Page 29 of A Darkness So Sweet (The Kingdom Below #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

MAIA

They didn’t talk about how Ragnar had killed a group of her people. Maia wasn’t sure why a voice inside her head screamed for her to not confront him about what he’d done. Maybe there was some sense of self preservation in there, and the recognition that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to deal with it.

She knew what trolls did to the humans they caught. She’d grown up with the stories, and unfortunately, that meant she was now faced with the reality that those stories were very much true. The trolls really did skin people alive. They really made their bodies look like strange omens hanging from the trees. Those weren’t rumors—they were true.

It made something in her quiver with fear to face that reality. Her husband, the one she couldn’t get away from even if she tried, had participated in those acts.

“Justify it,” she muttered to herself as she walked to the garden with Gunnar at her side.

“What did you say?” he asked, though he didn’t look at her.

None of them did these days. Ragnar was the only one who could look her in the eye, but he was rarely home. He wouldn’t even walk her to the garden, or explain how he had convinced the owner of said garden to let her onto the property. All he’d said was that he was busy. He didn’t have time to bring her, but she was going. Whether she wanted to or not.

“I didn’t say anything,” she replied.

At least Gunnar looked at her then. It was more of a glare, really, but at least he wasn’t pretending that she wasn’t standing right next to him. “Trolls have good hearing.”

“I know.”

“Then you know I heard what you said.”

“If you heard what I said, then why are you asking what I said?” Maia wrinkled her nose up at him. “It was an internal thought, Gunnar. One that shouldn’t have slipped out. Leave me to my thoughts, since you’re so determined to pretend I’m not here, anyway.”

“I’m just trying to make sure no one attacks us, woman. Good lord, do you always think the worst of people?”

“I don’t know. Do you blame me for the attack on your city?”

His expression became grim, and she knew the answer without him saying it. Some part of him blamed her. She could see it clear as day on his face as he turned his features away. He might not have wanted to admit it to her, but there was that ugly underbelly she’d been so good at pretending wasn’t here.

Blowing out a long, frustrated breath, she turned her attention back to the path. “I had nothing to do with it, you know.”

“You could be a spy.”

“Do you really think I’m a spy? You’ve traveled with me. Talked to me. You’ve even visited me in Ragnar’s home and given me advice. Just how good of a spy do you think I am?”

His gaze narrowed on her, as though he were trying to pick apart her thoughts just by looking at her. “A very good one, if you are a spy.”

Maia rolled her eyes, and then nearly stumbled on a stone that had yet to be moved. “Please. I would be a terrible spy, and you know it. Some warrior you are if you can’t see that I would crack under pressure.”

“I think you’re far more talented than you give yourself credit for,” he murmured, before pointing to the left. “We’re going that way. You’re going into the garden and you’re going to stay there all day. No other trolls will bother you there.”

“Why? Is there some kind of armed guard reminding people to go nowhere near me?” The words were said sarcastically. She wasn’t some famous princess who needed an entire armed guard to keep her safe. But Gunnar seemed to take her seriously.

His expression turned grave, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry, Maia. There will be no guards to keep you safe here, and it’s a shame that it has come to that for you to feel safe in our kingdom. However, there are very few who dare go into the gardens.”

“Why?” Her stomach churned with nerves. Was it dangerous to be in their gardens? What plants should she expect?

“Birger is the worst,” Gunnar muttered. “No one likes him, and he makes it very clear that he doesn’t like anyone at all. You’ll be lucky to leave this place with your pride intact.”

What was that supposed to mean? She barely had time to consider Gunnar’s words before he planted his hand against her back and pushed her onto a path that led deep into brightly colored plants and toward a light that was brighter than she’d seen thus far being in Trollveggen. It was so close to sunlight that Maia tilted her face back automatically, seeking out the warmth that was not there.

“Good luck,” Gunnar said before backing away.

“Why does it seem like you’re running?”

“Because I am. I don’t want him to see me.”

