Waking in the dwarven city was unsettling and strange, because the light was no different from when Theo had finally fallen asleep.

  “Good, you’re awake,” Freya said from above.

  Theo peered up at her through sleepy eyes, feeling groggy and hardly more rested than he had been when he lay down.

  “Time to go already?” Theo asked, stretching his arms above his head, making his back pop.

  “Unless you’d like to stay here and study dwarven culture while the dragons attack the villages of your kingdom?” Freya asked.

  Theo made a face at her. “You could just tell me ‘yes’. It’s a lot fewer words.”

  “But not as much fun.”

  Theo ran a hand through his hair. He felt grimy and in serious need of a bath after a whole day of riding, but he suspected Freya would have a good, long laugh if he asked for it. He would have to get used to smelling of horses and sweat. Yum.

  “Here,” Freya said, throwing a small package at him. “Breakfast, courtesy of Bruni.”

  “He’s been here?” Theo asked.

  Freya smiled at him. “Yes. He wondered if all humans sleep the day away.”

  “How do you even know if it’s day or night in here?” Theo asked, exasperation creeping into his voice.

  Freya snorted. “They do have clocks.”

  Theo unwrapped the cloth, revealing a hearty breakfast of crumbly oat bread—a delicious scent wafted from it and Theo wanted to ask for the recipe—and a thick slice of smoked cheese, as well as a small, wax-sealed jar of wild berry jam. Since he lacked utensils, he slathered the jam onto the bread with his fingers and then added the cheese before biting into it.

  It turned out it was delicious.

  “This is really good,” he said to Freya. “Did you try the bread?”

  She glanced down at him from where she was readying the horses. “Please don’t start waxing poetic about the bread.”

  Theo glared at her, though with his mouth full of deliciousness, he found it impossible to be very irritated. “I don’t always do that.”

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  “Not always,” Freya said. “But often.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with appreciating food,” Theo said. “Baked goods, in particular.”

  Each bite was like a comforting warmth in his mouth, and far better than anything he would have expected the grumpy dwarves to make.

  Well, he had really only met one grumpy dwarf so far. The other two with Bruni had never said anything, and no one in Silvershard had spoken to him.

  As he swallowed the last bite, the dwarf in question showed up.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  It was a good thing the last bite was halfway down to his stomach already, or Theo would have choked on it. “What?”

  Bruni looked down at him. He wore the same leather outfit as the day before, but he may have brushed his beard some, because it wasn’t as messy. Or perhaps Theo was just getting used to it. On his arms, Theo noted thick, black tattoos.

  “I’m—coming—with—you,” Bruni said slowly, as if Theo was really a moron who had trouble understanding spoken language.

  Theo got up from the ground, unwilling to be at a height disadvantage to a dwarf. “Yes, I heard what you said.”

  “Then why did you ask?” Bruni said, shrugging.

  “Because—why?”

  “That’s bad grammar,” Bruni said.

  “He’s often bad at grammar,” Freya quipped from where she was getting the horses ready.

  “No surprise there,” the dwarf said.

  Theo forced out through gritted teeth, “Why are you coming with us?”

  Bruni still looked like he thought Theo was dumb. “Because dwarves I care about are ill and I need to find a cure.”

  “Fine,” Theo said. “So you’re coming with us.”

  “Finally with the program,” Bruni said. His gaze fell on the sheath at Theo’s side, and his expression darkened. “What is someone like you doing with a dwarven sword like that?”

  Theo looked down at the sword hilt sticking up from the sheath, then frowned up at Bruni. “What do you mean, ‘someone like me’?”

  Bruni glared at him. “Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

  Theo scowled. “My father gave it to me, all right?”

  “That must be some rich merchant,” Bruni said, eyes narrowing.

  “Is it important somehow?”

  Bruni glared at him. “Of course not. It’s just a dwarven sword.”

  Theo looked at him. “Then what are you so upset about?”

  “You best take care of it,” Bruni said.

  “Yeah,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I’ll take care of it.” Not that he had any idea of how, but he was not going to admit that to the dwarf.

  “Right,” Bruni said and then added a muttered, “Wasted on a moron.”

  Theo didn’t even have the energy to snap back—all that would earn him was another earful about his stupidity. He sighed. “Thanks for breakfast, anyway. The crumble bread was delicious, and I especially liked the crunchy walnuts with that hint of honey.”

  He didn’t wait around to see what scathing response Bruni would give to that—like everyone else, surely the dwarf would make fun of him appreciating bread to the extent that he did. Instead, he took Brioche’s reins from Freya, and petted the horse’s neck. Brioche snorted back at him.

  “Waxing poetic,” Freya muttered.

  “Oh, shut up,” Theo grumbled. “I’m trying to be nice, at least. That’s more than you can say about him.”

  Freya snorted softly. Theo noted that she did not look displeased about the idea of Bruni coming with them. Did she trust the dwarf? Did she like him? Perhaps she, with her sarcasm and quick bite, found him better company than Theo—and that thought hurt a surprising amount. Theo knew he wasn’t the most interesting person, nor was he eloquent or funny, but despite the long ride of the day before, he had enjoyed the time with Freya.

  With Bruni there too, it would be a lonelier journey for Theo, that was for sure.