Great and Precious Things

by Rebecca Yarros

  She stood at the ledge, her back to the ventilation shaft, looking at us with wide eyes and tearstained cheeks. She was alive. She was okay.

  “Rose, step away from the edge,” Willow said softly. “Come here.” She held out her arms, and my heart rate dropped with each step Rose took from the shaft.

  “I’m so sorry,” Rose cried as she reached Willow and collapsed against her aunt. “I just wanted to find your pin.”

  “It’s okay,” Willow promised as she held her tight, resting her chin on the top of Rose’s head. “It’s okay.”

  “I couldn’t find it. I did all of this, and it’s still not here.”

  “Rose?” Gideon called from across the shaft. There was another entrance at this level?

  “We’ve got her!” I confirmed. “Come on, ladies. Let’s get you out of here.” The need to get them as far away from that damned shaft as possible clawed at my gut.

  Willow clasped Rose’s hand and then gently pushed her ahead, toward where the tunnel narrowed to the door.

  “Hi, Cam,” Rose said softly as she squeezed by me.

  “Hey, Rosie.” I wanted to scoop her up, but I wasn’t going to let go of the door and have it close on Willow.

  A shaky, trembling smile graced her lips as she passed me next, kissing my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Nothing to thank me for,” I replied, then let the door swing shut once she was through. It met the frame in a heavy slam of metal.

  Then I grabbed Rose and hugged her. “You scared us.”

  Her tiny shoulders heaved. “I’m so sorry. The door shut behind me, and there’s no handle.”

  There were about thirty ways I wanted to yell at her for scaring us, for coming down here in the first place, for listening to the ravings of a man who’d already lost his mind—even if he’d actually known what he was talking about in this instance. But her mother could do that as soon as we got her back to the surface. I just needed to feel her breathe for a second.

  “You’re okay,” I promised, but I wasn’t sure if it was to the little girl in my arms or to myself.

  She nodded against my neck.

  I looked at Willow, but her eyes were on the door, two lines forming between her eyebrows. “Pika?”

  “I can’t remember, but I know I was here.” She’d been the same size as Rose but alone for so many more hours. Broken, bleeding, and so cold, her skin had felt like ice against mine.

  “Give me just a second,” I said to her and carried Rose out to where Gideon and Dad had just made it to the chamber. “Keep her,” I told Gid, handing Rose over, then went back to Willow.

  She stood with the door open, her headlamp illuminating the tunnel beyond. “I want to see it. Is that weird?”

  “Understandable.” There was a hook on the wall, and when I took the door from Willow and pushed it wide, the iron slipped into the ring on the door, holding it open. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Thank you.”

  I took her hand and stepped through the door first, keeping contact as she followed behind. The tunnel widened and opened onto a small ledge that looked over the ten-foot-wide ventilation shaft, and Willow stepped up beside me.

  “You know when you go somewhere as an adult, and you say, ‘It felt so much bigger as a child’?” she asked.

  “This does not,” I said, looking up and up at the fifty feet or so to the next sublevel. It wasn’t vertical, thank God, or we both would have died, but the incline was steep enough that I wondered at my own bravery back then.

  “No, it’s just as awful as I remember.” She stepped closer to the edge and looked down, focusing on the jagged outcropping I’d found her on about ten feet below us. “Cam, I didn’t fall the whole way.” She looked up the shaft at the tiny pinpoint of light that marked the surface. “That’s why I didn’t break more.”

  Like her neck.

  “You fell from here.” I put it together, watching one of the small rocks just past my feet give in to gravity and fall. It smacked the outcropping, then fell into the blackness. I tugged Willow’s hand and pulled her back a step. This thing was anything but stable.

  “But you didn’t. You came all the way down.” She looked up again, shaking her head. “How did you do it? Get down here and get us both out?”

  “Sheer willpower.” I clutched her hand even tighter.

  “You’re incredible. Do you know that?”

