Imber

by Tyffany Hackett

Instead of an answer, I hugged him again. He squeezed me so tightly against him I could hear the soft beat of his heart and for a few seconds the chaos of my mind was calm. Really, truly calm. Warm, safe. I leaned back to study him, to study the curious lift of his eyebrow and piece together my thoughts.

  “How’s your side?” I asked softly. My hand slipped absently to where the bandages lay hidden, fingers gently tracing the small ridges where they overlapped.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “That’s not an answer. Don’t deflect on me. I’m fine. Sore.”

  I stared at him, unblinking, and he rolled his eyes.

  “I will tell you if I’m in pain. Right now . . . it’s not too much,” he said quietly. His lip twitched with amusement.

  Neither of us had actually moved very far. Jyn cleared his throat from behind us, and I jumped. Heat raced through my cheeks.

  “We should probably press on,” Meryn said, not bothering to conceal the smirk that colored her tone.

  Camion took lead, and I wondered if he was trying to hide the color that had risen up his own neck. Meryn dropped into step right behind him and Jyn beside me. His elbow bit into my ribs. When I ignored him, he nudged me again and I paused to give him a wary glance.

  “I approve.” There was no humor to his tone, but there was an undeniably mischievous glint to his eyes.

  “I don’t—”

  “Princess, you can deny this all you want, but if you decide to be honest, I approve.” He grinned.

  Meryn and Camion had moved into the room at the end of the bridge. The ceiling was higher here than in any of the previous rooms. Torches speckled not only the perimeter but the large columns that held up the center. A fecal scent filled the air, and from one corner of the room rose an incessant squeaking chatter.

  “Bats.” Jyn pointed toward the sound. “I think that’s all that’s in here though.”

  The walls were smooth in this chamber, but several of the columns were cracked. The other three split up to make sure we didn’t miss anything. I ran my fingertips over the ragged stone, considering Jyn’s words. My eyes followed Camion.

  When had this started to happen? When did I start to notice that he only ever half smiled, or that I loved watching his eyes sparkle in the light? Or that he did everything with meticulous care? That he was unfailingly loyal to me, even though I’d never done anything to be worthy of such? How did I miss that he was almost as watchful as Jyn, shooting glances in my direction every few moments?

  I had thought about the situation, sure, even as much as I’d pushed those thoughts away. Considered the implications, considered him. In the back of my mind I’d always tried to ignore that voice—the small one that nagged me in a tone that sounded ironically like Mother—that kept screaming about the trouble seeing a “commoner” would be.

  That was the problem though, wasn’t it? In my eyes, there was nothing common about Camion. I had never met anyone like him. No one had ever cared with the fierceness of Jyn or challenged me like Meryn. At the same time, he was nothing like them either. He had a fire and a grace that I didn’t understand. Maybe I didn’t need to. When had I minded what anyone else wanted of me or thought of the people I cared for?

  My mind was racing. Meryn nudged my arm. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I was thinking about something Jyn said. Find anything?”

  “No. Nothing concrete anyway. Come on, I think there’s another room ahead.”

  I nodded and cast another glance at Camion. Jyn’s words bounced through my thoughts, even when I tried to ignore them.

  Chapter 33

  The next room seemed to be another storage chamber and held nothing of interest, though it connected to another of the wide-open platforms that we’d seen on the first floor. Halls led off of this one, dark holes carved from stone.

  “We can split up again. Meryn, come with me.” Jyn snickered as he added the last bit and I sighed.

  “Pushy, isn’t he?” Camion said under his breath. I groaned in agreement but watched as the other two disappeared down one of the halls. “Shall we?”

  I raised an eyebrow, but he had already stepped away. He pulled a torch off the wall. The room we went into was dark—none of the torches in here were lit and we heard a light scratching sound toward the back wall. I shivered. This room was cold, far colder than the platform we’d stepped off of, but from what I could see the walls were solid stone—nowhere for a draft to slip in. Camion paused, listened.

