Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
B y early afternoon, the mist had let up to reveal a beautiful blue sky. It wasn’t summer heat by any means, but a soft winter blush of sun that wore at my skin and made sweat trickle down my spine.
We were north of the castle, in some old forgotten cemetery. Tombstones and graves were left to sink deep into the earth, some barely legible as moss overgrew across the names etched into the stone. Romy was currently sat at the base of a crumbling angel, who had one wing remaining and a face half-rotten from time and weather. I imagined this place was once beautiful, in its own right. Before Hekate claimed the land as hers and turned it into a bloody battlefield.
‘If I liked men, I’d be fighting you for him,’ Romy said as I ambled over to her. My boots were completely sodden with mud and my legs aching from the hours of walking circles around the castle. I leaned against a slanting stone cross, silently apologising to the corpse it belonged to.
‘It wouldn’t be much of a fight,’ I said, catching Arwyn in the distance as he continued his surveying of the area. He hadn’t let up all day. Anyone would think we were looking for something he had lost, an item of great importance, not some hunch I had about magical boundary stones.
‘Are we lying to each other now, or are you just stupid?’
I pulled a face, pretending I didn’t know what she was getting at, when really I did. ‘How could you possibly think I’m capable of stupidity?’ I mocked horror, plastering my hand over my heart.
‘Oh, shut up. Hector, you barely look anywhere but in his direction.’
I shot the man in question a side-eyed look. ‘ Now who’s the one lying.’
‘Hector, you’re looking at him right now.’
Shit . ‘No, I was just… I mean…’ Double shit. I sighed. ‘I was, wasn’t I.’
Romy rolled her eyes, huffing a heavy breath. ‘Please, for the sake of my sanity, just kiss each other.’
The thought, although pleasant, made my skin crawl. ‘No can do. I’m saving my first kiss for someone special.’
Romy kicked her legs, not bothering to hide how humourous she’d found me. ‘As if you’ve never kissed anyone.’
‘Fucked, yes. Kissed, no.’ How did I explain that the last person that kissed me was my mother? I already hardly remembered her voice, her scent, her personality—holding onto my kiss-virginity was sacred to me.
But admitting aloud that I was twenty-six and a mouth-virgin? Hell, I was tragic.
‘Well, suit yourself. Fuck Arwyn, you both practically do it anyway. With your eyes, that is. A little bit of excitement. I mean what is more romantic than getting some action whilst we’re all stuck here for the month?’
‘Romy, are you unwell?’
‘No, but he is.’ Romy cocked her head in Arwyn’s direction. I spun around to find his eyes on me. Arwyn didn’t bother to hide that he was watching me. Damn him for proving Romy right. ‘He wants it, bad .’
I nudged her legs, almost sending Romy off kilter. She pinwheeled her arms, barking a laugh as she caught herself. Arwyn chuckled too, then turned his attention back to his search.
‘If you’re this bored, I could find something else to occupy that imagination of yours.’
Romy pouted her blush lips, offering me a wink. ‘Trust me, this imagination is beyond salvation.’
‘Clearly.’
Now Romy mentioned it, I realised I had been looking at Arwyn more than could ever be considered normal. I was self-conscious about it. Catching myself in the quiet moments, eyes lingering on Arwyn’s form, or how his fingers dug old soil and moss from graves in search of anything even similar to runes. Arwyn stood from his crouch before a gravestone and lifted his black t-shirt up clear the sweat across his forehead.
‘Fuck my life,’ Romy said beside me, speaking my inner thoughts aloud.
Arwyn was built by Hekate herself. Mounds of muscles made up his tight stomach, leading down to a prominent V-shape at his hips. My eyes continued going south until the band of his trousers stopped me. Actually, it was the flick of his fingers at his belt, gesturing upwards, which stopped me.
‘Eyes up here,’ Arwyn called, his irritating smirk all-knowing. ‘I thought you’d have learned from last time.’
‘Last time?’ Romy hissed at my side.
I ignored her, choosing silence and feigning ignorance.
Before the flush of embarrassment could stain my cheeks red, I pushed to standing and paced over to him. Romy’s light-hearted giggles followed behind me. ‘Find anything, or do we call it a day?’
