Page 68 of A Darkness So Sweet

Finally, he could see the gardener. Birger’s face appeared from behind a massive green leaf with variegated holes in it. The troll used to have tusks, but they had been lost to the humans after he’d been caught the last time he’d gone above ground. It made his face a little different from the other trolls, and that had always set him apart. His skin was a strange pale yellow color as well, which many had whispered looked a little too human for their liking. That, along with his advanced age and many wrinkles, led many other trolls to feel uncomfortable around the old man.

Ragnar had never felt the same way. There were still claws on his hands and a ferocity in his eyes that no human could ever match. Birger was far closer to being an animal than any troll ever had any right to be as well. The old man growled regularly and snapped his jaws like he wanted to bite.

As he did now—snapping at Ragnar like interrupting him was the gravest deed.

“I have work to do,” Birger said. “We are not meant to see each other for a time yet.”

“No, we’re not. But I believe you need a helper around here, and I have someone who can help you.”

Birger’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to send that human into my garden. She’ll trample the garlic and feast upon the carrots long before they’re ready.”

Ah. So rumors had made it all the way out into the garden. Ragnar crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the old man. “Who told you about my troll wife?”

“Everyone’s talking about her.” Birger batted the leaf away from his head and marched down the path away from Ragnar. “You bring too much conflict wherever you go.”

“I don’t bring conflict anywhere. When was the last time I caused trouble for you?”

A coughed laugh trailed behind the old man. “Always! You brought your old lovers here when you were a youngster. You made the garden quake with fear every time you let out one of those loud moans. The plants still talk about the troll who marched into battle whenever he took a lover.”

Now that... that he was rather proud of.

With a wicked grin on his face, Ragnar followed the old man with the plan already falling from his lips. “She has green magic, just like you.”

“She doesn’t. Everyone says that girl has barely any magic at all. I won’t fall for this just because you want to foist her onto someone else. Didn’t the king tell you to get rid of her?”

Damn it, the old man was far too smart for his own good. He’d seen right through Ragnar’s plan.

He trailed Birger to his cottage. Smoke coiled out of the small stone chimney, and ivy grew on every surface it could cling to. Ragnar remembered being able to see some stone at least, but not a single gray speck was visible beyond the plants now. Even the ancient wooden door was nearly covered as Birger pushed it open and strode into his cottage.

Well, he would not wait for an invitation. The old man needed to listen to him.

Ragnar followed him right into the home uninvited, not caring if he got an earful. But Birger didn’t yell at him. Instead, the old man limped over to his chair and sank into the cushion before the fireplace.

The fire blew off a lot of heat, but it was still chilly inside the cottage. Even Ragnar felt the hairs on his arms rise as he strode toward the matching patchwork chair that was right in front of the flames. He sank down onto it, noting that there was no longer a plush rug beneath his feet. In fact, most of this cottage appeared emptier than he remembered. Even the bed in the corner was smaller, now more like a cot.

“Are you moving?” he asked, frowning as he peered at the other details. There used to be herbs hanging in that corner, drying for the chefs that were dotted around Trollveggen, but now those were gone too.

“No. I’m not moving.”

Hadn’t there been a painting on that wall? It had been a picture of Birger’s late wife and his girls, all of whom were now married and no longer lived with him. “Where are all your things?”

“I’m getting rid of a lot. I can feel my time is coming to an end soon, and I would like the right people to have them.”

“Birger. I would tell you if your time was coming soon,” Ragnar replied with a chuckle. But just in case, he reached from his chair to put his hand on the old man’s.

He’d always been able to feel when a troll’s body was starting to fade. If they didn’t die in battle, it was rather easy to tell when they were going to leave this realm. Their magic was what kept them alive. Once it began fading in their bodies, they were likely to leave their families soon.

Birger’s magic was still strong, still full of power and green magic that tasted like basil the moment Ragnar prodded at it with his own.

The old man was just fine. So at least Ragnar could lean back in his chair with a little more relief.

“I need you to take her on.”

“Absolutely not.”

“As a favor to me.”

“I have no interest in having someone hanging around my garden and touching all my plants. She’ll make a mess of the entire garden, and I’m too old to be fixing other people’s mistakes.”

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