Chapter 11 - Glory
Glory
XI
I woke up with grit in my eyes and a foul taste in my mouth. My head ached, my spine raged, and my muscles spasmed with shivers the moment I threw back the enchanted blanket and bared my arms to the morning chill.
I didn’t want to get up. The first two days of walking had been easy, but after carrying me so far, my feet were sore and my calves were stiff.
I also would have killed for a real meal cooked on a stove.
My stomach gurgled at the idea, and I sighed to cover it up.
We’d made it through one day together. Only twenty-seven more to go.
Sounds from outside my tent reminded me I wasn’t alone, so I rushed to get dressed before Cammon felt the need to stick his head into my personal space.
I tugged my heavy burgundy skirt over my black stockings, slid my white shirt over my black camisole and buttoned it to my chin, ensuring the buttons at my wrists were straight.
Then I finished with my waistcoat and buttoned that, feeling safer and more like myself with every closed loop.
As cumbersome as I knew my heavy clothes to be, they served as another barrier between Cammon and me, physical as well as metaphorical.
I was also certain I’d be grateful to have layers readily available once we entered dragon territory and had to climb the mountains—a part of our journey I wasn’t ready to think about yet.
After lacing my boots and scrubbing my teeth with my brush and a touch of mint powder, I stepped outside.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of a bare-backed Cammon standing next to the dark firepit, his shirt and suspenders hanging out of his breeches to drape over his hips.
My gaze went first to the red welts on his neck from the wingleaf, but as soon as I registered that the rash was healing well, I couldn’t help but notice the rest of him.
His chestnut hair was slicked back, and against my will, my eyes tracked the water droplets where they followed the line of his spine, between his shoulder blades where the muscles flexed and rippled, down into the divots above his hips.
“Like what you see?” he asked without turning around.
Confusion hit me first, followed by a spiking embarrassment when I realized he must have tasted my desire.
I scowled at his back. “Wondering if you saved any water for me, actually.”
“There might be a drop or two left in the river.” He knocked his head in the direction he’d gone to fill the small cooking pot and wash himself. With the gesture, his damp hair flopped in a messy tumble.
Annoyance flickered through me, and the tips of my fangs nicked the inside of my bottom lip.
I walked to the river to wash my face and complete my necessaries, and took the chance away from Cammon to breathe until my canines retracted.
When I returned, I channelled my emotions into taking down my tent—a much simpler task than putting it up.
Until it came to repacking it, that is, which I tried and failed to do ten times before I figured it out.
Cammon didn’t offer to help, and I didn’t ask for any, but I heard his impatience in every low huff and mutter as he stuffed his three belongings into a remarkably small pack.
“Have you figured out the next clue?” he finally asked. “If you haven’t, maybe I can work on it while you… finish that.”
I ground my teeth. “I translated enough to get an idea of where we’re going. If you’re familiar with Old Golthic, maybe you can figure out the rest?”
I’d seen his expression yesterday when I’d deciphered the clue and knew he didn’t have the first idea about interpreting the antiquated language. He must have tasted my smugness, because the next time he spoke, his tone was drier than a dusty lane.
“How about the location, then? I can at least get a head start on planning our route since we’ll be leaving late.”
The return shot hit me like a slap to the ass, and my entire body stiffened with irritation. Olodin, I disliked this man.
I paused in yet another botched attempt to bundle my tent and handed him the strip of wood that contained the clue to the next landmark. I’d spent most of my night trying to work through it, and the last line continued to stump me.
“It talks about a glade,” I said as I resumed my tent rolling. “It mentions an open field and… what might be a chasm or cave underneath it?”
“Cave? The only caves I know of are in the mountains, but we’re not close to dragon territory yet. Unless the next landmark is that far of a stretch? No, that doesn’t seem likely.”
That last bit struck me as more him thinking aloud than speaking to me, so I left him to cross-check with the maps while I strapped the final rod to the bundle and secured it to my pack.
The rest of my preparations went much more smoothly, and by the time I’d bound my tightly rolled blanket to the bottom of my bag, I was ready to go.