  “We need to see if there’s another door, but going in further might trigger a trap or alert whatever is in here to our presence.” He tilted his head slightly. “I’ll check. Go back and wait for them, I might need help.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone wounded.”

  “My side is far more healed than your head. I don’t want you to fight unless you have to.”

  “You might not have a choice.” I grinned. “Besides I can use my bow fine.”

  Camion groaned. “I don’t like this. What about your arm?”

  “My arm isn’t broken, I can shoot still.” I slipped the bow from my back and loosely nocked an arrow.

  “Wait. I don’t know what that is,” he said softly, head tilted to listen. “The sounds aren’t the same as the reanimated we fought before.”

  I paused and listened to the quiet scratches. “I’m not sure.”

  We stepped lightly, using the wall as a guide. Camion ran his fingers along the stone. He kept the torch close to his side, but after a few moments, he swore under his breath. “There’s something here.”

  A wooden door sat pressed into the sidewall. I lifted my bow in case anything awaited us on the other side. He drew his sword and glanced over my shoulder before he pulled the door handle. Nothing. Nothing but another giant pile of rocks.

  “Another cave in.” I sighed. “Let’s try to get out of here without disturb—”

  Camion put a hand to my arm. “Listen.”

  I paused. Silence. The scratches had stopped. I shot him a glance and pulled my bow taut.

  “Go. Go, let's get out of here,” Camion said hurriedly. He tugged on my wrist. I moved for the door, a faintly lit spot several feet in front of us. Then the light blinked out as the door slammed shut.

  “Not again . . .” I muttered. “Camion—”

  “I know.” He swung the torch wide, trying to get a glimpse of what blocked the door.

  I turned and aimed my bow toward the small circle of light from the torch. The soft sounds resumed, but they weren’t near the door as I’d suspected. Camion turned, eyes scanning the room, and moments later he swore loudly.

  Spiders. Spiders the size of rabbits crawled down the walls and across the floor.

  “Oh, come on! Spiders?” Camion swore again, louder this time. “Give me your bow, hold the torch.”

  I grumbled but agreed. I passed him the quiver as we backed toward the door. The handle still wouldn’t budge, but when I brushed my fingers over the wood sparks appeared under my touch.

  “The door is enchanted. Maybe we have to kill the spiders to get out?” I said softly.

  Camion grunted, his energy focused on firing arrow after arrow at the black arachnids. The tiny eyes glittered in the firelight. Creepy. I tugged at the door, but when I was certain there was no chance of it opening I pulled out my dagger and stepped up beside Camion, offhandedly stabbing at the spiders on the wall beside us. None of them seemed particularly dangerous, though a few jumped at us. Neither of us wanted to find out exactly how badly a bite could hurt, in any case.

  After several minutes, Camion took the torch from me and circled the room. He dispatched the ones that lingered while I gathered arrows back into my quiver, as best I could in the dark. When Camion returned I tugged at the door again. “Camion, this still won’t open.”

  “What?” He stepped around me and pulled. “How—”

  He passed me the torch again before he took a breath and rammed his shoulder against the door. The wood didn’t so much as groan.
<
br />   “The wood is definitely enchanted,” I said, tugging a strand of my hair. “I don’t know how to break the spell though.”

  I heard footsteps on the other side and a confused, “Natylia? Camion?”

  “Jyn, Meryn, we’re in here!” I called. The sound of steps closed in and there was a rattle from the other side.

  “Why won’t this door open?” Jyn asked. I could hear the edge of panic in his voice.

  “There’s some kind of magic at work. When I touch the wood there are sparks.”

  “Natylia, is there anything carved on the door? Anything at all?” Meryn’s voice was much more even, and I could imagine she searched the other side of the wall as she spoke.

  “No, nothing.”

  “The runes must be along the jamb then . . .”

  “Meryn, get her out of there.” I knew Jyn’s expression without seeing his face. The flare of temper, of worry. Within moments, he’d begin to pace circles around Meryn. Predictable.

  “Jyn, we’re okay. We killed the spiders that were in here, we’re fine.”

