Page 68 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

Ari pinched his lips together but didn’t argue. “We’ll talk about all this later. Right now, we need to get out of this bleeding troll burrow.”

“A troll burrow?” I scanned the rough walls, the sharp turns in the tunnel. There were a few torches rammed in the dirt, lighting the way. This tunnel was intentional.

“The claw marks,” Ari said, drifting his fingers over a few gashes in the clay walls. “Trolls are scavengers and hide their treasures underground.”

Ari reached for one of the torches against the tunnel mouth. The shape was roughly cut, a little jagged and narrow in some places, but at least tall enough we didn’t need to crouch too low.

“How deep does it go, do you think?” I whispered. We’d walked in silence too long and the weakness in my legs from the poison and the fight with the sluagh was showing. Each step required all my attention, all my focus, to merely keep myself upright.

“Could go on for lengths. Troll folk are known for their intricate tunnels.” Ari glanced over his shoulder at me. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine.”

With an irritating grin, the ambassador smirked at Elise. Even more irritating was the way she smirked back.

“We’ll stop for rest at this bend up here.”

“I don’t need—”

“Malin,” Elise interrupted. “You were poisoned, and you’re walking as if you only learned how yesterday. We will rest.”

To be the weakest partner was aggravating. I cursed my legs, cursed Ivar for his wretched poisons. I cursed the distance between me and Kase. The bond between us did not burn with any danger or pain, and I had to trust the Alver vow would let him know I was not lost to the Otherworld either.

Still, it did not soothe the need to have the warmth of him beneath my fingertips.

“Are you still convinced your raven led you here to be trapped, Ari?” Elise said, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes. It is a cursed bird and likely saved us from the sluagh to entomb us and watch us die a slow death.”

“Gods.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. After such chaos, then to fall into such dark quiet, nerves were claiming my thoughts with a cruel ferocity.

“No,” Ari said quickly, a false smile on his mouth. “We’ll be fine. I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly. The bird brings out the still very attractive, but more broody side of me. I swear to you, we’ll get free, Malin. And let us look at the bright side—we are trapped, but at least safe from any more hunting creatures,” Ari said. “Trolls are notorious for keeping their tunnels blocked against any other fae.”

“But we are in here.”

“And it is uncommon. I suspect it is because our magic is not the glamour of the South. Trolls collect unique magical objects. To a Southern troll, we are unique. I have fury, you have your memory magic, and Elise . . . well, I don’t know how Elise was not warded from entering.”

I shrugged and took the lead. “Unless her child is Night Folk fae.”

Ari hesitated for a moment, then barked a laugh. “Three hells, you’re probably right.” He gave Elise a soft smile. “Must be a powerful little one to get you through the troll gates.”

A touch of pride filled the queen’s eyes as we rounded the bend.

I stepped into the wider cavern, secretly ecstatic to find rest, but I stopped abruptly. “Ari, there is a door here.”

Ari appeared, torch in hand, at my side. Before us in the small space was a crooked door blocking an off-shoot tunnel.

“What is this?” Ari said to himself, one palm on the door.

“Ari?” A rough voice came from behind the door. The sound was parched, as if whoever spoke had not wetted their tongue in days. “Is that you?”

Ari’s brow furrowed. He drew his blade and stepped to the door. “Who’s there?”

Feet shuffled, a few grunts and murmurs came from behind the door.

“Ambassador Ari?” The voice was stronger. “Tell me this isn’t a mimic.”

“By the hells.” Ari pressed a palm against the latch on the door. He jiggled the iron. “Sofia? Is that you?”