Page 42 of A Spark So Bright
"I think he'll find you before you find him." Torbin rapped his knuckles on the counter.
She flinched at the sound, but the sound forced her to look at him. He wasn't angry with her. He was just watching her with those eyes that saw too much.
"Go now," he said. "And don't forget your cloak so you can block out the world when you need to. I’ll make up something so Astrid doesn’t send the army after you."
She raced from the kitchen. Rose didn't know if she was running from him, the discomfort of conversing with another person, or... the reality that Torbin knew too much about her. Perhaps because he had been through the same thing.
Seventeen
Gunnar
He shouldn't have left her behind, but he couldn’t have brought her. Gunnar knew damn well that Rose wasn't likely to ever leave Trollveggen again. And that was fine. He almost preferred her to stay here. At least he knew where she was and that she was safe. Anywhere outside of this mountain had already proven far too dangerous for her to be. He couldn't trust her around other humans.
But leaving without her? It made a pit in his stomach open up, and he didn't enjoy that feeling. She was... well, he felt a connection to her. Just like his king had said.
Perhaps that connection skewed a little unhealthy. He paused for a moment on his journey, looking back at the main tree where the castle was tucked into its trunk. The violet leaves that decorated the branches were larger than him, but way up here, it made the tree almost look small.
There, hidden among the roots, he knew she was safe. He could feel a knot in his chest release at the knowledge, certain foronce that she was all right. She was going to be okay even while he was gone.
He didn't trust Torbin as much as he might have trusted his brother, but he was almost as good. Gunnar could focus on this job without worrying that Rose was going to walk off a cliff.
And if he had brought her, that was exactly what he would have been afraid of her doing. She was always on cliff edges, that woman. Or worse, he'd find her standing in front of a venomous snake, unaware that it was right in front of her. Or a wolf pack tracking her because she'd gotten up in the middle of the night to wander, and he wouldn't be able to find her in time.
Even thinking about the possibilities made his heart race. There were just too many opportunities for a woman like her to get harmed while traveling. He had to focus on getting the prince and keeping him safe.
That was the only thing that mattered here.
So he turned away from the sight of his home with all the colorful leaves and bright rivers that traveled through it, and instead focused on the path that led toward the stone wall of the mountain.
He was lost in his thoughts for most of the walk. Preparing to meet a prince was something he had never anticipated having to do. King Egil hadn't told him much about what the prince was like, but he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't be easy to travel with. King Egil was the worst while traveling. All royals likely were.
Halfway through these thoughts, the hairs on the back of Gunnar's neck stood up. They always did that when he was being watched, and he assumed another troll was heading out on patrol. But no one passed by him. No one called out and hailed a recognizable figure like Gunnar.
Whoever it was, they were just watching. No, they were trailing him. Hunting him. Following along in each of his footsteps.
They were very quiet, he'd give them that. He barely even heard them walking, but he knew without a doubt they were there. He could feel their eyes, sense the heaviness of their breath that they were trying to hide. This was someone very ill prepared to attack a man like him.
What if this was a human? They'd brought a lot of new people into this kingdom and if it was a human tracking him...
Gunnar veered to the left, the path growing tighter as he chose a much narrower exit. It would give him the chance to see if the person following him really was a troll. If they were, they would know better than to take this path. It didn't lead anywhere. A cave-in had closed the passage years ago, and they hadn't seen any reason to open it back up.
Ducking into the shadows and pressing his back against the wall, he waited still and silent as the stone surrounding him.
Whoever it was followed him into the passage. Their footsteps were still so light, so precise, and anger burned in his chest. How dare they?
The trolls had opened up Trollveggen and someone had slipped in and thought it was acceptable to follow a troll, nay, not even follow. They were here for nefarious reasons and didn't want anyone to know that they were coming after him.
He lunged the moment they stepped past him, grabbing the human by the back of the throat. His hand closed around the thick padding of a cloak over their head, obviously trying to conceal their identity. This only underlined the fact that they were hunting him, and that they had to be treated as all humans should be.
A hard lesson was the only thing that could get through their thick skulls.
"I am not a troll to hunt," he snarled, his voice deep and low as he heaved the human out of the cave.
It took so little effort to throw them. Gunnar tossed the human out of the opening of the passage, and they landed hard in the dirt. Bright blue leaves cushioned their fall, and the moss around them glowed with the impact. The light illuminated the cloak that completely covered their body, just enough for Gunnar to leap forward and straddle their waist.
He used all of his weight, bearing down upon them, forcing them to remain in the dirt as his clawed hand closed around their throat. Most of his grip was still fabric, but he could feel the tips of his claws digging into their skin as he forced their head to face the light.
And all he saw was porcelain. Pale skin, white hair, almost as though he had a ghost in his grip. Surely not a person who was alive.
