He looks momentarily surprised to find his leader and me kneeling on the ground assembling a cot. “What is that?”
Lexa sighs and rubs her temples. “It is a bed, Nathanial.”
“Who would sleep on that? It looks like it will collapse the moment anyone puts weight on it.”
I look at the cot, it does seem a little rickety. “I don’t mind sleeping in it,” I offer. “It’s better than the stone floor I usually sleep on.”
“She is going to sleep in here with you?” Nathanial snaps. “We met her four days ago, and you are willing to sleep in the same room as her? What if she is here to murder you?”
Four days. Well, that answers the question of how long I was unconscious for.
Lexa rises to her feet and stares at Nathanial. “I could have died in that cave in. I was pinned to the wall, and I had no hope of getting myself free. Claire could have let me die then.” Lexa pauses and adds, “I even told her to run, and yet she stayed to free me, risking her life to save mine.”
Nathanial opens and closes his mouth unsure of what to say. Eventually, he settles on silence.
Lexa levels him with a stare. “I trust her. Now did you come here to scold me, or are you here for a reason?”
Nathanial looks down at his feet and clears his throat. “I will have water and food sent to you.”
With that, he turns and leaves. Lexa rubs her face and sits down on the cot we just assembled. It creeks but holds firm.
I gingerly sit down next to her. “Is he always like that?”
“Nathanial is just overprotective,” Lexa says through her hands.
She rubs her temples, and I spot faded green lines on her neck. “Do you have a headache?”
“Yes, I have had it since the cave in.”
My next question dies on my lips as I turn to see a group of young children holding a large pot of water.
I nudge Lexa, and she looks up from her hands and smiles at the children who swarm her.
A small boy tugs Lexa's sleeve. “Lexa, did you kill the monster in the tunnels?”
“Was it big?” chirps another boy.
An older girl hushes the children before caving and asking, “Are we safe now?”
Lexa holds up her hands and waits for the children to quieten. “Yes, we are safe.”
The children all start to speak at once. But before they can ask too many questions, a plump older woman rounds the corner with a blanket in her hands.
“Alright children off to bed, leave them be,” the woman instructs.
Lexa kneels to the ground, and the children rush her for a hug. The smallest girl, with blonde hair, manages to circle back and claims a second hug before the older woman ushers her off.
“Here you go, dearie,” says the older woman as she hands me the blanket in her arms. “I was told you didn’t have one.”
I take the blanket from her. “Thank you.”
The old woman nods and leaves. Lexa stands up, and I unroll my blanket and lay it out on the bed. I strip off my armor. The blood and dirt that covers it make for an unappealing image. I turn to find Lexa removing her shirt and I notice a deep swollen gash on her shoulder. The skin around it is already showing blue and purple blotches.
“You are hurt,” I say.
“I know,” comes a quiet reply.
“Let me help you.”
Lexa stands in front of me wearing only a chest binding and pants. She nods ever so slightly. I have to force myself to swallow as I turn to find items to treat her with. I take a deep breath and collect the water bowl and the medical kit. I go over to her and begin cleaning the dirt from her wound. I remove tiny bits of rock from the injury. My mind flashes to a falling rock and Lexa's gasp of pain. My stomach twists and my eyes close as I force the memory away. That rock should have hit me.
I let out a slow breath and make an attempt at conversation. “You are an excellent fighter.”
Lexa takes in a sharp breath as I work a small stone out of her injury. “Thank you. You are not so bad yourself.” She looks back at me, a smile on her face.
I shrug with a smile. “ “What can I say? I’m great.”
Lexa lets out a small laugh and shakes her head at my words. I retrieve the needle and thread and use them to close the wound on Lexa's shoulder. Returning to my backpack, I collect the healing paste. I smear a generous amount of it on her injury. As I do so, I notice the green lines on her neck have faded completely. I busy myself with wrapping a bandage around her shoulder and chest in an attempt to keep the clean covering in place.