  I nudged her hard hat up so the beam didn’t hit me straight in the eye. “Not really.”

  “Desperation and love make ordinary people do heroic things,” Dad said from behind us, moving to stand next to Willow at the edge of the unstable ledge. “You were never ordinary, and you had both.” He stated it like a fact, not a compliment, then glanced at me before surveying the space.

  “I didn’t see this ledge,” I admitted. “Or the one across the way. We climbed all the way up for nothing.”

  “This one wouldn’t have done you much good, seeing as the door can’t be opened from this side.” Dad thumbed back toward the door. “And the other opening is small, too. As dark as it is in here, you wouldn’t have seen it. We’ve got three headlamps, Camden, one of which is brighter than twenty of what we had back then.”

  I kicked myself for not being more observant, for putting her through more than I had to when she was already so hurt.

  “Stop,” Dad snapped, seeing my guilt. “You focused on the light and started climbing, just like anyone else would have.”

  “You saved me.” Willow smiled up at me.

  “Hey, isn’t that—?” The ledge gave way under Dad.

  “Art!” Willow screamed, grabbing for Dad as rocks crashed to the unknown bottom below.

  “No!” The sound ripped from my throat.

  She fell to the side, slamming her hip against the ground, and slid toward the edge as if dragged. I lunged behind her, landing on my hands and feet before hitting my stomach, then locked my arm around her waist to hold her back. I swung her legs, bringing her feet back toward the door and the more stable portion of the ledge.

  “Cam!” she shrieked. “He’s too heavy!”

  I crawled forward to see that she had Dad’s hand, and it was twisting her arm at an angle that was going to snap it quickly.

  “Dad!” I reached for him, following the line of Willow’s arm.

  “Let me go. Don’t let her fall with me!” he called up.

  Willow cried out.

  I felt the killing calm come over me and welcomed it like a long-lost friend.

  “I’ve got you.” I gripped his wrist with my left hand and immediately felt some of the strain lift from Willow’s arm. Then I reached around the back of Willow’s hand, her knuckles white from trying to keep Dad from falling. “Let go, Pika, so I can get two hands on him. You can’t lift him out at that angle. Let go.” I kept my voice soft even as my heart slammed against my chest.

  “Cam?” she asked, still holding on to him.

  “I promise I’ve got him.”

  She released her hand, and Dad swung to the left before I could get his hand with my right. “Got you! Willow, get Gid.”

  She scrambled for the door.

  “Let me go,” Dad ordered.

  “You have no idea how deep that goes, Dad. Just hold on.” Rocks crumbled from the area Willow had just vacated.

  “Camden.”

  My eyes met his, and it struck me how calm he was. How I’d been cursing the parts of me that were like him, only to be grateful for them later on.

  “Gideon is coming, and we’ll pull you up. I just don’t have the leverage,” I told him. “You’re not slipping, and I’m strong enough to hold you.” Thank God he had on a fleece jacket. My hands would have slid right off his skin.

  “The ledge is going to go. Do not do this.”

  “The ledge is fine,�
� I shouted. “Gideon!” Where was he?

  “I love you, Camden. And I know I was shit at showing it. But you were just so much like me. Sully and Xander, they were your mom, but you…in everything but looks, you were me. And Cal…he was the lovable one. The good one.”

  Another section of rock gave way, and I heard footsteps hurrying toward us.

  “Dad, you can tell me all about it later.”

  “Let me go.”

  I sucked in a breath, finally understanding what he was saying. “No, Dad. No.”

  “I’m not taking you with me.”

  “Holy shit,” Gideon shouted, hitting his stomach and sliding up next to me.

  “Gid’s here, Dad. We can pull you out.”

  He stayed silent, but his expressions flickered so fast that I couldn’t tell what he was feeling or thinking. Sadness? Anger? Acceptance? Even happiness?

  “Just reach up with your other hand.”