‘Why, has your break finished?’ Arwyn said, weaving around the gravesites as I trailed like a lost puppy.
‘No one was stopping you from taking a break,’ I said, pretending to focus on the area around me when my mind was replaying the view of his stomach over and over.
‘I was stopping myself,’ Arwyn replied. ‘Breaks are earned, and we haven’t found a hint of what we’re looking for yet. Until we do, I’ll not stop.’
‘You’re determined,’ I said.
‘I am.’
I should’ve bitten down on my tongue, stopping myself from saying something incriminating. But that wasn’t something I was known for. ‘I’m not your responsibility, Arwyn.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Arwyn slowed to pace beside me.
‘Back in the room, you said that I was your priority. I’m not.’
‘Responsibility and priority are two different things, Hector. You should know that.’ Arwyn lifted a finger up and pointed ahead of us. ‘Looks like mother nature was hiding something from us.’
‘Don’t try and distract me,’ I added, frustrated with how easily Arwyn could take control of a conversation away from me. Funny, because that was exactly what Arwyn was—a healthy distraction. But right now, I wanted to have it out. ‘We’re strangers. Yes, we’ve been forced to get closer because of the stakes we’re facing, but that doesn’t mean I’m anything to you beyond a rival. Competition.’
Arwyn looked at me, one dark brow raised. It was less an inquisitive expression and more one of amusement. ‘If you say so.’
‘I do say so,’ I snapped.
‘Then, if we are out for one another, you won’t care that I’ve found something.’ Without taking his eyes from mine, he called for Romy. ‘Over here, Romy.’
‘Coming,’ came her distant reply, followed by a thud as she jumped down from the angel she lounged on.
‘This conversation isn’t over,’ I warned.
‘I hope it isn’t,’ Arwyn replied.
Romy came racing over just as Arwyn left me, dumfounded and frozen to the spot. His ease and confidence were disarming. And yet why did it warm the lower parts of my groin? Attraction to him was like a far-off ache I attempted to keep at bay, to no avail.
I’d put it down to exhaustion, but that really would’ve been a lie.
‘What have we found then? Romy asked as she skipped to our side.
‘ We haven’t found anything,’ I replied, nodding towards Arwyn who stood before a wall of ivy. ‘He did.’
The ivy rose before him, violently green and overwhelming. It first looked like some overgrown shrub, until he reached up, grasped a vine by the hand and pulled. What peeled away was a layer of greenery, root, and dried vine, revealing smooth stone beneath.
‘What ominous graveyard doesn’t have a haunted looking mausoleum?’ Romy asked, grimacing as she took a step back. ‘Clearly that thing was meant to be hidden by nature. Let’s leave it and the ghosts inside alone, shall we?’
‘After what we’ve faced so far, a few ghosts shouldn’t bother us,’ Arwyn said, pulling more vines down until a worn, dark wooden door was revealed. It was locked with bindings of rusted chain looped over and over, tangled amongst the iron handles.
‘That’s a rather intense binding,’ I said, feeling the weight of the chains in my palm. Each knot was bigger than my hand. Rust came away on my fingers, as did the smell of age and musk.
‘Clearly those chains are meant to keep whatever is in there…in.’ Romy stepped back, hands raised in surrender.
‘Or to keep us out,’ I added.
‘If that is what I think it is, I’ve found our rune,’ Arwyn cocked his head towards the stone wall above the door. And there, etched into the stone was a deep grove, was a singular rune shape. A diagonal line sliced through what looked to be a letter P.
I pulled Eleanor’s grimoire from my pocket and flicked through the pages until I got to the right one. My eyes roamed over the page, searching for the meaning of the rune.
‘Safe travels,’ I said, double checking it against what was before me, ‘that’s what the rune correlates to.’
‘Only further proof that it suggests what is inside isn’t safe,’ Romy added.
‘Actually, what it suggests is we have a little journey ahead of us,’ Arwyn replied, tugging on the chains which rattled loudly. ‘I don’t suppose you have a spell to open locked doors in there, do you?’
‘We’ll need old magic for that.’ I rolled my shoulders, glad for an excuse to use my Gift. ‘And I have something better.’
