Huldrua led them through a narrow entrance hall and then down a smaller, twisting hallway into a simple, circular room with two raised stone ledges fitted with woven fiber mats. A small, naturally glowing fissure in the wall provided dim, warm light. The room did not appear to have a door—the only privacy it afforded was a couple of sharp twists in the short hallway they'd just walked through, which shielded it from the main cavern.
"I hope the accommodation will be to your satisfaction," said Huldrua. "Please let me know if there's anything else you need for your stay."
"Thank you for your hospitality," Emily said, keeping her voice even and cordial, even as her hands sweated from prolonged contact with her skin. "We would really appreciate it if you could organize some clothes for us. Something simple? Even a sheet?"
Huldrua frowned. "Fimbur told me about your penance. Those poor hares. Lovely, delicate creatures they are." She looked Sigrid and Emily up and down. "Consider yourselves lucky. There would have been harsher penance in my day."
Not only had their hostess given them a room without a door, but she was refusing them clothes. Emily found herself unsure how to respond. "That's, um, well... we're very sorry of course. But we wouldn't want to offend anyone. Or, well, you know it's hardly sanitary—"
"Nonsense!" Huldrua replied. "Fimbur told me he'd announced your penance on the way here. The whole village is well aware of the circumstances and certainly won't be offended. What would be offensive would be if you tried to get out of your penance."
"But we're naked!" Sigrid burst out, her voice cracking. "And everyone's staring at us!"
"That is part of the penance," Huldrua said. "But I think you'd get the same stares whatever you wore or didn't wear. We do not see many humans in this part of Thessolan. You're much taller than I expected. Even I am curious... do you shave your faces? That's probably why Fimbur took a shine to you. He convinced his wife to shave once. It was all anyone talked about until her beard grew back!"
Emily stopped herself from making a face. Even with Huldrua right in front of her, she was still having trouble accepting the idea of dwarven women having beards. "Human women don't grow beards," she said. "Well not most of us, anyway. And if you do you end up working at the circus."
"Fascinating," Huldrua said, stroking her beard. "I could never shave mine! But enough chit-chat, I've got broth on the boil!" With a curt nod, Huldrua turned around and walked out of the chamber.
Emily placed two fingers on the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for a moment. Public nudity as a penance for not freezing to death in the snow. It was just her luck.
"A fine mess you've gotten us into," Sigrid said, glaring at Emily.
"Me? How is this my fault?"
"You stripped me!" Sigrid spat. "With your bloody rock magic!"
"I stripped myself too! And anyway, what choice did we have?"
"We had plenty of choices." Sigrid made a few aggressive swiping motions with her axe.
Emily raised an eyebrow. "Oh, of course, we should have attacked the well-armed dwarves who outnumbered us six to one on their home turf, unprovoked. Why didn't I think of that wonderful idea?"
"It would have been more dignified," Sigrid growled.
Emily glanced down at her naked body, considering Sigrid's words. Could they really have taken the dwarves? Perhaps, but that wasn't how Emily operated. "There's nothing dignified about unnecessary violence," Emily said. "I... don't agree with the dwarves reaction to our outfits, but it wasn't worth killing over."
"So we should parade ourselves for them instead," Sigrid retorted. "Did you see the expression on Fimbur's face? He was loving it, the little perv!" She sank onto one of the ledges with a groan, burying her face in her hands. "I've faced ice wyrms, battled frost giants, and wrestled snow trolls in their lairs," she mumbled into her palms. "But this is pure torture."
Emily sat on the other ledge, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Just go along with their customs, and we'll get to see the dragon. That's what we came for."
"You mean the dragon will get to see us," Sigrid retorted, sighing dramatically. "A memorial service. For hares. Tomorrow. Naked. Truly, this is the strangest quest I have yet undertaken."
Emily smiled sympathetically. "I had to attend a merfolk gala naked, once."
Sigrid did a double-take. "You were naked for that? You didn't mention that before."
"I may have... left some of the more embarrassing details out of my stories," Emily replied, blushing deeply.
Sigrid's eyes narrowed. "How many other times have you had... these kinds of experiences?"