Another voice interrupted them, rough and raspy with age. “Gunnar! Is that you? I have a bone to pick with you, boy. Get your ass over here. The last time you came into my garden, those big feet of yours crushed a turnip!”

She swore Gunnar lost most of the green coloring in his face before he turned and rushed down the path. He was almost running, he moved so fast.

Maia had only a few seconds to whip around and find herself right in front of a very old troll who stood at least three feet taller than she did. He stared down at her, clearly unimpressed by the human who was in his garden. His mouth widened into something like a grimace, and then he snapped his jaws at her, biting the air just like the stray dog that used to live outside of her house. It was a warning, she knew. But she also knew that flinching away from a creature like that only made them believe they were the one in power.

So she stayed still. Looking at him with wide eyes, she took in the strangely yellow skin and the lack of tusks in his mouth. She’d thought perhaps he just had little ones, but on closer inspection, she realized there just weren’t any tusks there after all. Maybe he’d lost them.

The troll appeared rather perplexed that she didn’t flinch away from him. “You’re Maia?”

“I am.”

“I have no use for you. You can leave.” He turned around, disappearing into the brush.

Taking a deep breath, Maia told herself to be brave. This was her one chance. She understood why Ragnar wanted her to work here. If this surly old man thought she was all right, it was likely other trolls would think the same. She had to win this man over. If she could find her place here in this garden, maybe she could find her place within the greater Trollveggen. And even better to do so while surrounded by plants.

Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander. The scent of earth filled her lungs. Most people didn’t realize that dirt actually had a smell to it. They would think it was maybe a little bitter or acrid as it hit their nose, but she knew what the smells meant. The dirt under her feet was full of food for plants as they stretched their roots deep into the ground. They would feast upon all the goodness in the soil, and they would flourish with every ounce of sunlight and magic they were given.

The more she focused on the smell and the feeling of the garden, the more she swore she could sense those roots. Little sparks of bright green magic that dotted all through the ground around her. They called out to her, almost with a sound like laughter. Wiggling underneath her feet like excited little puppies, begging for a pet. They wanted her to notice them, to sprinkle some of her own magic onto their leaves and let them grow a little more.

She’d never been able to feel them like this before. Something happened here in Trollveggen that was so much more than the land above. Her garden had been kind, she knew that. Every single flower had recognized her as she’d walked the paths that she had created herself. But this was different. These plants almost felt like they wanted to know her.

Blinking her eyes open, she shrieked at the sight of a wrinkled, gnarled face far too close to her own. Stumbling backward, Maia cursed and pinwheeled her arms so she stumbled back down the path and not onto the rather impressive row of potatoes that she’d gotten a little too close to. Her foot caught on a root and sent her right down onto her bottom next to an impressive network of mole hills.

“No magic,” the troll snarled. “Not with my plants.”

“I wasn’t using magic!”

“You were. I could feel it. The plants were humming for you and I don’t like it.” He glared, and then bared his teeth where she could see there were two holes where his tusks should have been. “Get out of my garden before you mess it all up.”

“I’m not going to mess it up. And I really wasn’t using magic!”

He continued to glare until the expression on his face changed. He went from distrustful and angry to... curious? His brows furrowed and his gaze focused on her right wrist, which had sunk into the soft earth.

Maia looked at what he was staring at and caught sight of a root that had come out of the ground and tangled around her wrist. Then she heard it again. The hum that slowly focused in her mind into something that sounded like laughter. The more she stared at the root, the more she could pull it apart from all the other sounds around her.

The plants were laughing. They were giggling as the root wrapped around her wrist, gently stroking her skin like the plant was petting her.

“How are you doing that?” the troll asked.

“I’m not doing anything,” she whispered. “Can I lift my arm? Or will it hurt the plant?”

“That is a wood sorrel, and I’m sure it doesn’t appreciate you not calling it by name.” He crouched beside her, gently disentangling the roots that were trying to weave through her fingers like the sorrel was holding her hand. “Let go of her, now. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”

“Sorrel,” Maia tried out the name, watching as the roots froze the moment she did so. “That’s your name?”

