Imber

by Tyffany Hackett

  “We can’t stay here.” The collective flinch told me the other three already knew that. “Did the statue do anything? When I touched it?”

  Meryn pointed at the angel, and I sat up, blinking rapidly at the low wave of pain that rushed through me. Sure enough, the angel had slid backward to reveal what seemed to be a deep staircase. Subtle hints of blue flame flickered against the wall—a torch, I assumed, and likely an arcane one if the color of the light was any indication.

  “There’s a few sets of footprints going in,” she said softly. “Someone’s been here already and likely recently.”

  “We have to take our chances, I suppose. I don’t think we have much choice. We can’t stay out here after nightfall, and I’m fairly sure this is where we need to be.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Jyn said tersely.

  “Don’t we?” Meryn snapped. “What lives in this graveyard is far worse than what’s out in the forest. I can feel them. Creatures that creep at the edges and wait for the night so they can take form. You’ll be distracted with her injury, and she needs at least a night’s rest before she tries to fight anything. We have to go in for the night.”

  “Fine, but we sleep in shifts. I’ll take watch first,” Jyn said.

  He stalked a few feet away to grab the packs and Meryn, with a roll of her eyes, followed him. Camion stood for a moment and watched them before he moved to kneel beside me.

  “I’m so sorry Tyli, I should have—” He swallowed. “I could have—”

  “You all told me not to,” I interrupted. “This is my own fault. I couldn’t see a choice, and I wasn’t going to give up so easily. Don’t blame yourself. How bad is the wound?”

  “Wide, but shallow. You might have a concussion.” He winced. “Jyn had to hold your hair aside so I could clean off the blood and Meryn could pack the poultice.”

  “I was out so long?”

  “Minutes, at most. We tried to work quickly.”

  I shifted slightly. Attempts at movement were agony. I ran my fingertips across the bandage. My forehead was wrapped, and the linen ran around the crown of my skull as well. I could feel the bulge of the poultice, slightly closer to my left. The bandage was dry though, I wasn’t bleeding through—a good sign.

  I tried to stand, using my hands as leverage, and groaned loudly when my vision fractured into a painful starburst. A battering ram hammered against my skull, but I pushed myself and straightened up before my knees buckled from the pain. Camion was faster. He looped an arm around my waist before I could hit the ground.

  “Let me help you. Come on, it’s only fair.” He smirked. I braced my arm around his shoulders to balance my weight, cautious of putting too much pressure onto him. I didn’t want to hurt him. Two shadows moved to my right, and I whipped my head around. I winced hard, too much too fast, but Jyn shook his head.

  “You drop her, and she won’t be the only one with a head injury,” he growled. He wouldn’t meet my eyes though, and I stared at the streaks on his cheeks again. I looked up at Camion.

  “I’m not very steady. I could hurt you,” I said warmly. “Help Meryn with the packs?”

  Camion met my eyes for a moment. I couldn’t read his thoughts. Still a mystery, this one. Then he looked up at Jyn. “Here, give me the packs. She’s right, she’s not very steady, a sudden shift in weight could tear my side back open.”

  Jyn’s head tilted, eyes narrowing, but he nodded. I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder for a moment.

  “Go easy on him, Jyn,” I whispered. “Neither of you did this to me, and he certainly doesn’t blame you. You know this is my fault.”

  “I know . . . I’m sorry.” He was sincere. I could see the guilt in his eyes—and the worry. Typical of Jyn, to react with his temper instead of his head.

  “Besides, I’m mostly fine. Unsteady but I’m sure that will improve after a night’s rest.” I paused. “And I’m tired. I’m so tired.”

  Jyn’s grip tightened around me. Meryn grasped Camion’s arm in reassurance, but I couldn’t decide which of them she was trying to comfort. We followed the pair down the stairs—Jyn and I didn’t want to pass under before them in case my entrance closed the angel. Sure enough, as soon as my head was below the flat base the statue slid closed. An ominous rumble boomed through the cramped space when the angel locked back into place. My companions exchanged a glance. I would have to touch the marble again for us to get out.