“I got it,” he exclaimed, and the excitement in his voice stopped me in my tracks. It was the first time I’d heard anything but grudging resignation from him since we’d left the inn.
Always wary of novelty, I approached him as I would a feral cat.
He recognized my hesitation and rolled his eyes.
“I’m not going to bite. Look.” He stretched the map across the ground and pointed to a spot quite a distance from our current location.
“See? This glade marks the divide between two forests, so there might be some symbolism in that. There’s no indication of a cavern on the map, but it’s possible there’s a cave system underground. ”
“What makes you think it’s there? Surely there are other glades nearby.”
I didn’t want to consider that he might be right. The spot he’d pointed out looked… far.
Cammon trailed his finger along the route. “The rest of your notes suggest some of the landmarks will be found in this direction. This is the only glade of significance along that route. Unless your mage is sending us on a wide detour.”
I considered what I knew of Mage Tersey. He’d hidden his amulet well, but again, he would have wanted to be able to find it. He’d created these twisted clues and landmarks for his own benefit.
My shoulders sagged. “All right then, how long before we reach it?” Especially given our late start, which I didn’t say out loud. It was my fault we were behind schedule. Well, the tent’s fault, but I didn’t think Cammon would appreciate the excuse.
He looked up at the sky, then back to the map. “We should still be able to make it there today if we keep a good pace.” His gaze dropped to my feet. “Think those boots are up for a swifter hike?”
I swallowed a groan, saying a prayer for my poor calves. “Of course.”
“Then let’s go. We’ll eat on the road.”
Day three, and my pack weighed a little heavier than it had yesterday.
The straps cut into my shoulders, and one of the tent rods jabbed into my back with every step.
Cammon’s light pack looked more appealing by the hour, but the bulk of my bag was filled with texts we might need, so it wasn’t like I could discard them.
I didn’t complain, not wanting to earn another one of Cammon’s annoyed glances, but I cursed every rock in my path and every dip in the road that turned my aching ankles.
I also held my tongue because, as I kept reminding myself, I didn’t want to talk to this man.
I didn’t want his attention anywhere near me.
It would be better if he forgot I was here.
So with every protest of my legs, I swallowed my whining and stayed close enough for him to guide me, but far enough that I could pretend I walked alone.
Clouds drifted across the sky, white and fluffy, promising nice weather while taking the brunt of the sun off our shoulders.
If I were the believing type, I might have considered it a sign that the gods had blessed our mission.
Since I wasn’t, I thanked our good luck.
Anything that kept me from overheating was a help.
“So what is it about this amulet?” Cammon asked when we closed in on midday. It was the first time either of us had spoken since we’d left camp. “Why did he need it?”
I grimaced at his wish to start a conversation but supposed offering a history lesson would be a way to pass the time.
“Mage Tersey was in a romantic relationship with a full-blooded fae. Her lifespan outstretched his by a few hundred years, so he discovered a way to keep up with her. The amulet is full of various enchantments, and although he never described in detail the specific spells involved—most of them likely horrifying and illegal—he wrote at length about how taxing it was to refill, which he had to do every time he used it.”
“All that work for a single use?” The disdain was thick in Cammon’s voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone worth that kind of effort.”
“Shocking.” I didn’t give him time to cut in with some witty repartee.
“He refilled the amulet three times before his lover died of an unspecified illness.” My chest tightened as I remembered the passage written in the mage’s shaking hand.
“He begged her to let him use the amulet on her, but she refused, accepting her time. After she died, Mage Tersey buried the amulet, wanting it available in case he needed to use it again but out of reach so he wouldn’t be tempted. In the end, he never sought it out.”
It was the closest I’d ever come to hearing a real-life love story—with the exception of my parents’, of course. I’d read those heartbreaking pages in Mage Tersey’s journal enough times to have memorized them.
Cammon scoffed. “What a fool.”
A surge of anger swept through me. “Why?”
“He chose to get involved with a woman who lives longer than he does. Instead of respecting the limitation and dying when it was his time, he performed who knows what acts of dark magic to keep himself going. It’s selfish.”
“You can’t conceive of making that kind of sacrifice to stay with the person you loved?”