“All plants have names if you listen to what they have to say.” He tsked and sank back onto his haunches. “You’ve done it now. She’s never going to let go.”

The roots had indeed tightened around her, holding onto her fingers and gripping her with clear excitement. And now that she’d thought of the emotion, she could hear it. The sorrel was babbling about something, but she couldn’t understand the words.

Furrowing her brow, Maia shook her head. “I can’t understand it.”

“You can hear it?”

“There’s something there. I could hear laughter when the roots first came out. But now... It’s like there are words, but I just can’t hear them. They’re so muffled.”

She looked up at the troll, who wasn’t looking at the plant. He was looking at her. His hand sunk into the ground beside hers, his fingers tangled with the roots just as much as her own. And there was something in his gaze that felt like she’d unlocked some part of him.

“I’ve never met anyone else who could hear them,” he murmured.

“There are plenty of trolls with green magic, I would assume.”

“There are. Lots of trolls can make plants grow, but none of them can speak to the plants. Why is it that you can?”

This didn’t feel right for him to believe. It wasn’t the entire truth. “I haven’t ever been able to hear them. Not until I came here. Back home, all I can do is make plants grow a little better. I don’t know what changed.”

His hand tightened on hers. Not painfully, just like he was trying to ease the fear that suddenly made her heart stutter in her chest. “Ah. So that’s how it is.”

With light movements, he untangled the sorrel from her wrist and then helped her stand. The troll even brushed the dirt off her bottom before standing her up on her own and grabbing onto her shoulders. “You’ll help me with the garden, lass. But if you make one mistake or crush one plant, I’m sending you home and you aren’t welcome back. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you.” Maia’s brows furrowed as he turned and started walking away from her. “But... I have questions.”

“Walk and talk.”

“Right.” She hurried to follow him down the path, making sure she stayed on the weaving pattern and didn’t step anywhere near the troll’s very precious plants. “Everyone is scared of you. Why?”

“I’m not nice.”

“But...”

He glared at her over his shoulder before deviating from the path. She could see he knew exactly where to step, like the plants themselves warned him when he got a little too close.

And she supposed maybe she could do that too. All she had to do was listen a little harder.

Picking through the garden, completely avoiding stepping on any of the very important plants, she felt a bit better about herself. The greenery let her know when she was getting too close. Their sing-song voices told her where to place her feet, and where it wouldn’t hurt them if she did so. Together, she wandered with the troll into an unkept portion of the garden. This place had no paths, no stones to step on, just a tangle of wilderness in the middle of the most untamed place she’d ever been.

“Do you know something about my magic that I don’t?” she finally asked.

“I know nothing about your magic. Magic is hard to know if it’s not yours.” The troll bent and plucked a small leaf before handing it to her. “What’s this?”

“Um.” There wasn’t anything particularly telling about the leaf. But when she rubbed it between her fingers, the soft texture gave her a small hint. Then there was the smell, like pepper. “Bee balm?”

“Monarda,” he corrected, obviously disgusted, before he then added, “But bee balm is another name for it.”

And off he went. Continuing through the garden, plucking some part of a plant, handing it to her, and demanding she tell him the name. She did so, over and over again, until he seemed somewhat satisfied with her performance.

“When trolls are joined, when we find our mates, our magic is mingled. You were given that gift by the Blood Witch. A true troll wife can use some of her husband’s magic, just as he can use some of hers. That’s why you can use this power now. He has strengthened you.”

“And that... changed your opinion of me? Somehow?”

He sniffed. “You’re not human. You’re a troll wife—that much I am certain of. So you can stay.”

The plants cheered, the sound of their happiness and mirth filling the clearing. The troll grumbled, heading away from her before he spun around again. He looked at her for a long time before finally saying, “You can call me Birger. But if you mess up my garden, I will throw you out on your ass like all the others.”

“Understood.”

Birger nodded, and then quietly added, “But I don’t think you’ll make the mistakes all the others did.”

It was a start. This old troll had no idea how much his words soothed the aching hurt in Maia’s soul.