  The stairs were stone, old and slightly crumbled. I stumbled over them and almost fell, but I was further grateful that Jyn was helping me. My failings would have staggered Camion.

  My nose filled with the scent of mildew, and I gagged. The odor was overpowering. Yet, when we broke the landing, I could have fallen to my knees in relief. Three days ago was the last time I’d seen water, the stream we’d found by the small clearing. Here, in this tiny little stone room, was an entire pool of sparkling crystal clear water. One of the exits to the room had caved in at some point and water trickled in from above, down the stones of the collapse. The flow had eroded the dirt floor into a basin and now—I wanted a bath.

  Meryn had ways to test the water’s purity, and she set to work while Camion scouted the exits. There were three—one to the left, though that was the one that had caved in, the one we’d come through, and one to the right. The latter went a few dozen feet before turning sharply left. Camion didn’t dare go further quite yet, but at least we knew that was the entrance to watch.

  Jyn lowered me next to the pool. He went to unpack our clothes so we could wash or sleep on them. We only waited a few minutes before Meryn looked up. She shook her head. “I can’t find anything wrong with this water. Natylia, can you run your hands through this?”

  There was a loud unanimous “no” from Jyn and Camion, but I reached out and scooped the clear liquid into my palms. Jyn’s eyes flashed in fury, but he relaxed when nothing happened.

  “See, fine,” I said softly.

  Camion scowled. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

  I ignored them both and leaned to help Meryn fill the waterskins. We drained most of them before we refilled them again. Meryn was the first to drop into the water, clothes and all, followed by the men. Jyn offered me a hand so I could lower myself in gently. The water was icy cold even through my leathers and came only to my waist, but I was so grateful for the chance to wash I didn’t care. I splashed my face. My head spun at the motion. I breathed in slowly, waiting for my vision to clear.

  “What’s wrong?” Jyn asked, a steadying hand on my elbow.

  “I’m fine.” I gave him a weak smile and ran my fingers through the water.

  I wanted to wash my hair, but I knew with the bandage that wasn’t possible. Still, the end of my braid hung in the liquid and I slipped the locks loose of their tie. The illusion that my hair was cleaner made me feel slightly better. I wondered what Mother would think, if she saw me now. Filthy, improper, unladylike. I laughed to myself. Still, I would relish the critique now. She wouldn’t be wrong either. My hair was knotted even despite the constant braid, my face was streaked with dirt, and my clothing was speckled with granite dust.

  All that really mattered in this very moment was the sensation of relief that poured over me as I scrubbed all of the grime away.

  I lowered myself to a rock that jutted from the wall and savored the gentle lap of the water around my chest. My companions scrubbed at themselves and our clothing with bars of soap. I picked at the knots in my hair, gently so I didn’t tug at the wound.

  Meryn was the first out. I clambered over the side shortly after and changed into dry clothes, accepting the piece of cooked Kotsani meat she passed me. I ate and laid down to watch Jyn pace the room. His fingers traced the hilt of his dagger. After a bit, Meryn curled up next to me, Camion on her far side. His snores broke the quiet long before Meryn settled, but even after she did I tossed and stared at the ragged stone ceiling. The room was eerily quiet around the echo of Jyn’s footsteps. I co
uld have sworn hours passed like that before I gave up and joined Jyn in his loop of the room.

  “You should rest, Princess. You look utterly exhausted.” I paused my steps long enough for him to turn and launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his waist. He froze, confused. A wave of nausea flooded my senses, and I took a deep breath. “You okay?”

  I nodded. He relaxed slightly before he hugged me back.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” He pulled back, but I kept my grip firm.

  “For coming with me, when you didn’t want to. For being with me, through everything that’s been going on. Through finding Mother . . . ” I swallowed. “For protecting us. I don’t know what you did in the trees all those times you disappeared but . . . ”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know. And well, protecting you is part of my job description.” He winked. “But you’re welcome. Though I do have to admit, I’m starting to wonder how much longer you’ll need me.” His eyes shot to Camion, a quick gesture he might have intended I miss.