Emily cast her mind back and began counting on her fingers. "Um, a lot," she said. "I was actually in the middle of a bath when I arrived in that stone chamber in Castle Elid. And there was nothing to wear in that whole place! I didn't really get any proper clothes until I got to the pirate ship. Well, unless you count the cursed mind-controlling outfit Elara gave me. But that was worse than nudity!"
Sigrid's eyes widened. "I did not expect the bundled-up firemage I met in Eyri Abbey to have this kind of backstory. Thought you were a prude."
"I am!" Emily said. "Just a really unlucky one..."
Just then, Huldrua returned two rough-hewn stone bowls, filled with steaming broth. "Lichen broth, seasoned with crystal-salt," she said, passing a bowl to each of them.
Emily didn't relish the idea of eating either lichen or crystal-salt, but the broth smelled delicious and was delightfully savory. The rich flavor was almost overwhelming after nearly a week of bland, chewy cold-hare meat. Sigrid wolfed hers down greedily and immediately asked Huldrua for seconds, the food almost taking her mind off her nudity.
"Of course!" Huldrua boomed, taking her bowl. "I love to see a guest appreciating my food!"
Following the meal, of which Sigrid ultimately ate four portions, the women turned in for the night, laying atop the firmly fitted fibre mats on the stone ledges. Blankets had not been provided, but the room was very warm.
"I guess," Sigrid yawned, "I guess if a prude like you can get used to this, maybe it's not so bad." Her curled-up posture contradicted this sentiment.
"Glad to be an... inspiration," Emily replied, not sure she actually was glad. She lay on her back, hair piled atop her breasts and both hands resting over her crotch. The mat was surprisingly comfortable.
"I don't know how I'm going to sleep like this," Sigrid growled, tightening her grip on her axe. "Lightly, I s'pose, and ready to chop up any dwarf that tries to sneak in here."
Emily questioned the wisdom of sleeping with an axe as one might with a teddy bear, but decided not to voice her criticisms. She still felt back about slicing off Sigrid's clothing earlier, as much as it had been the only rational choice. And the idea of Sigrid defending their dignity with Grognak was not an unwelcome one, just then.
Sleep came quickly, despite everything, perhaps due to the cavern's soothing warmth, and was long, deep and dreamless. Far from being too hot, the warmth of the cavern seemed to be just the right temperature for the two humans to sleep without blankets.
Eventually, the sounds of dwarven voices, footfalls and clanging tools indicated that dawn had arrived. Emily opened her eyes and stared up at the rough stone ceiling, highly conscious of the warm air against her skin.
Tomorrow, she realized, was the summer solstice. Her friends at Paja Abbey would be preparing for the ritual and anxiously awaiting her return with the Heartflame. This realization only heightened her anxiety.
Sigrid was already awake, sitting up on her slab and staring intently at the cave entrance, axe in hand.
A series of light, quick footfalls echoed down the hallway, and Emily had to jump to her feet to stop Sigrid from attacking the dwarf who now appeared at the entrance.
"Good morning, fair guests!" Fimbur chirped, his eyes as wide as saucers as he took in the sight of two tall, naked human women wrestling an axe. "The Rites of Passage for the Blessed Cold Hares will commence shortly in the Great Plaza! It is a most auspicious occasion! All of the village will be in attendance!"
Emily released the axe and snapped into as modest a stance as she could muster, her arms returning to the posts they'd attended throughout most of the last day. Sigrid hugged Grognak to her body, glowering.
"The whole village..." Emily repeated, slipping her feet into her sandals. "Great. Just great."
Walking through the village was no less mortifying than the previous day. The dwarves were already gathering in the central plaza—a large, open space underneath an enormous glowing fissure that lit the space almost as well as if it were above ground. Most of the dwarves turned to look at Emily and Sigrid as they walked by, pointing and whispering to each other in low voices.
Fimbur led them to a slightly raised platform near the center of the plaza, indicating they should stand there. "For our penitent guests of honor," he explained.
Hundreds of amber eyes bore down on them, and Emily wished, not for the first time, that her hair was long enough to cover her butt—though she had not trimmed it since her arrival in Castle Elid, it still had a long way to go. She kept her gaze fixed in front of her, above the dwarves' eye level, her expression as neutral as she could make it. Beside her, Sigrid wore a permanent scowl, her jaw set, her knuckles white where she gripped her axe.