I didn’t need a mirror to know my eyes flashed with their silver band. It felt good to exercise my power. There was little encouragement required for it to rise to the call. I wrapped it around the cords of chains, binding myself to the metal like invisible hands reaching out. Then, with a dramatic pull, my power tore the chains free, allowing them to slither to the steps beyond the mausoleum like exhausted snakes.
‘Show off,’ Arwyn whispered, sweeping his hand before him. ‘After you.’
‘Such a gentleman,’ I bit back.
‘No way, no. Not happening.’ Romy had her arms crossed, shaking her head. ‘You both go, have fun, by all means knock yourself out. I’ll happily be out here, in the daylight, leaving the dead in peace, thank you very much.’
I opened my mouth, ready to give a lecture on why it wasn’t safe to separate, but Romy stopped me with a glare.
‘Don’t even try it,’ Romy added. ‘I’m more than capable of looking after myself. I’d go so far to say I’m better off facing fresh flesh then rotten skin.’
‘Point taken.’ I’d seen Romy’s Gift first handed. ‘Just shout if you need us.’
‘Trust me when I say, it’ll be the shout of the idiot who tries me today. Their scream will be what alerts you to any issues.’ Romy brushed leaves from the step outside the mausoleum with her boot, then took a seat. ‘Go have fun. Don’t rush back for my sake.’
I noticed Arwyn was awfully quiet, offering no help with convincing Romy to join us. He either knew not to question her ability to look after herself, or he liked the concept of being alone…with me. I told myself it was the first option, as the second would stop me from going inside as well.
Blue light stole my attention as Arwyn conjured a ball of fire in his outstretched hand. He extended it into the cavernous dark beyond the door, which opened with a groan. He didn’t notice Romy’s suggestive wink, but I did. I turned my back on her, beginning to believe her fear of ghosts was fabricated as a ploy to get me alone with Arwyn.
It worked.
The air was dank inside the mausoleum. Sconces clung to crumbling stone walls, more home for spiders and their webs than fire. Arwyn was cautious where he walked, testing the ground before putting his weight on it. His azure-hued flames banished the shadows away, revealing a raised burial vault in the centre of the space. Beside it, there was nothing else to suggest anything of importance. It was simply a stone room with the dead at its heart.
‘Looks like our travel has come to an end,’ I said, voice echoing around me. Beside the distant drip of water, this place was lacking sound. And yet it seemed to seal us away from the outside world. ‘Should we turn?—’
‘Just because something isn’t interesting to look at, doesn’t suggest there isn’t something interesting to find.’ Arwyn walked around the vault, hand lifted towards the sides. From the satisfied sigh he gave, Arwyn found what he was looking for. He stopped and flashed me a winning grin. ‘Come have a look at this.’
I did as he asked, pacing towards him, aware of how he watched my every move. His finger pointed towards yet another rune mark which had been worn into the stone. This one was small and faint, as though a fingernail had created it. Unease itched over my damp skin at the thought. I found the page in the grimoire, leaning closer to Arwyn to utilise his conjured light. If I hadn’t been so focused on searching for the rune and its meaning, I might’ve paid more attention to how cold his fire was.
‘Thurisaz,’ I said, tracing my nail beneath the explanation. ‘Defence, conflict, and caution. Seems like another warning.’
‘It does.’ Arwyn stood up, forcing me to do the same. ‘Are you frightened of the dark?’
What kind of question was that? ‘Not at all.’
‘Good.’ That was about as much of a warning as I got before his flames retreated. The heavy blanket of shadow enveloped me, giving the impression of a world falling from view. Removing a sense made the others stronger. And here, I was acutely aware of the ground beneath my feet and the pressure of moisture in the air against my skin.
‘How about now?’ Arwyn’s voice came out of nowhere, yet filled the mausoleum as though only he mattered. It made placing him in the dark impossible.
‘No,’ I said, although my voice hitched in up in pitch.
Arwyn shuffled closer, evident only from the brush of air against my face. I blinked rapidly, wishing to make out some shapes in the dark. But it was impossible. He felt close yet far, unreachable, and still I dared move my arms to test that theory.
‘Are you certain?’