  “Jyn, I will always need you.” I hugged him more tightly. “But you can’t do everything. Guarding me, that’s a lot of weight to carry on your own. Especially lately. You don’t deserve that, either. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy more time to yourself.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t usually mind. Until you decide you need to run off into a dangerous forest, your life be damned. Or touch statues that I warn you not to touch, and almost get yourself killed.”

  “I’m sorry.” I grinned sheepishly. “I couldn’t see getting so far to turn back because I might get hurt. I had to try. Nahara help us when I have to touch that base again.”

  We both recoiled at the idea, but he jerked his chin at where the other two slept and released his hold on me. “You should really lay down. You need sleep more than both of them.”

  “I can take the second watch. I’m awake anyway,” I said.

  Jyn shook his head. “Camion and I will keep watch. We may need more magic from the two of you before this is over. We don’t need you both exhausted going in. Besides if that is a concussion, as I suspect, you need to rest or you won’t heal.”

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  I made my way back to my makeshift bed and laid down. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t get comfortable. My mind wouldn’t quiet, running over the day and what lay ahead. Or potentially lay ahead. When I rolled over for the third or fourth time, Jyn began to hum that low song from the palace and I focused on the notes, letting the soft melody lull me to sleep.

  Chapter 30

  The hallway from the entrance chamber was long after the abrupt turn. I ran my fingers across the stone of the walls, up the little dips and cracks that blemished the surface. I wasn’t sure where we were, but everything was quiet, the echo of our footsteps a heartbeat in the small corridor. Toward the end of the hall, where the floor dipped into what I could only assume were stairs, there were two small rooms. Jyn and I went right, Meryn and Camion left.

  Jyn grabbed a torch from beside the door—there didn’t seem to be any light coming from the small room. If I had to guess, no one had been in this chamber for a good many years. I sneezed when my footsteps disturbed the heavy coat of dust laid across the floor. The grime covered everything in the room, to include a large stone table that sat in the center. Each of the walls was lined floor to ceiling with shelves and those were speckled with an assortment of what looked to be burial supplies. I reached for a wrap of linen. The brittle fabric crumbled between my fingers.

  “Careful, Princess. Who knows what hides in these shelves.” Jyn had a jar in his hand and whatever he saw inside made him shiver. “Eyeballs,” he muttered, setting the glass aside.

  Sharp silver tools layered in rust sat on a shelf of their own, but I didn’t dare touch them. A tiny wooden box caught my eye, and I opened the silver clasp. I expected to find the ritual incense used to honor Nahara but instead the box contained a mixture of finely ground herbs. Jyn leaned over my shoulder.

  “What’s this?” He took the box from my hands and sniffed gingerly. Surprise lit his eyes. “This is an Elven burial mixture.” He passed me the box and held the torch closer. “There’s basil for protection and love, birch for rebirth, comfrey for healing . . . I think I can smell the frankincense, that’s for purification. Lavender is for peace, lily for resurrection . . .”

  “The pomegranate?”

  “Rebirth, and mint is for joy. There’s probably more, that I’m not seeing or identifying.”

  “Why is there an Elven burial mixture here?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” He stared hard at the box for a another moment before he replaced the container on the shelf. “I don’t think there’s anything else in here. It’s a room for burial preparations.”

  I followed Jyn to the door—the other two were in the doorway of the room across the hall. Perfectly timed.

  “Find anything?” Jyn asked.

  Camion shook his head. “Burial supplies. Which I’m assuming means we all know what’s waiting down those stairs.”

  Meryn crept to the top of the stairs and sniffed delicately. She balked before she backed away, asking, “Are we sure we need to go down there?”

  “What did you smell?” Jyn’s eyes were soft, but his brows were pinched.

  Meryn cringed. “I’d bet a great many gold pieces that the angel we passed is the gatekeeper for a massive catacomb, and I’d be willing to stake my life that not everything down there is dead.”

