Chapter 17
17
FRIDA
R une was burning up. Sprawled across the timber floor of his cottage, he was completely unconscious. I leaned over him, examining his body. His trousers and his cloak seemed to be crafted from leather that had been treated with copious amounts of oil, which made them pretty water resistant. The material had taken the brunt of the rain, but enough had broken through the front of the cloak to drench his tunic.
Moira raced over, meowing furiously. Strands of her black hair littered the floor. She weaved back and forth, her ferocious little gaze locked on Rune’s prone form.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This is my fault. He wouldn’t be like this if he hadn’t come looking for me.”
Why had he come for me? It was completely nonsensical. If he had any wits about him, he would have left me to ride out the storm. I’d told him I planned to return to the guild and lie about his existence. If he’d left me alone, he could have rid his troubled mind of Erik once and for all.
But that could still happen. There was nothing stopping me from walking away now and finding a better hiding place. Nothing but my instinct to help him.
And the Elding.
I glanced at the door. Wind rattled the wood against the hinges, and the sound of the rain had built to a roar. Going outside now would be foolish, but even if the storm let up, I couldn’t leave him like this.
Gently, I unhooked the front of his cloak and tugged it off his body. Then I sat back on my heels, wringing my hands. Through the thin, wet material of his tunic, I could already see his skin turning red. Really, I needed to remove the shirt. It was the best thing for him.
Heart pounding in my ears, I leaned over him and quickly unbuttoned the tunic before sliding the front of it off his shoulders. His muscular torso gleamed in the flickering hearth-light, and angry red welts marred his oak moss skin. Swallowing, I leapt to my feet, dashed into my bedroom, and grabbed one of the towels he’d provided for me.
When I returned to his side, Rune had awakened, though his eyes were slitted in pain. I patted his skin with the towel, trying my best to avoid pressing the welts too hard.
“Can you sit up?” I asked him.
“You don’t need to fuss like this.”
“I can try to pull the shirt out from under you, but I don’t know how I’ll manage with all your weight on it.”
A strange smile curled his lips. “This might be the most ironic moment of my life. My assassin is trying to get me naked so she can save me from more pain.”
“Don’t get so excited,” I scolded him. “I only want to get you topless. Now can you sit up or not?”
“All right. But I apologize ahead of time for the words that might come out of my mouth.”
“I’ve lived in a guild-hall with a bunch of assassins for an entire year,” I said dryly. “Nothing you can say would be worse than what they spouted on a daily basis.”
That smile appeared again, and a flush of satisfaction warmed my chest. “Careful, I might take that as a challenge.”
Rune palmed the floor beside him, and I slid my hands along the curves of his shoulders to help keep him steady. With a pain-filled grunt, he shoved against the timber, conjuring a small gap. Quickly, I peeled the material out from under his body, and he thunked back onto the floor.
“Fucking fate.” He closed his eyes, his breath coming out in short puffs. “That fucking hurt.”
“I’m sorry. You’ll feel better after I get your salve.” I stood. “Wait here.”
His low chuckle followed me to his bedroom door. “Do I really look like I’m going to wander away right now?”
A smile tickled my lips. Shaking my head, I went inside his room and took two tins from his salve collection. Back in the main room, he’d closed his eyes again. He was silent as I spread the salve across the wounds on his chest, which made it a lot easier. I had difficulty concentrating on what I was doing when he was staring up at me.
When I was done, I managed to get him on his feet. With his arm wrapped around my shoulder, we shuffled into his bedroom. I turned my back to him while he shucked off his trousers and climbed into bed.
“All right, you can turn around now,” he said.
I moved to his side, fighting the urge to drape my hand across his forehead to check his temperature. “Do you need anything else?”
“Yes. I need you to not do what you’re thinking of doing,” he said. I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “I can tell by the look on your face. You’re wondering if you should leave now, since I’d struggle to chase you. Don’t do it, Frida. Stay.”
“Why? What could possibly compel you to want me to stay?” My voice came out rough.
“I have an idea that could fix things for all of us. But you need to stay and hear me out.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip, then said, “I don’t see what could be better than my plan to return to the guild and tell Erik you’re not here.”
“You need to take him something, or he’ll say you failed.” Rune’s eyes slid shut. “And then you’ll get kicked out of the guild. Or worse. I know you don’t want that.”
“What could I possibly take him?”
“A dragon,” Rune said.
I blinked. “ What? ”
“A dragon. His name is Eldi, and he’s lived on this island for the past twenty odd years. It might take a little effort on your part to get him to trust you. But if you manage it, you can take him to Erik and say you never got the second assignment letter. You did what he asked, and now he has a dragon.” Rune cracked open one eye. “Though you’ll have to swear you’ll help Eldi get out of there once you’re fully inducted into the guild. Erik is a bastard who can never have a dragon under his command.”