  “Spiders?”

  “Spiders the size of rabbits . . .” Camion grumbled.

  “What do you mean spiders the size of rabbits?” Jyn’s voice jumped an octave.

  “Jyn, they’re dead. Calm down, we’ll figure this out. We’re okay, I promise. The spiders were nothing.” I nudged Camion and added in a much lower voice, “You’re not helping.”

  The look he gave me was apologetic. We fell into silence before Meryn spoke up again. “Have you searched the rest of the room for runic markings?”

  “No.”

  She didn’t reply, so I took the torch from Camion and did a slow round of the room. I searched every inch of the wall. Near the collapsed door a tall rectangle was etched into the stone. Inside that were lines that sparkled and shimmered at my touch. I moved back to Camion.

  “Meryn, there’s a rectangle in the front corner, beside this collapsed door. There are markings inside but I can’t make head or tail of them.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” she said. I could hear Jyn’s footsteps behind her now, and the angry chink of his dagger on the columns as he passed them. “Let me check this side, see if there’s a matching set.”

  I listened as her footsteps disappeared. Several minutes passed before she returned. While we waited, I dug my cloak from my pack to tie around my shoulders. The room was so cold and the longer we were in here the more the temperature seemed to drop. Finally, I heard her steps return. She rapped lightly on the door. “You guys still there?”

  “No, we dug a hole through the wall while we waited,” I said. “Turn around.”

  “Very funny. The rectangle is etched on this side, but not the runes. My guess is those runes are what unlock the door, or maybe open a new one. You’ll have to figure out how to activate them though.”

  Jyn paused in his steps. “We can’t do anything for them? They’re trapped in there?”

  “Natylia can figure this out,” Meryn said levelly. “I’d suggest at least a nap before you try, by the way, in case the magic saps your energy. Arcane magic demands a price from the user. Our last rest was fairly short, and if there’s a draining enchantment in those runes, you’ll be completely wiped.”

  “Saps her—” Jyn interrupted his own sentence with a string of expletives and I heard the loud thud of what I assumed was a heavy kick to the door. “I’ll break this damn door down myself.”

  “You can’t,” Meryn said. “You have to let her figure this out. They’ll be fine.” A pause. “Jyn, they have food, water, and each other. They’ll be fine. Calm down.”

  I heard another thud, this one softer as though Jyn had punched the door this time. Another string of curses left his lips, and I heard his footsteps fade away.

  “I’ll take care of him Natylia. Focus on deciphering those runes. And really, take a rest first.”

  Then Meryn was gone. Her steps faded behind Jyn’s. I turned my attention to Camion who had been listening quietly. He carried the torch nearer to the runes and slipped the handle into one of the empty brackets on the wall.

  “Well,” he said quietly.

  “I need to rest. Then I’ll try to figure this out. I’ll get us out of here. I promise.”

  A half smile. “I’m not worried.”

  My gaze lingered on his eyes, on the way the blue torchlight changed the tones of green and enhanced the blues. His chin was speckled with much more hair than usual. A few more days and he’d be bordering dangerously on beard territory.

  “You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he said, breaking my line of thought.

  I smirked. “You’re growing a beard.”

  “I think the beard makes me look manly.”

  “You don’t need a beard for that,” I muttered under my breath. His brow lifted.

  I tugged some clothing and apples free of my pack. We had enough food to last the two of us quite a while, but I hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. I tossed one to Camion and bit into the other, cloak pulled tight around my shoulders. I was so cold. I couldn’t help but wonder if the enchantment on the room wasn’t meant to hold us in so much as to slowly freeze us to death. Not a pleasant thought. How would Annalea feel, if she found out I’d frozen to death down here? What would Mother have thought of my escapades? At least if I died, Meryn would likely see the venture through. Find the scepter, make sure my kingdom was safe.

  Camion dropped beside me. He studied my face for a moment before he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

  “Everything. This place. Mother, Annalea. How damned cold this room is.”