  Gideon leaned forward as far as he dared and lowered his hand.

  “Dad?” I begged. “I can’t do this for you. It’s your choice.”

  Gideon’s gaze snapped toward me and then back to Dad before managing to lower his hand another inch.

  “You have to choose, Dad.”

  This was it: the moment he’d wanted. The decision was his. Another section of the ledge collapsed, ending right before my arm started, but I still didn’t look away from those eyes. Sullivan’s eyes.

  His lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. Then he roared and swung up with his left hand. Gideon caught it, and we both immediately lifted, scraping Dad’s arms, then his chest and stomach on the edge of the ledge as we pulled him back onto the solid surface. Once he got to his knees, he fell forward, and we all rushed for the door, where Willow waited.

  Dad looked back at me and gave me a singular, knowing nod, and I knew that was all he’d ever have to say about what just happened.

  “I think this belongs to you, young lady,” he said, pressing something into Willow’s palm before walking through the door.

  “I need a beer,” Gideon muttered, following Dad.

  I grabbed Willow to me, holding her against my chest, not caring that her helmet dug into the layers of my jacket to press the skin beneath. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” she repeated, her hands clutching the fabric at my back.

  “Let’s get you out of here.” I could go the rest of my life and never see this portion of the mine again. That would be fine by me. She nodded, and we walked back into the chamber.

  “Look what your dad found.” She held up her unicorn pin. It was a tiny thing, barely the size of a quarter.

  “Look at that.” I brushed my thumb over her palm, but when I looked up, she was focused on something to her right. The door. “What is it?”

  She tucked the pin in her pocket and turned to face the heavy iron mass. Then she brought her hand down from her chin, as if she were measuring something, and when she reached mid-chest, she moved her hand to the same level on the door.

  “Cam,” she whispered.

  There were two darker spots in the rust. Blood.

  Rage swept over me, holding hands with a knowledge I never wanted. And it all made sense. All of that day, those that came before, and the ones that followed.

  Our eyes locked, hers wide with shock, and I shut the door, letting it close with a satisfying slam.

  I knew where that fucking map was.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Willow

  Cam was nearly silent as we made our way out of the mine. He reminded me of a caged tiger, prowling the edges of his bars, waiting to be unleashed. I kept Rose’s hand in mine and tried not to think about what we’d found and what we’d almost lost.

  Gideon checked for cell reception as we climbed sublevels, and it didn’t surprise me that there was none to be found this far underground.

  Art was showing signs of sundowning, and I knew we needed to get him out of the mine before he couldn’t remember why he was here. I needed to get out of this mine before I couldn’t forget.

  We reached the main 1880 tunnel, and I almost let myself relax. Even if we all collapsed here, someone would find us. The distance the train had covered in five minutes took twenty to walk. We reached the first chamber, where the tunnels split in three directions, and my dad shouted, running for us with a search party on his heels.

  “Grandpa!” Rose dropped my hand and ran for him. He fell to his knees and threw his arms around her, his shoulders shaking. “I’m okay,” she promised.

  Exhaustion slammed into me, and my steps slowed as I neared them. “We found her—”

  Dad gripped my coat and pulled. I slipped to the ground, and he wrapped his arm around my back. His breaths were ragged, and I laid my head on his shoulder as he regained his composure.

  “Thank you.”

  I didn’t need to look to know that he spoke to Cam.

  “I didn’t have to carry her this time,” Cam replied, and I smiled despite the weariness creeping into my bones.

  When Dad felt together enough to rise, we piled into the train. Art drove after telling Cam he damn well knew what he was doing. Dad sat across from me with Rose tucked under his arm, and I rested my head on Cam’s chest.

  “I’m so tired,” I told him as the train took off.

  “Adrenaline letdown.” He pressed a kiss against my forehead.

  “Same with you?” I asked as the train sped toward the light and fresh, clean air.