We use what remains of the water and do our best to wipe ourselves clean. I collect my armor from the pile on the floor and drape it over a crate, so it is out of the way. My singlet and grey shorts are about as worn as clothing can be, and holes have started to work their way into the seams. I pull the shirt to get a better look at the new gap on the side. The material rips and falls apart in my hands. I sigh and hold the sizable chunk of material in my hand, my stomach is now entirely exposed. Why do I even bother wearing this, it’s not like it’s doing much anyway.
Lexa lets out a chuckle at my predicament and throws me a shirt from her backpack. I quickly swap my old one for this new one. I hold the tattered parts of my old singlet in my hands unsure of what to do with it. I look at it for a moment and stuff it into my bag. That’s a later problem.
I look up to find Lexa fingering her necklace through her shirt as she stares at the wall. I want to talk to Lexa about our necklaces, to tell her about my quest, and to ask her about the painful light on my skin and the headache. But now is not the time, we are both tired, and in this quiet room, it would be too easy to be overheard.
I stand and gaze at the room lined with cots and all the displaced rebels. Were those chimeras here looking for me? It wouldn’t be the first time Darkmor has employed the use of beasts to find a wayward slave. It’s too soon since the Cerebi to dismiss the possibility. Surely he doesn’t hunt down every slave in this manner or the compound wouldn’t be so full of people.
It could be because I am such a well-known slave, but again a rumor could be spread that said I died of my injuries. My thoughts drift back to Kathrine’s words regarding my mother’s lineage.
My thought collide and tumble over one another. I’m too tired for this type of thinking.
I return to my cot and shove my bag and boots under it, I cast one last look at Lexa before I crawl under the covers. I roll around, the bed creaking as I search for a comfortable position to lie in. Finally, after much tossing and turning, I find a warm spot and bury my head in the blanket.
Chapter Nine
Recovery and Discovery
I awake to snores and the soft sounds of the sleeping people who fill the room around me. I stretch and lay on my rickety bed. A lot had happened in the last few days, but the necklaces and their powers keep returning to the front of my mind. How was it possible they had created that light shield? Lexa had told me that crystals could be filled with power from someone who has the gift. But the things she had spoken about had been simple things like crystals that warm and light a room. This magic seemed to have a life—it changed and grew.
My mother hadn’t said a word about the gems ability to create light. I pull the necklace from my shirt and twist it through my fingers. I peer at the glimmering gem, so innocent and ordinary. I have a feeling this won’t be the last surprise thrown my way before this quest is over.
I can’t believe I found another necklace so fast. It is strange how this has turned out. If I had run in a different direction. If the Cerebi didn’t chase me. If I hadn’t been with Lexa when I encountered the Chimera. So many things had to happen the way they did for me to discover this necklace. For me to meet Lexa. Fate. I had never been one for fate, but the circumstances did call for consideration.
I glance at the empty bed next to me, its covers made ready for the next person. I should get up too. Grumbling, I struggle up and sit with my legs off the side of the bed. I can’t hel
p my wince at the pull of sore, stiff muscles. For a moment I seriously consider the pros and cons of not getting out of bed. I hate mornings, and sore muscles don’t exactly fill me with the desire to move around. I sigh. Nothing is accomplished by lying in bed.
I spy a man sitting on the bed next to me, his leg wrapped in a bloody bandage and a pile of clothes beside him. Steadily he works through the mound, mending with a steady pace. Even this guy found a way to help while I'm lying in bed. I climb out of my warm blankets. I rest my feet on the cold floor and hurry to pull on my clothes. I struggle to yank on my boots and armor in my half asleep state. Growling in frustration, I yank at my boot. It takes far too long for me to realize I am trying to put it on the wrong foot. Sighing, I take it off and start again.