  I considered. “If someone has already been here there’s a chance that anything down there might have already been killed. I know that this isn’t an ideal theory, but we need to know what’s happened here. If that other person succeeded.”

  The silence that met me was hesitant, but I could see the agreement on their faces. I wasn’t entirely sure whether they’d agreed because they actually thought I was right or because they knew I’d go anyway. I appreciated them, nonetheless.

  I led, partially from eagerness. I dropped onto the first step cautiously—the staircase was steep and narrow. Halfway down, I caught the scent of rot. Plant, human, I couldn’t tell, but the odor even overpowered the musk of mildew. There were no rails above these stairs either, only the blue torches in their brackets.

  When the walls broke we were in a massive chamber, the walls lined with coffin-filled niches. A door was pressed into the far wall, the dust on the floor swept into an arc that suggested recent movement.

  We split up to search—I went to the right of the far door. The caskets all seemed to be wooden, and most had patterns carved across their lids. Intricate, varying patterns. If they had meaning, I couldn’t guess what. This close I could smell the herbal burial mixture that had been used on them, and when I touched one of them gingerly my fingers came away covered in sticky cobwebs. Several of the caskets laid open, their lids fallen haphazardly to the ground. The few I dared to peer into were empty of all but a few scraps of linen.

  “Anything?” I asked as I turned, voice low. I couldn’t shake the sense that Meryn was right, that creatures lurked in the shadows around us.

  “No.” The answer was unanimous from Camion and Meryn, but Jyn hesitated.

  “I don’t understand. There are signs of Elven burial rituals everywhere—but the Elves don’t have a burial site in the Emberlyn Forest. Not one that’s marked on our official maps anyway.” Jyn peeked into one of the open caskets as if the occupant would answer him. After a moment he looked up. “What is this place?”

  “I don’t know.” Meryn shifted uncomfortably. “But not everything in this room sleeps. We should move on.”

  A shiver rolled up my spine at her words.

  The door from this room led to a bridge, an imposing stone overpass that jutted between this room and the massive platform ahead. I could make out the slight shadows of other bridges that seemed to branch off the one before us, but the darkness of the cavern around us made me uncertain of how many or where they
led. Shoulder to shoulder, we could pass over two at a time, but we crossed one after the other. My hands shook when I dared to look down into the chasm that dropped to either side of us. There was only black. Endless, expansive black. Meryn kicked a loose chunk of stone off the side and for several moments we waited—nothing. Only when we’d passed the end of the bridge, feet solidly on the safety of the platform, did we hear a far distant “plink” echo from the darkness. I swallowed, hard.

  Like the bridges, the platform seemed carved of old stone. If the stone was connected to anything or simply hung suspended by some ancient magic I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I was too focused on not falling off an edge and by the tense line of Jyn’s shoulders I could tell he was equally wary.

  In the midst of the platform was a large, raised dais with a massive sarcophagus on top. Meryn immediately moved toward the podium, but Jyn pulled her behind him.

  “At least let me go first. I should be able to disarm any traps. Or at least, I’ll hear them faster if I trigger anything.”

  Jyn circled the podium. He tilted his head slightly and ran his hands over the sarcophagus lid. Like the statue above, the material was gold-veined marble, but in this piece there were elaborate grooves, carvings filled with gold. I couldn’t tell from where I stood, but the depressions almost seemed like lettering. Words.

  Nearby, a suit of silver armor stood imposingly, the metal polished to gleam even in the dim light of the torches. The designer had clearly taken great pains to keep the piece lightweight and pliable. If not for the intricate designs etched into the chest plate, the armor might have been utterly unremarkable. The designs matched those on the sarcophagus it stood guard over.

  After another sweep, Jyn waved a hand. “I can’t find anything.”

  Jyn turned his attention to the letters. He ran his fingers over them while Meryn approached to do the same. Camion and I crept closer, but we both seemed to content to stay back from the veined marble. Especially after what happened with the angel—I certainly didn’t need to be thrown off of this platform.