My heart pounded, shock punching me in the gut. When I spoke, my voice came out only as a whisper. “So you do have a dragon. You’ve had one this entire time?”
“No. He’s not mine,” Rune said gruffly. “I had a dragon once, and once was all I needed. I don’t have it in me to bond with another. So if you want to convince him to help you, he’s all yours. It just might not be easy.”
My mind spun through everything he’d told me. I’d be a fool to think this could work. Erik had never sent me here for the dragon—that wasn’t what he truly wanted. But how could he be certain I'd received his message? The Elding raged outside, drowning the island in wind and rain. It shouldn’t be difficult to convince Erik that the owl had never reached me or that the parchment had been lost to the storm.
If I took him a dragon, I’d technically complete the original assignment. That wasn’t failure. He’d have to make me a full member because I’d done the impossible for him. While I was at it, I could even say I’d never met an orc. I’d found the dragon all on my own. Erik would have to look elsewhere for Rune.
Rune was right. This could fix things for everyone .
Hope bloomed in my chest. I nodded and held out my hand. “It’s a deal.”
Rune chuckled, though he gently took my hand and shook it. “Don’t get so excited. Like I said, it might not be easy.”
T he next morning, the cottage was empty, and the sound of splitting wood drifted in from the open front door. Rune had left a basket of bread on the table for me, though I suspected he’d had a good deal of it himself if the muddy footsteps leading to and from the table were any indication. Shaking my head, I took a chunk of the bread and poked my head outside.
Rune stood beside a pile of wooden logs, sweat curling across his bare, mottled chest. He heaved his axe into the air and brought the sharp end down on a log. It split in two, and he tossed the pieces into the growing pile. His taut muscles glistened in the morning sunlight slanting through the trees. Swallowing, I wandered over to him, noticing he’d already cleared up the broken section of his shed.
“Either you have an addiction to work or you heal faster than anyone I’ve ever met,” I said, giving him a flat stare. “Don’t you need to rest?”
“Rest is for the wicked,” he said, easing the head of his axe onto the ground and draping one arm across the handle. Fate, he looked incredible. Not that I cared, of course. I was just noticing. Most people would.
I cleared my throat. “Now that’s just not true. After the night you had, no one would think you’re wicked for taking the day off.”
“Helga needs a new home, and the dwarves need a fence.” Rocking back on his heels, he swiped the back of his arm across his forehead. “I’m not in bad enough shape to let them down by not doing my job.”
I frowned. “If they knew what happened last night, I’m sure they’d understand. Let me—”
“You’re not going to talk me out of it, but if you want to help, feel free to jump in,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument. He was going to do this, even if every wound on his chest still looked angry and raw—which they did. And if I didn’t help him, he’d have double the work. Last night, I’d agreed to carry on as his assistant while I tried to tame the dragon, and I’d meant it. If he didn’t want to kick me out after what he’d learned about me, then I was happy to stay and leave a good mark on this island. And that meant helping him do whatever woodworking tasks needed doing.
I sighed. “All right. Where should I start?”
Rune motioned at the pile of split logs. “Get those inside the shop. We can’t risk the wood getting wet if the storm decides to swing back around another time.”
And so I nodded, squared my shoulders, and got to work.
T he hardest, most physically exhausting work of my life consumed the next few days. Every morning just before dawn, Rune slammed his fist against my door with enough force that I was sure the wood would spring free of its hinges sooner rather than later. I threw on my clothes and padded out into the main room rubbing sleep from my eyes, only to find Rune was already outside hammering or sawing or muttering curses beneath his breath.
My glaring lack of skills initiated more than one debate about how I could possibly have the steady aim of an expert archer but manage to fumble a bag of nails. After one such argument, I spent at least an hour on my hands and knees, picking through the grass to find every nail I’d dropped. Other times, he praised my dogged insistence to toil away for the same long hours that he did. In fact, I remained on my feet for so long that my eyes slammed shut within seconds of my head hitting the pillow every night.
Several days after Rune had rescued me from the redwood tree, I sat cross-legged on the dwarven farm, erecting a section of their new fence while Rune was back at the cottage prepping timber beams for Helga’s replacement home. The children were out playing in the garden while Arvid and his partner were tending to their horses. It was a peaceful late-spring afternoon. Birds perched in the drooping branches overhead, filling the air with their high-pitched orchestra. The Elding had not shown its face since that fateful night. Clear skies and peaceful breezes had chased it away, and the sun’s warmth caressed the back of my neck.