Once I have successfully put my clothes on, in all the right places, I inspect my armor and crinkle my nose at the streaks of dirt and blood that are splayed across its surface. I reach for the washcloth in the bowl beside me and scrub at my armor. My first attempts do nothing more than spread the blood and dirt across the surface, and it takes many return trips to the washbowl, but at last, I get them clean. I throw the dirty cloth into the washbasin with a splash and inspect my clean-ish armor. It’s better. I can now be around others without offending them with my appearance. So much for that bath. I don’t think I stayed clean for more than half an hour.
I eye the bowl of brownish red water. What am I supposed to do with it? I can’t leave it here for someone else to deal with; after all, I am the one who made the mess. I grab the bowl and pad my way through the makeshift dormitory, quietly dodging cots and possessions. I wander through the halls and discover many maintenance crews working to reinforce the walls to help prevent the cave in from spreading. It seems oddly efficient, I hadn’t even considered the cave in could spread, but then again these people know more about tunnel maintenance than I probably ever would.
An old woman with a bent back and a well carved wooden cane stops and peers at the bowl in my hands with a raised brow. “What are you doing with that?”
I glance at the swirling water. “I am looking for somewhere to dispose of it.”
The woman nods, her wispy white hair falling from her tie. “This way.”
I follow obediently behind her, and she leads me to a washroom. Clothes hang everywhere, and many people crowd around steaming buckets cleaning fabrics. A whole section of the room is dedicated to drying washed bandages.
Another woman walks in through the door carrying a basket of freshly mended clothes and sits by one of the steaming tubs and begins cleaning them.
The aged woman indicates a channel in the floor like the one I had seen in the bathrooms, and I pour the water into it, grateful for it to be gone.
The elderly woman eyes my armor. “You should clean them.”
My cheeks redden, and I look at the floor avoiding her eyes. I nod silently; she doesn’t need to know I had already tried.
She places her hand on my arm and guides me over to one of the empty wash tubs and holds out her hand. “Pass them here, I will show you how.”
I hasten to pull off my armor, and the lady makes a grunt of disapproval at the state of my shorts as she pulls up her sleeves, revealing wrinkled and almost transparent skin. “Give yourself a quick scrub, that tub over there will be fine. Leave the clothes here I’ll start cleaning them.”
I retract my hand from my armor and hurry over to the indicated trough and give my arms, face, and legs a good scrub. My skin is pink before I decide I'm clean enough.
I make my way over to the lady and kneel beside her on a pile of stacked reeds, and she shows me how to rub the leather so it will come clean but keep its shape. I go to work, and soon others come and sit around us. Some mend clothing, others fold washing, and all of them chatter happily.
An older man with scaring across his face mends a set of well-worn trousers that looked far too small for him. “I heard the west side tunnels will be ready to access in a few weeks. Excavation is taking longer because the tunnels have to be reinforced as they go. Those Chimeras made a right real mess.”
The old woman beside me nods. “It would be faster if Lexa allowed us to help them.”
These two are the oldest humans I have ever encountered, and their hands are swollen and sore, and their movements are pained. How do they think they could help clear a cave in?
The man murmurs in agreement, “I suppose she has her reasons though. Concerned about our wellbeing and all.”
The woman scoffs, “My wellbeing, all I do is sit around and be cared for. The only time I get to help is when I sneak off here and help with the laundry. I want to be of more help.”
The man ties off the knot on the pants and sets them aside. “Eldri, you know the cost of what you are suggesting is too high. Lexa would never allow us to sacrifice ourselves in that way.”
Eldri huffs and scrubs vigorously at my leather pants. After a few moments, she pauses and looks up at the man, her face pleading. “Amder, she saved us and cares for us in more ways than I can count. We owe her more than sitting around and letting others toil for weeks over something we could achieve in a day.”
Amder sighs and holds up the pants once more, as he inspects them. “I'm sure there will come a day when Lexa will need our gifts for something others cannot achieve.”