‘Yes’ I stumbled back a step as his voice was suddenly inches before me. Part of me longed to rear my head back and smash it forwards into his nose again. But what I wanted compared to what my body would do were two complete opposite things. ‘Why? Are you trying to frighten me? Is that the game you’re playing?’
‘Who knows what game I’m playing anymore, Hector.’
My back pressed into stone ledge of the vault, preventing me from going anywhere else. Finally, my arms obeyed me and rose, hands held out. They pressed into the hard warmth of a body. Arwyn was leaning into me, the weight of his torso impossible to fight against. Did I want to fight against it? The answer was not as simple as yes or no.
‘I’m here to find answers, not play games with you,’ I whispered, not wanting to ruin the stillness of the moment.
‘Do you remember, back in the stable, what you asked I do?’
I couldn’t see Arwyn’s arms but, by Hekate, I felt them on either side of my body. He placed them on the top of the vault, leaning into them, keeping his body over mine. My hands were trapped between us, keeping our torsos from touching.
My heart dropped, knowing exactly what Arwyn was referring to. ‘I had a lot of mead to drink. Hell knows what we spoke about.’
Arwyn leaned in closer. ‘Don’t pretend with me.’
Inhaling, all I could smell was him. Notes of bergamot and cedar-wood, powerful enough to bury the age of the mausoleum. This man didn’t only look like a god, but he smelled like a candle that would cost a minimum of fifty pounds. Romy was right—he truly was luxurious.
‘I’m not.’
‘Then I gather you no longer care for the answer?’
I could lie. Continue pretending that I didn’t care what he did instead of making love. I was confident that my imagination had already filled in the blanks. But there was an allure to hearing him say the words. It felt as though I was back in Oxford, in some dark club, pressed against the man who’d be taking me home for the night.
‘What are you doing, Arwyn?’
I closed my eyes, picturing his mouth close to mine, the image crystal clear in my mind. I longed to cringe at the thought, but it made me lean into him more.
‘I do love hearing you say my name.’ Arwyn’s whisper came directly next to my ear. His cool breath danced across my skin, making me tilt my head to the side, as though I was exposing my neck to some famished vampire.
‘Answer my question,’ I said, nerves bubbling in my chest.
‘I think I’ll disappoint you with my answer.’
What followed was the shifting of stone behind me. A hiss of stale, ancient air as the lid of the vault slid open beneath our joined weights. It became clear what Arwyn’s answer was. This whole performative display was simply freeing his hands from the fire, to push open the fucking lid of the coffin.
I could’ve melted into a pathetic puddle of pathetic flesh and pathetic blood.
Arwyn drew back and conjured his ball of flame once again. I winced against the blue-light, wondering if it deepened the shadows of disappointment on my face. He was regarding me with a smug smile, which faltered when my eyes sang with silver.
‘Don’t do that again,’ I warned.
‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ Arwyn asked softly, amused by the entire charade. ‘Or don’t want?’
‘Fuck around and find out,’ I snapped, turning back to the now open vault. He was so distracting. No, Arwyn was something more. He was disarming . I didn’t even contemplate the chance of a corpse being behind us when my mind was full of him, my clothes imprinted with his scent.
What waited beneath the stone lid was far from a dead body. ‘Stairs?’ I said aloud, questioning the universe more than anyone else.
Arwyn stepped up behind me, placed a hand on the small of my back and urged me forwards. ‘Thank Hekate you’re not scared of the dark. It seems we’re both about to be well acquainted with it.’
I fought the urge to withdraw back outside, pretend this vault was never here. Hekate only knew what lingered deep in the dark, and I imagined it wasn’t as welcoming as Caym.
Caym. That was why I was here. Testing the theory of old magic and finding a way to get Caym inside the hallowed grounds of the Trial.
That reminder alone narrowed my focus. I stepped aside, feeling every inch of his long fingers as they were forced to slip off my back. ‘You first, Arwyn. Unless you’re the one who is frightened of the dark.’
Arwyn looked between the stairs that led down into the belly of the vault and smiled to himself. ‘Oh, believe me, it’s the light which terrifies me.’
Then with that he climbed over the vault and began his descent, leaving me to ponder the meaning behind such a strange answer.