Page 38 of A Spark So Bright
He didn't like thinking about this. As always, he squeezed his hands a little tighter. His claws dug into his skin, drawing small pricks of blood that, if he wasn't careful, would soon run over his knuckles.
The thought of what she had suffered? It made him want to kill. The minimal knowledge he had fueled him through many of the war bands he had joined and much of the death he had caused. He’d killed for her.
But Gunnar couldn't tell her that. She was too soft. She didn't like dead things, not even dead moths in the barracks where she was staying.
He ground his teeth and swallowed hard. "I'm not saying I don't believe she could be strong, but she is not strong yet."
"Then you and I are not looking at the same woman."
Egil bent forward and murmured under his breath. The words were hard to catch, but they weren't for Gunnar to hear, anyway. These words were meant for the trees. For the roots that shifted beneath their knees like snakes, trailing up his calf to hold him in place when he would have stood to give his king privacy.
The mountain held him where she wanted him, forcing him to remain and eventually to hear the words that Egil said.
"You would have loved the gathering, Father. There were more trolls than you ever dreamt of. Your work, your legacy, it burns bright in this kingdom. And Mother, I pray you find some solace in the graves of the ancestors. Wife..." There was a long pause, Egil drawing out the word long and low as though even the title tasted sweet on his tongue. "Every day I miss you. Every day I seek your face in the crowd. But soon, I promise you, soon I will bring him home."
And that made Gunnar freeze.
Him.
Surely the king didn't intend to bring his son back to Trollveggen? There were rumors that had gotten out of hand about the young prince. Egil had always made his point very clear. The royal line had always sought women with the highest blood content of elven blood. It didn't matter what the king or queen wanted. They had a duty to the entire kingdom.
They endeavored to make a new species. A new, powerful being that would lead the trolls into dominion over the humans. They would destroy everything, everyone, all that stood in their way.
A servant whispered the words, "Dark elves."
The rumor was always the same. Egil had created a son who was truly a dark elf. Or at least, as close as they had ever gotten. An incredibly powerful man who had been training for years far away from Trollveggen. A son he would only bring back to Trollveggen when he was ready to quell the humans once and for all.
The king lifted his gaze over his knuckles once more and held Gunnar's. It was a look that spoke of the fear in the king's heart. How worried he was to bring his most precious son here.
A son who would bring about a new age. A prince who should have been here his entire life, perhaps, but had been kept safe in the wilds for all this time.
"Your son?" Gunnar whispered, as though even saying the words would bring them far too into reality.
Egil nodded. "He returns, Bone Keeper. It is time for my son to come home."
The words rattled around them, shattering the air like a premonition from one of the ancient wise women. Leaves rained down on their heads, shimmering with a pale glow. They swirled around the king in a circle, as though the mountain herself marked this choice as divine. Leaving Gunnar kneeling outside, looking into this magic that was both terrifying and earth shattering.
She was real. The goddess was here with them. He could feel her suddenly, and he looked down at his feet where the roots had tightened even farther.
And then, gently, he placed his hands on the altar that had warmed.
Egil watched his expression change with a soft, calm look. He nodded when Gunnar glanced up at him, perhaps wearing his shock on his features. "Yes, Gunnar. She is here with us. She is the one who said it is time for Magnus to come home."
"Magnus?"
"The prince of dreams," Egil replied. "A son so great that none who look upon him could question that he is what we have always dreamt to be. A dark elf. A man worthy of all our hard work and powerful beyond recognition. But he journeys through great danger, and I need you to intercept the caravan. The Smoke Reader has seen trouble, and we must do everything we can to avoid it."
"You want me to bring him safely home?"
The honor of that order burned in his chest. There were many others who were better choices. His brother, Ragnar, could heal any wound. It would make sense to send him in case anything went wrong. Bjorn had returned to them, the great berserker of old who could tear through an entire army on his own if he desired to do so.
Gunnar was neither of them. He was a trickster at best, but he knew this mountain better than anyone else. He'd traveled farther, he'd learned from the best in many kingdoms.
Pride made his chest swell. He would bring the prince home, and that would be something that would earn him a piercing everyone dreamt of. The mark of a hero. A bone straight through the bridge of his nose and out the other side.
All would know that he had been the troll to bring about a new age, to help the prince return to them. It was an honor that he could not deny.
Until he remembered the bridal games. And her.