What made the whole thing worse was this raised platform stood exactly in line with another platform at the edge of the plaza, upon which Emily and Sigrid's cold hareskin outfits were lovingly arrayed. Emily had half a mind to make a dash for them, and could see that Sigrid was even more keen on the idea. She gave Sigrid a stern look, receiving a pout in return. Emily knew that Sigrid blamed her for their current predicament and wasn't exactly wrong to do so.
The ceremony began. Hodor, the orange-bearded leader, strode forward and took up a place next to the hareskins, bowing respectfully to them before turning to face the plaza. Silence fell over the assembled masses.
"Friends, clansmen, penitent guests," he began, casting a sharp look at Emily and Sigrid. "We are gathered here today to honor the lives of our fellow beings, and to mourn the tragedy of their vicious end."
Sigrid muttered something incoherent. Emily shushed her.
Unperturbed, Hodor continued his speech, his voice loud and resonant, echoing across the great plaza. He spoke of the interconnectedness of all life, of the special place nature provided for the cold hare, of the beauty of the songs they sang, and the grace of their movements.
"Their brief lives, though cruelly cut short," he continued, eliciting a grunt from Sigrid, "now contribute to the Great Cycle of All Things! Nothing dies! Nothing ends!"
Hodor waxed rhapsodic about the beauty and value of all life, quoting liberally from the sayings of Ignis Draken. He spoke with such conviction and heartfelt feeling that Emily felt a pang of guilt for wearing the hares' pelts as she had done. At the start of the ceremony, she had longed to wear the pelts again. Now, she felt that to do so would be akin to coating herself in the hares' blood.
Sigrid, Emily noticed, was also affected, though she tried to hide it. Her stony expression had softened, and her eyes were just a little bit watery. Emily couldn't help but smile at her companion's sentimental side.
Finally, Hodor's speech drew to a close. "The cold hares have joined the Cycle, as we all will. They go before us and we thank them for preparing the way. Nothing dies! Nothing ends!"
"Nothing dies! Nothing ends," the other dwarves chanted, their low, sonorous tones causing the rocks around them to vibrate. Across the plaza, all eyes were closed, and the chants slowly degenerated into a unified, hypnotic hum that made it impossible to think of anything else. For a time, Emily forgot her self-consciousness and felt herself swept away, caught up in the ritual.
But this was not to last. The hum quietened and then died away, and as Emily returned to herself, she felt the eyes of Hodor fall upon her and Sigrid. "Nothing dies and nothing ends, but the hares' time on this plain was unnaturally shortened by these surface dwellers, the selfsame ones who now seek an audience with Ignis Draken."
Shocked gasps broke out across the crowd, but were quickly muffled out of respect for the solemnity of the occasion. The attention of the entire plaza was now riveted on Emily and Sigrid, standing on the raised platform with only their arms to slightly, inadequately obscure their naked bodies.
"Let the appointed representative of the surface dwellers now come forward to speak her piece to the mortal remains."
Emily and Sigrid exchanged glances, and Emily knew at once that she was the appointed representative. "You got us into this mess," Sigrid seemed to say, using only her eyes. Glancing to her other side, Emily received an encouraging nod from Fimbur.
Taking a deep breath, Emily stepped off the raised platform and walked on shaking legs to the front of the plaza. Feeling eyes drilling into her back and rear, she tried to lessen the natural sway of her hips. How many times had she been in situations like this? When would it start to get easier? Apparently not yet.
Hodor stepped aside as she approached, motioning for her to take his place beside the table on which the hareskins lay. She turned to face the audience, gulping deeply.
"Place a hand on the hares," Hodor ordered under his breath.
Disobeying Hodor was not an option. Biting her lip, Emily removed a shaking arm from her breasts and reached for the hareskins. Their skin and what remained of their white fur was soft to the touch, and Emily wished more than anything that she could be wearing it again, right now, as the whole Klagstone Clan stared at her bare breasts.
Without warning, Hodor grabbed the wrist of her other hand and pulled it away from her crotch. "Stand respectfully," he growled.