I hummed to myself, proud of how much progress I’d made in such a short time. About a quarter of the fence was already completed, though I’d nearly run out of wood. Still, at this rate, I’d finish well within the two-week time period we’d promised the dwarves.
Arvid wandered over with a steaming mug in his hand. “Thought you might like a cup of tea while you work, but I didn’t account for how hot it is out here. Summer is well and truly on its way.”
I set the beam of wood down, smiling. “I don’t mind how warm it is. A mug of tea sounds lovely right now. Thank you, Arvid.”
He eagerly handed it over, the bells in his beard chiming. “I hope you like it. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Shifting on his feet, he cleared his throat. “And I, ah…well, I’d be happy to keep your mug filled with as much as you can drink.”
A knowing smile spread across my face. “What is it, Arvid? Would you like me to change something about the fence?”
“Oh no!” His eyes went wide. “I love the fence. It’s perfect. It’s just…while you were here yesterday, I went to see how Rune was getting on with Helga’s house, and he mentioned you’re an excellent archer. One of the best, in fact, he said.”
For an odd reason I couldn’t quite identify, my heart lurched. “Rune actually said that to you?”
“Oh yes. He said he had every faith you’ll do well in woodworking because you know how to dedicate yourself to learning a skill.”
“Well, that’s…” Surprisingly complimentary. Rune had been his grumpy self these past few days. He’d been so involved with his work that he had little time and energy at the end of the day to do more than exchange a few pleasantries before heading off to bed. My own bone-aching weariness welcomed the early nights, especially since it meant I’d already torn through two of the romance novels he ‘accidentally’ owned.
At times, I’d wondered if he might regret offering me the position. The two of us barely talked, even over dinner.
“Anyway.” Arvid rocked back on his heels, nervously twisting his hands. “One of my girls keeps pestering me about archery, but the thing is, it’s not really something taught down in the Deep, where I grew up. Now I know you’re busy right now, but once you have some free time, I was hoping you might be willing to consider showing her some tricks. In exchange for some tea, of course. I mean, if you might possibly have any inkling of a willingness to maybe—”
“Of course I’ll teach your daughter, Arvid,” I cut in softly, partly to put him out of his rambling misery and partly because my chest seemed to expand at the thought of teaching someone else to use a bow and arrow, the same way my mother had taught me. An ache went through me, remembering her smile.
“What? You wouldn’t mind?” He stood up a little straighter.
“I would love to. In fact, I’d be honored.”
He clapped his hands, his eyes brightening with enough light that they could rival the sun. “Oh, thank you, Frida. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can’t wait to tell her. She’ll be so excited!”
“Well, go on then.” I grinned. “As long as you don’t mind me using a daily hour of fence building time, you can even tell her we’ll start tomorrow.”
“Absolutely!” he exclaimed. And then he was off, bustling toward his cottage with his bells jingling wildly.
“That was kind of you,” came a rumbling voice from behind me.
Stomach twisting, I turned toward said voice to find Rune walking up and down the length of my fence, poking at every beam, like the whole thing might collapse against the slightest bit of pressure.
“It’s not kindness. He’s paying me in tea.”
His lips quirked up in the corners. “Yes, you’re very greedy with your demands for tea and cheese.”
“And books,” I added.
He arched a brow. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re already done with two. I’ve only got one more. After that, you’ll have to try another genre.”
“Or maybe you could just admit you like romance novels and get a few more.” Grinning up at him, I brushed the wood shavings from my palms and stood.
“Those were accidental purchases, and—”
“ One might be accidental,” I said, taking a step toward him. “Two is a little harder to believe, but I’d let it slide. Three , however…Well, that seems pretty damn purposeful to me.”
A full-on grin filled his face. “I’m afraid I’ve never read a romance book in my life. Sorry to disappoint you, sunshine.”
A heady warmth filled my chest, then skated up my neck and into my face. My eyes caught on his, on the rich brown of his irises. They were the color of freshly tilled earth, of the timber beams he’d dedicated his life to sanding and polishing and building his entire world around. He was this forest, and the forest was him. And not for the first time in the past few days, I had the sudden urge to reach out and feel the warmth of his skin.
Instead, I cleared my throat and looked away. “That’s okay. I’m sure I’ll like the other books in your collection.”
“Well, you still have one romance novel left. You can start reading it tonight after we get home from visiting Eldi.”
My heart leapt into my throat. “The dragon? Today’s the day?”
Rune had wanted to make headway on his work before taking me to meet the dragon, and I hadn’t complained. He was doing me a favor with this, and deep down, I knew I didn’t deserve his help. So I’d put my head down and had done what he’d asked, getting lost in the work myself.
But it was time. Today, I would set my sights on a dragon for the very first time, and I didn’t know whether I should be excited or afraid. Maybe a bit of both.