  “I’m not done yet.” His muscles were coiled with tension, but he still held me gently as we came to a stop at the gatehouse.

  Xander stood at the structure, giving an interview to some news channel, and I wondered how much time had passed. The crowd erupted when they saw us, and Charity sprinted from the side of the tunnel, sobbing wordlessly as she ran for her daughter.

  Dad lifted Rose over the side of the car, and Charity enveloped her in her arms.

  “Thank you!” she cried at Dad, then pulled back from Rose long enough to examine her face.

  “Thank Cam,” Dad answered.

  But Cam wasn’t watching the reunion. His eyes were narrowed on Xander, malice pouring off him in waves.

  “Cam,” I whispered.

  He dropped his eyes to mine, and they didn’t soften, but he gently stroked the bridge of my nose with his fingertip, then looked at my father.

  “I make no excuses for what’s about to happen.”

  That was our only warning. He climbed from the train onto the platform and charged at Xander.

  “There you are, Cam! I was just giving an update!” I heard Xander’s voice despite the thirty feet that separated us. Then I heard his breath expel in a gush as Cam pinned him to the side of the building.

  “Cam!” Gideon shouted, racing after him.

  I scrambled to the deck and ran.

  “How could you?” Cam screamed. “How the hell could you do that to her? She was nine, you asshole! Nine! And you shoved her into that tunnel and slammed the door on her goddamned face!”

  I skidded to a halt, realizing that Cam had figured it out, too. He’d been so silent on the trek back here that I wondered if he’d come to the same conclusion I had when I saw the bloodstains. My bloodstains.

  “What?” Gideon questioned, voicing pretty much everyone’s exact thought.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Xander countered, putting his hands against the rock, showing the world that he wasn’t the aggressor here.

  “I’m talking about you killing your headlamp and shoving Willow into that damned tunnel. You’re the one who broke her nose! Why? Why would you do that? Why would you leave her there?”

  “You have no proof! You sound as crazy as Dad!” Xander’s eyes bugged out.

  “I remember,” I said loud enough for Xander t
o hear. His eyes snapped to mine. “The headlamp died, and you said to keep our hands on the wall. But then there was a rush of air, and you pushed me. I stumbled back, and when I tried to run forward to get back to where we’d been, you slammed the door. I woke up on the ground, and when I backed away, I didn’t see the ledge in the dark and tumbled right over it.” Where I then lay for hours until Cam found me, not remembering exactly what brought me there in the first place.

  Xander shook his head. “No, Willow, you must be confused.”

  Cam pressed his forearm across Xander’s throat. “Try again.”

  Gideon stepped forward, but his father stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m not,” I snapped. “I didn’t remember until I saw the blood. It’s still on the door, Xander.”

  He blanched. “I was coming back for you!” His eyes swung to Cam’s. “I was going back for her. I thought if she was missing for a few hours, and I found her…” He shook his head. “I was fourteen! I was a stupid kid!”

  “She was nine!” Cam shouted, shoving Xander harder against the frame. “Nine! And you left her there bleeding and hurt so you could go back and rescue her? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “She was fine! See, she’s fine!”

  “Because I found her! Because I slid down fifty feet of a mine shaft and then pushed her up every foot of it to get her out. She’s fine because of me!” Veins bulged in Cam’s neck, and for the first time, I worried that he might really kill Xander.

  “I would have found her if you hadn’t ripped the headlamp off my head and run!” Xander shouted. “You ruined it. You ruin everything.”

  Cam pushed off Xander, putting a foot of space between them, and Gideon relaxed next to me. “This is what you really are? Under all the polish and the PR, you’re just a pile of shit.” Cam shook his head. “I thought you were the best of us. You were the golden boy. You were going to change the world, Xander. That’s why I took the fall for you that night when you set the bunkhouse on fire.”

  There was a collective gasp, and my heart broke. The very thing he’d been condemned for in this town hadn’t even been his sin. He’d taken it from his brother.