Page 83 of A Light So Blinding
“This is...” She tried to find the words, but was a little ashamed to admit she couldn’t.
Bjorn was staring at it as well. Feasting his eyes on what he had lost for so many years. Then she felt like an ass, because of course he was staring at it. He hadn’t been back here in such a long time, and maybe he’d thought he never would.
“Are you all right?” she asked, eyeing him.
He nodded slowly. “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not really an answer.”
“It’s just...” He gestured out at what they both were staring at. “It’s the same as it always was, bright one. Not a single bit of it has changed, and here I am. A fragment of the man I was before I left.”
She couldn’t tell him that he was the same person. She hadn’t known him back then. Besides, it didn’t seem like that was what he wanted to hear from her. He wanted to get moving, and that was the best she could offer as well.
Bjorn found a rope that had been tied to the wall, anchored by heavy iron bolts, and then had her hold on to the side of his neck. Together, they descended into the mountain and headed off down the streets.
They were mostly empty, so she had to assume it was very early for the trolls. But she was able to stare at houses this way. They were so modern. The exteriors of the homes were madewith impressive wooden beams, and delicate attention to details like small curved siding and matching rivets that held everything together. The windows were perfect, something she rarely saw in her own kingdom, and the lights outside were mostly will-o'-the-wisps. Although some appeared to be oil lamps, though they were unlike any she’d seen before.
Then there was the castle itself, which was built into the roots of a massive tree that loomed above the entire kingdom. Calling it a tree didn’t even seem appropriate. It was a giant that was nearly as big as the mountain.
Together, they walked up the steps that were woven throughout the massive roots, and then she was entering a troll castle.
How strange it was. Astrid couldn’t help but compare this place with the human castle where she had spent so much time. It was easy to confuse them. The clean floors, the chandeliers from the ceiling, but this one had many more antlers and furs, and all the other natural elements that made it stand out from the one she was so used to.
Not to mention the trolls. They must’ve been nobility, considering they were all dripping in jewels. One of the men who walked by was so heavily pierced and wearing so many necklaces and bracelets that she was shocked he could move at all. The trolls came in so many colors. There were bright yellows, blues, purples, every color she could have imagined and yet had never dreamt of as a skin tone.
Bjorn strode past them with his head held high. She watched the others as they walked past, and the eyes that followed them. So many people here stared at him, then whispered the same word over and over again.
Soon enough, she realized it was his name. They said it with heavy accents, some of them still speaking in the black tongue.
News of his escape hadn’t reached this far yet, she guessed. Or their king had planned for a grand entrance.
Exactly like they were doing now.
Bjorn led her through the entire hall, all the way to the back of the castle. He pushed the twin heavy doors open and revealed not a throne room, like she had expected, but a room with a long table covered in maps, and about twenty trolls sitting all around it.
These were the kind of trolls she had expected. Warlords with scars that decorated their features. A few of them had horns like Bjorn. Others were dusted in feathers. One man was even missing an eye, which she tried very hard not to stare at.
She had underestimated what it would feel like to not have the face covering over her features. Even with just her eyes visible at times, it had always helped hide her from the stares of so many people. It didn’t matter when it was peasants or the working class, but these were people with means. People who knew what it took to look at her expression and know exactly what was going on in her head.
But she was a priestess. She had trained her entire life to do this, and so she would.
Astrid lifted her chin and strode all the way to the end of the table with Bjorn at her side. The hulking behemoth at the end, with his useless wings draped over the back of his chair, could be none other than King Egil himself.
She dropped into a deep curtsy the moment they neared his chair. “Your majesty. I received your letter.”
A deep, booming laugh erupted from his chest. “Aye, so it seems.”
“As requested, I brought you the troll from the labyrinth that you wished to see freed.” She risked a glance up at the man whose mottled gray skin looked more like stone than flesh. “I believe the deal was for my sister’s well-being.”
The king gestured to his right, seemingly bored with how she addressed him. “Yes. Humans are always so persistent when it comes to getting what they want. Your sister is fine. But I thank you for bringing back my destroyer.”
The words stuck in her head. Bjorn wasn’t a warlord, or a destroyer, or anything like his father. He was a kind, soft man who wished for a kind, soft life. But then her eyes flicked in the direction the king had gestured, and her whole world rolled to a stop.
Seated on the other side of a massive green troll was a woman with bright blonde hair. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she was painfully thin. But even from this distance, Astrid could see that her eyes were their mother’s eyes. Such a light blue that they were almost gray. Haunted eyes, people used to say.
Now she understood what they meant.
“Rose?” she whispered. It felt like the word was so loud. Perhaps because the entire room had suddenly gone silent.