  He chuckled and laid back on the pile he’d made for himself. I tugged my cloak up, grateful that I’d thought to grab such one of such heavy cloth before we’d left. Still, only moments passed before I began to shiver again. Camion rolled on his side and propped himself on his elbow. He picked at his bandages with his free hand. “You’ll never get any sleep with your teeth chattering like that, and neither will I.”

  I grumbled and pulled the cloak up over my head. A poor choice, when my boots were exposed at the bottom and the cold began to creep in at the seams. Camion chuckled again and draped his cloak over me. He settled back on the makeshift bed, his arm splayed loosely over his face. This time, I rolled onto my side.

  “You’ll freeze.”

  “I’m warm-blooded.”

  “I can see the goosebumps on your arms already.”

  He lifted the arm from his face and studied the tiny bumps. “Fair point.”

  He didn’t move to take his cloak back, so I draped the fabric over him and laid back down. Within moments, we were both shivering.

  “I can solve this,” he said quietly, “if Your Majesty doesn’t mind me being a bit forward.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and weighed his sarcasm with his sincerity. Then I nodded. He moved closer and pressed himself against my back, laying both cloaks over us. Despite his best efforts I still saw the small winces when he shifted too far, and I tugged at the cloaks to help.

  “See, body heat.” His breath was warm on my ear, and I shivered. He laughed, but he wasn’t wrong. Together and under both cloaks, we were both significantly warmer—the man burned like living flame. I rolled to face him, careful not to disturb our makeshift blankets, and gripped his bare forearm.

  “See, cold,” I whispered. He flinched and rolled onto his back as I giggled.

  “Cruel, Tyli, cruel.”

  But he gathered my hands between his, rubbing gently until they were warm. I closed my eyes. Exhaustion tugged at me, soothed by the calming heat of Camion's body. When he released my hands, I jumped and sprang back to full awareness.

  “Sorry,” he said quietly. “Try to sleep. You’re safe, I promise.”

  I nodded and shifted closer to him. He froze when I laid my head on his shoulder. Only right before I slipped out of consciousness did he relax with a quiet chuckle.

  ***

  When I woke, I
didn’t think much time had passed. I was slightly disoriented at the lack of light, the single torch flickering above us cheerfully. Camion was still asleep. At some point in my sleep, I’d laid my hand on his chest and for a few moments I watched my fingers gently rise and fall with his low, steady breaths before I scrambled to pull away. I sat up and rubbed at my eyes. Only when I’d started to stretch my shoulders did I realize I hadn’t had a nightmare in my sleep. My head ached, but there was no nausea this morning, no cold sweat, no sickness to shake me awake. I glanced at Camion. When was the last time he’d slept so peacefully? I didn’t know.

  Maybe because I’d never bothered to ask.

  I rolled the clothing I’d slept on and threw them into my pack. I tied my cloak around my shoulders before tugging the hood up over my ears and braid. Camion shifted slightly when I tucked his cloak up around him, his soft snores broken for a moment. A long while, then.

  While he slept, I tried to poke around the wall. I traced my fingers across the runes but the sparks didn’t reveal any secrets. I ran a dagger across the tip of my finger and etched each of the runes with the blood. They glowed as I finished but when I completed the last, nothing more happened. The door wasn’t any more willing to budge than before. What was I missing? I ran over everything I’d seen Meryn do with runes, all the tricks I’d tried since we entered the catacombs. Nothing was working. I went back to the where the torch hung and leaned against the wall to rub at my aching temples. The persistent chill didn't improve my mood. My teeth chattered as I tried to focus.

  “You okay?” I opened my eyes. Camion had sat up and was in the midst of stretching his arms and back.

  “Yeah. I can’t figure out this wall.”

  He passed in front of me and studied the markings. After a moment, he shot a wary look in my direction. “What did you cut?”

  I wagged a finger at him. “Nothing major. The runes have been glowing since, but they haven’t done anything else.”

  Camion moved to stand beside me, crossing his arms over his chest before he leaned on the wall. “I don’t know anything about magic. Sorry.”