I drop my leather tunic in surprise and slosh an impressive amount of water as my hands dive after it. Are these the elders Lexa mentioned? Curiosity burns inside of me, and there are so many questions I want to ask. I shouldn’t. Their conversation hadn’t included me and to ask something now would mean admitting I had been listening.
Eldri is looking at me with a curious expression, and I am suddenly reminded of the woman who had smiled at me after the cave in.
“Yes, that was me,” Eldri confirms.
My eyes widen, and I drop my tunic under the water for a second time. Eldri patiently retrieves it for me. I blink at her. Was that just a coincidence or did she hear my thoughts?
Amder smiles at me, revealing a missing front tooth. “Your thoughts are not a quiet as you believe they are.”
Eldri dries her hands and pats my shoulder. “It’s okay, everyone is unsettled at first.”
I gape at her, unsure of what to say. Or think for that matter.
I am rescued by Amder. “You had a question?”
I furrow my brow. I did? It’s hard to think back to what my thoughts were before I found out they were suddenly not private.
Amder smiles at me. “They are private; we can only hear what you think loudly.”
“How do I stop thinking loudly?” I blurt.
Eldri takes my armor and hangs it near an orange crystal to dry. It quickly begins to steam. “When you feel a lot of emotion behind something, you think it loudly, and we can hear you.”
Emotion. Okay. I take a slow breath and calm my racing heart. I repeat this a few times and look at the pair questioningly.
Amder bows his head. “We can’t hear you now. But feel free to ask us your question anyway.”
“What is the cost of using your gift?”
I am met with two sets of raised eyebrows. Apparently, this is not the question they had been expecting.
Amder recovers first. “We are weakened. Using our gift draws from our life force, and when used to extremes can shorten it.”
I glance at my bandaged arm, “Do you experience any strange physical changes or pains?”
I am met with silence. Eldri clears her throat, “That is not a reaction for people who are gifted.”
I stare at my boots. What does this mean? What happened to me? What do those lines mean?
Amder’s palm settles on my shoulder. “The answers you are looking for will come in time.” He holds up the mended pants. “These are for you. I can’t allow you to wear that tattered excuse for clothing any longer.”
I carefully take the pants from him and hold them close. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Well go put them on.
They won’t do you any good sitting in your hands.”
I move behind a line of drying blankets and get changed. The pants fit well and are pleasantly warm, or maybe that’s just in comparison to the shorts.
I step out from behind the sheets, and I am greeted with smiles. “That looks much better,” chirps Amder.
Eldri hands me my warm and dry leathers, and I pull them on. Surprised to find that without all the dust and grime they are actually closer in color to dark blue than the faded brown I had believed them to be. How many seasons of neglect had caused them to become that color?
“Thank you,” I say feeling giddy with all the gifts I have received in the last few hours.
“That’s alright, best you be off now. You have a big day ahead of you,” Eldri remarks.
I wave goodbye and make my way out into the hall, my mind flooded with questions. I should go find Lexa and talk to her about the events that took place during the cave in. I want to know if she understands how the necklaces behave any better than I do. I couldn’t talk to the gifted elders about my reaction without revealing how I had come across it.
I'm not sure I am ready for others to know I have a magical necklace. But Lexa might know, or at least have some theories, after all, she has a necklace. I should ask her to join me on my quest to find the other necklaces. I feel a prickle of apprehension. These people need Lexa here; how could I ask her to leave? But if my mother is right, this quest will mean a better life for everyone.
Only if you succeed, the nasty voice in my head reminds me.
Lewi runs up to me a small group of friends in tow. He tugs on my sleeve. “Claire will you be helping people again today?”
“I probably will,” I say, admiring the boys’ enthusiasm to help others. “But first I need to find some food and talk with Lexa.”
Lewi points down the hall. “The mess hall is this way!” Eagerly him, and his friends nudge me in the right direction.
His friends tumble around us and the smallest girl tugs at my hand. “You and Lexa look like super heroes.”
Shadowsoul Page 9