And so Emily stood respectfully, fully exposed to whole plaza. She took a sharp intake of breath, resisting the urge to cover herself again. Since arriving in Thessolan, she had been inappropriately naked in more situations than she cared to count, but each one came with its own horrors. For this one, it was the vast sea of orange beards and beady eyes, so much more numerous than the monks, so much more human than the merfolk, focusing intently on her, waiting for her to speak. That perennial piece of public speaking advice, "imagine the audience naked," flitted briefly, ironically through her mind.
The silence was becoming deafening. She had to speak, to begin so that she could get this over with. "Umm," she began, her voice a mere squeak. She cleared her throat, smiled at the assembled dwarves, and tried again. "Elder Hodor... members of the Klagstone Clan... ladies and, uh, gentle... dwarves."
Her mind raced in search of her next words. All she had to do, she told herself, was give a speech that would convince the dwarves she and Sigrid were truly sorry for killing the cold-hares, and that they were worthy of seeing the stone dragon and taking the Heartflame. With no preparation. Naked.
She glanced down at the hareskins, and tried to imagine them as cute, frolicking bunnies rather than skimpy but much-missed garments. She thought of Hodor's words, all of his talk about their spirits and the eternal cycle.
"We," she began, then thought better of it. "Um... I... I didn't understand. I—we, we were cold and naked, in the Wastes, and we needed food and shelter. Coverings against the wind and snow. We... we respected the hares. Their bodies ensured our survival. My companion, Sigrid Wyrmtamer, she always, uh, says a prayer, uh, before she kills, and she hunts only out of necessity."
Sigrid frowned but said nothing. Emily grinned uneasily at her.
"We are forever in the debt of these beautiful animals," Emily continued. "They died that we might live and that the eternal cycle might continue! We carry their memories, and know that in some way, they live on through us!"
The dwarves said nothing. Emily was beginning to worry that this line of argument had been the wrong one to choose. In the back of her mind, she was already calculating which parts of the plaza might be most amenable to Bronzeband manipulation.
"I am truly sorry that I cannot offer more than this!" Emily exclaimed, extending her arms out in front of her, gesticulating passionately. "Perhaps there was a better way for us to survive in the frozen Cinder Wastes. Perhaps, had we known the great wisdom of Ignis Draken, we would have found another way that did not require the lamentable sacrifice of these fine animals."
It may have been her imagination, but Emily thought she saw the twitching beginnings of a smile appear at the corner of Hodor's mouth. She continued, cheeks burning. "Please believe me that we are truly penitent, t-truly humbled, as we stand n-naked before you all! Allow us to stand also before Ignis Draken so that we might learn from his great wisdom, and mend our wicked ways!"
Dwarves throughout the plaza were now whispering to each other and nodding their heads.
Emily smiled. "Nothing dies! Nothing ends!" she shouted, ending her speech with a deep bow.
After a long silence, Hodor addressed her. "Thank you, surface-dweller," he said. "Your words are clumsy, but the feeling behind them is genuine. We will allow you and your companion to see Ignis Draken."
Relief washed over Emily. She glanced at Sigrid, who looked genuinely surprised that Emily's speech had worked. She gave her a smug grin before turning back to Hodor. "Thank you, Elder," she said, bowing again.
"But first, we must complete the ceremony," Hodor added. "Take up the hares and bring them to their final resting place."
The final part of the ceremony consisted of Emily walking with Hodor, Sigrid, and a few other dwarves, through a winding tunnel, the hareskins draped over her forearms. The procession walked slowly, the dwarves carrying a long, low hum.
At the end of the winding tunnel was a sheer cliff. Far below, a stream of bright orange lava flowed and bubbled. Though the lava was far below them, it eminated such a powerful heat that Emily felt like she would sustain burns if she got any closer to the edge.
After a few ceremonial words in a language neither Emily nor Sigrid recognized, Hodor instructed Emily to throw the hareskins into the lava. This, apparently, was the fire dwarf version of burial.
Emily exchanged a glance with Sigrid, silently apologizing to her. Then, with a pang of regret, she flung their only clothing off the cliff and into the lava below, where it swiftly disappeared beneath the orange flow.