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She shivered and struggled to increase her pace, her bare feet slapping against the stone steps and echoing off the walls that seemed to be growing ever closer. Her breath began to tighten in her chest to the point it hurt to breathe, and the icy cold in her fingers burned like fire.

At last purple light flooded the stairwell ahead of her. She burst from the last step and staggered into blissful expansiveness.

A jagged breath tore from her lungs as humid air that smelled floral and earthy, like compost, enveloped her.

Her world shattered. Rather, her understanding of how it worked crumpled into confusion. They stood on a wide terrace that stretched into raised stone beds with growing things. Plants and trees and flowers spilled out of the stone beds. The entire area was flooded with warm, purple light. Blissful heat caressed her chilled skin.

Oh, how she had missed the kiss of the sun. She shed her blanket and stretched her arms away from her body to inhale the delicious heat, to let it soak into her bones and soothe her wounded spirit.

When she turned to the others, Math watched her with a cocked eyebrow and Jael with concern.

“How is this possible?” she managed.

The furrow between Jael’s brows eased. “The runestones mimic your sun,” he explained as he motioned to the massive stones in the ceiling above them.

Her heart trilled with the wonder of all the things she had never imagined to be possible. How could there be sunlight without the sun? A garden in the belly of a mountain?

She pressed fingers to her mouth and turned in a slow arc to try to take it all in. If it weren’t for the strange lighting, she could almost believe she stood on real earth with a wide-open sky above her. Something even zipped over her head. With a squeak of surprise, she shaded her eyes and watched the jagged flight of a small creature that was shaped like a bird but moved like a bat. “What is that?”

“A dragonet.” Jael’s voice held a hint of laughter. “They’re harmless, don’t worry. They like to nest where it’s warm and humid.”

The dragonet swooped closer to her. It was about the size of a full-grown hawk, with a sleek, scaled body and two powerful back legs. Its smaller front limbs tucked close to its rose-hued body. As it soared above her, it flicked a thin tail behind itself that feathered at the end. A trilling sound erupted from its throat, reminding her more of birdsong than dragon roar. Several other dragonets answered the call, emerging from crevices in the walls and ceiling to dart above the garden in graceful circles.

Anrid watched the dragonets until they disappeared from her line of sight. Curious, she headed in that direction, wandering between two long flowerbeds. The boxes overflowed with unfamiliar leaves and blooms, with dark-leafed and aromatic plants that reminded her of herbs. Tall stems crowned with pink and purple and orange petals around a prominent center made her think of wildflowers.

The dragonets now forgotten, she wandered deeper into the garden and discovered the stone beds held more than flowers, but also vegetables and vines sporting dark red berries. It made sense now, how the goblins kept the kitchen stocked.

She found her way into a circular clearing. The path she walked on consisted of bricks inlaid with carvings, winding in a circular pattern toward a fountain at the center of the space. A stone goblin child holding a pitcher sprang from the center of the pool. Fresh mountain spring water poured from the mouth of the pitcher and splashed into the pool.

She trailed her fingers through the cold water and found herself grinning.

“You like the garden?”

His deep, quiet voice suited this place, this lovely and magical place. She smiled again and walked around the fountain, letting her fingers trail through the cold spring water.

“It’s magnificent,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen anything like it in all my life.” When she caught his eye, she startled to notice he appeared rather pleased. It mattered to him that she like his greenhouse, although she couldn’t fathom why.

“You should see the gardens in Elysium,” he said as he came to walk beside her, hands locked behind the small of his back as if it were normal to stroll through a garden in one’s nightclothes.

She decided not to dwell on that and ruin the moment.

“I would like that,” she confessed, but a sinking tug at her heart whispered she would never get the chance to see them. “Although, I doubt I will be in Agmon long enough for sightseeing, not if I am to make it back to Gelaira in time for my wedding.” She shot him a wry, half smile.

His expression grew pensive and guarded. “Ah, yes, the famous dark elf husband. Was your wedding date set, then?”

“I hardly know.” She shrugged her shoulders and tried to ignore the anxiety building in her stomach. “I assume it is, but I’ve not been informed of the plans. And now...” She laughed to hide her discomfort. “I can’t help wondering if he will even wait for me or if they’ll find him another girl.”

He grunted and took his time answering as they circled the fountain again. “Would you mind much? If he didn’t wait for you?”

No, the traitorous voice inside her whispered. But she cleared her throat and answered firmly. “Yes, I would be disappointed.”

Now he looked disappointed.

She suspected that didn’t have anything to do with her, however. He was probably thinking about how he needed her help to sort out this magical dilemma with the Bifrost and keeping the children out of mischief until Kora and the Ministry found them a place to go.

Anrid paused and stared down at the pool of water, determined not to look at him. It was difficult when he stood so close and took up so much space. It wasn’t that he was such a big person—although he was taller and broader in the shoulders than most of the men she’d known back home. No, there was something all-encompassing about his presence. She couldn’t have put it into words if her life depended on it.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, the words quiet and resigned. “I never meant to drag you into this.”