series of braids wrapped around her head. Torth came behind her, wearing a more straightforward tunic and thick trousers. Both trolls were barefoot—Danr had never met a Stane who went shod except into battle. Vesha went straight to Danr and hoisted him off the floor in a tight embrace. Danr’s breath rushed out of him and his ribs creaked.
“Nephew!” she grumbled in his ear. “It’s been too long! And Aisa!”
Aisa stepped back out of hugging range. “I would rather not be crushed,” she said, “pleased as I am to see you, Highness.”
Vesha set Danr down. “And Torth tells me you brought friends from the orcs. Hail, good Kin.”
Kalessa dipped her head. “Hail, Queen of Trolls.”
“Extraordinary,” Vesha murmured. “If I hadn’t heard of it already from Torth, I’d be shocked. An orc with the power of the shape! The old stories are coming true again.”
“And trolls are allying with humans in Skyford and the city of Balsia, I see,” Aisa said. “I never thought to see that day.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Vesha said. “The new earl in Skyford gets along with the Stane very well, and so does young Prince Karsten. Trolls like to dig, you know. We’re nearly done with the new tunnels.”
“Tunnels?” Danr said.
“We’re working on connecting Glumenhame and Balsia. Soon, trolls and dwarfs and perhaps even giants will be able to travel freely to Balsia and back without ever worrying about the sun. It’s a wonder. The dwarfs have been gloating about the engineering for months.”
“And Prince Karsten approves of this?” Aisa said.
“It was his idea,” Vesha replied. “Bringing the Stane and the Kin together, and everyone profits. Once you get past his mother, you find an extraordinary young man. He’ll be a great king one day.”
“Hmm,” said Kalessa. “All we need now is someone to bring in the Fae and we’ll have world peace.”
“As if that would happen,” Vesha snorted. “How is your friend Talfi, by the way?”
“Talfi? Still alive and kicking,” Danr said.
“And will be for some years to come,” Aisa added.
Vesha scratched her ear. “Good to hear, good to hear. Did he come with you?”
“He had to stay in Balsia,” Danr said, a little puzzled at this turn in the conversation. As far as Danr knew, Vesha hadn’t said more than two words to Talfi. “Listen, I should say that what we’ve come for is a little delicate, Aunt, and we’re pressed for time.”
“Of course, of course,” Vesha said, then added without thinking, “What’s it all about?”
There was a pause, and Aisa had time to say, “Oh dear,” before the direct question forced Danr to speak.
“The Garden that grows in the shade of Ashkame is rotting because Queen Gwylph of the Fae has imprisoned one of the Gardeners, and Gwylph is stealing her power, kind of like the way you stole the power of the draugr and corrupted yourself—sorry—and the only way to get her out is with the Bone Sword, so you have to give it to us right now—sorry—otherwise everything and everyone in the world will die and we’re hoping you’re not that stupid—sorry.”
Torth sucked in his breath at this, and the silence returned. Danr gritted his teeth and looked away. Vesha worked her tongue around the inside of her mouth for a long time.
“After living with Bund,” she said at last, “I should know better than to ask a direct question of a truth-teller. No apologies are necessary. It was my fault for asking.”
Danr breathed a sigh, and Kalessa hissed faintly behind him. “Thank you, Aunt,” he said.
“But I can’t give you the Bone Sword,” Vesha finished.
The silence returned a third time. Finally, Aisa said, “You know we will ask the obvious question.”
“Come with me,” Vesha replied, “and I’ll explain.”
Danr was about to comply, then spread his feet and folded his arms. “Aunt, I think you should explain now.”
Torth took in his breath and Vesha the queen drew herself up. “What do you mean, nephew?”
Her emphasis on the last word was meant to point out his lower status, but Danr had had enough. “We’re trying to save the world. Again. Last time I looked, the world included the Stane. Death herself said we need that sword to do it, and I intend to take it, no matter what you say. I didn’t kill my best friend before the Battle of the Twist and die myself during the Blood Storm just so you could stall me over some petty problem.” Danr tapped his left eye. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll look for myself. And I’ll tell. Aunt.”
“And if the Sword is the only thing that can prevent my death?” Vesha countered.
Danr set his mouth. He’d had a feeling it had something to do with that. “Your life won’t mean much if the world ends. Tell us. Please.”
Vesha hesitated, then nodded. “At least walk while we talk.”
She took them deeper into the caverns, down spiraling stairs and sloping ramps. The decorations faded away, until they were tromping through bare, living rock. They passed other trolls, all of whom leaped aside, startled at seeing the queen herself, let alone the queen accompanied by a human and a pair of wyrms. Vesha ignored them, and Danr took his cue from her.
“The moment I set foot aboveground, Death will come for me,” Vesha said as they went. “I thought Death might do something like that to me when we first bound her. It was a necessary sac
rifice, and I thought I was willing to accept it.” She sighed. “I wasn’t. All my life I’ve wanted nothing more than to walk under the moonlight and feel open air around me. Now it turns out I’m the only Stane who can’t.”
“Where does the Bone Sword come into this?” Kalessa asked.
“I carved it from living bone, with help from the dwarfs,” Vesha said. “The sword is alive, which makes it the only weapon that can ward off Death.”
A chill ran down Danr’s spine. “You want to fight Death herself?”
“The moment I cross that threshold,” Vesha said with a firm nod, “I will challenge her to personal combat. When I win, I will walk the world above as I please.”
“You cannot mean to kill Death,” Aisa protested.
“Of course not!” Vesha said. “I will vanquish her and force her to lift the curse.”
“Then why haven’t you done it already?” Danr asked shakily as they came to the bottom of another staircase.
“Truth?” Vesha said. “Because I am … cowardly. I am working up the courage. I will only have one chance, and if I lose, Death will drag me through her door. It frightens me.”
“Then let us have the sword,” Kalessa said, “and when we are finished with it, we will return it so you may continue working up your courage.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” Vesha said. “You might not return it, and I would lose my chance forever.”
Aisa narrowed her eyes. “Whose bone is it?”
The earth moved. It rumbled beneath Danr’s bare toes. A faintly sick feeling stole over him, and he had to swallow hard to keep his gorge down. Dust sifted down from the ceiling. Then the movement stopped. Aisa and Kalessa exchanged confused looks. Vesha paled.
“The Nine!” Danr swore, trying to keep his stomach down. “What was that?”
“So you felt it, too,” Vesha said.
“Of course we felt it,” Aisa said. “It was an earthquake.”
“No,” Vesha said. “It was more than that. It felt like someone ran a dirty hand over my soul.” She withdrew a ridiculously small key from her belt and handed it to Torth. “Run ahead and check the vault. Tell the guards we’re coming.”
Bone War Page 19
