Chapter 21 - Glory
Glory
XXI
That night, I enjoyed the best sleep I’d had in as long as I could remember.
For a blessed change, I wasn’t working to hide my secrets, my body was exhausted from pushing as hard as it had, and Cammon had set up my tent to such perfection that even if I hadn’t been tired, I wouldn’t have been able to resist its pull.
The next morning, I rose with the sun, feeling refreshed and eager to get moving, and although Cammon had offered to carry my pack again, I had no trouble with it.
Which was good, because I’d caught the twitch in the corner of his eye after he’d asked.
It had been the bond urging him to be kind, and I had no wish to force his hand.
The morning sun was warm without being stifling, and the breeze was sweet and scented with midsummer flowers. I didn’t know what power had worked its magic overnight, but its touch was all over me—and inside me.
For all the lightness of my surroundings, the greatest change I noticed was how relaxed I was around Cammon.
More so than I’d ever been around anyone, except Ashara and my parents.
My secrets were out with him, and he hadn’t turned on me.
He’d seen me at my worst. He’d tolerated my historical ramblings and appreciated them.
Although I knew none of it could be trusted and he might go back to being a needling ass once the effects of the bite faded, the experience was so outside my usual that I couldn’t help but revel in it.
My parents had always loved me and watched over me, and Ashara was the best friend a hidden vampire could ask for, always having my back, but in a world of so many people, it was nice to have more than two looking out for me.
Especially for it to be someone like Cammon, who had every reason to think badly of me.
With a reminder to myself not to get used to it, I savoured this glimmer of happiness as we made our way down the road in the direction of the next signpost.
We’d spent some time over dinner going through the clue, specifically the section written in Oceal, but the more I’d picked at it, the less it made sense. I was pretty sure there was mention of rocks along with the river or ravine, but I couldn’t wrap my head around what Tersey was getting at.
My good mood wilted when midday arrived and we hadn’t come across any sign of a scraggly man by the road. The temperature had climbed, with few trees close enough to the road to keep the sun off our heads, and I removed my waistcoat to encourage a breeze to flow through my cotton shirt.
When we reached our second fork of the day, I stopped short.
“What is it?” Cammon asked, immediately on edge.
“We should have found something by now. None of the other signposts were so spaced out.” I slid my pack from my shoulders, pulled out the map, and dropped down on the side of the road to spread the parchment across the dirt.
“What if we missed our turn? What if we’ve gone past it and we need to backtrack?
If we have to return to the last signpost and start over, we’ll be days behind—not to mention back in shifter territory and under threat of another attack.
What if something in the map changed? What if there was a road that doesn’t exist anymore?
We’ve been lucky so far, but it’s been a hundred years. What if—”
Cammon snatched the map away from me, cutting me off.
I looked up at him, prepared to blast him for not taking this seriously, but the expression on his face stole my breath, all compassion and understanding, if lined with gentle amusement.
“We’re not lost.” He rolled up the map and tucked it into my bag, and I rose to my feet.
“We’ve been out here for a week, and you haven’t led us astray yet.
” He stroked his fingers up my arms and rested his hands on my shoulders. “You should trust yourself more.”
My stomach danced under the intensity of his stare.
I felt pinned beneath it, as though he were looking past the facade I showed the world and speaking to my very soul.
I caught myself swaying towards him, heading straight for his lips, and pulled away with a silent curse.
His demonic charm was just as powerful as our new-forged bond.
A dual blade poised right at my hormones.
I would not fall under their spell no matter how strong the charge between us.
“Okay. You’re right. I won’t panic. Yet. But let’s keep our eyes open, all right? We can’t afford to waste time.”
Turning my back on him, I pulled my pack on and took the fork to the left, relying on my memory of the map to guide me.
Because Cammon was right again. To a point.
We knew where we were heading, and there were only so many routes we could follow to get there.
Mage Tersey would have been limited by the same roads, the same risks.
As long as I kept my finger on the pulse of his decision-making, we would stay on track.
And what did it matter if we took our time to find the next signpost?
A little delay while I recovered, while we found our footing after being chased and forging this new bond, wouldn’t ruin anything for either of us.
Just possibly the loss of my dreams and my future as a hidden relic in the king’s library.
Nothing to worry about whatsoever.
We passed the rest of the day without any indication that we were getting closer to our next goal, and as a result my sleep that night was abysmal. I was up early to get moving, determined to find something before midday.
“If we don’t see evidence of that halfway point today, we’re going back,” I said, ignoring Cammon’s attempts to reassure me. “I’m not losing myself in the middle of nowhere for nothing. We can go back to the last campsite at the very least.”
I’d spent most of my time before my failed attempt at sleep scouring the maps and the notebooks.
I read over the clue a million times, and each reading gave me reason to believe we were going the right way, but every step we took without finding anything made me doubt my research abilities.
I was a failure. A novice. What right did I have to want the most prestigious position within the royal library? I was a nobody.
“Will you please stop?” Cammon’s hand curled around mine, and he pulled me against his side. At the contact, my heart skipped a beat, and I forced myself to stay still so I didn’t sway towards him. My attraction was nothing but a physical response and could be ignored.
“Stop what?”
“I have no idea what you’re thinking, but by the self-loathing I taste pouring off you, it’s nothing kind.”
The comment surprised me, and the same nudge that had pushed me to dig through stacks of dusty, mildewed books to find more information about Tersey’s amulet urged me to ask, “Are emotions that distinctive? What does self-loathing taste like?”
As though Cammon recognized that he’d tapped into my academic instincts, he smirked and replied, “Foul. It’s spoiling my breakfast.”
“What do other emotions taste like?” I pressed, happy to jump on this new line of questioning as a distraction, however temporary, from my own incompetence. “Anger?”
He canted his head and sidestepped a sprout of weeds growing from the middle of the lane. “Spicy. Like a hot meal. But the quality changes depending on the source of the anger. Righteous fury, hate-filled rage. There are nuances. Some are more appetizing than others.”
I hopped over a few stones that had fallen free of the rock face that stood along our left side. “Grief?”
“Not an enjoyable one. It has a thickness to it. Cloying. It tastes a bit… herbal. Like a too-strong tea. I avoid that one as much as I can.”
I’d had no idea this was the way demons experienced the world. No wonder we didn’t have that many in Golthwaine. To be under constant assault of other people’s emotions sounded exhausting. Even if they did feed off us, it was surely better to be somewhere they could control the intake.
“How do you feed in Karhasan?” I asked, only appreciating after the question was out that it might be a sensitive subject. After all, he hadn’t been home in a decade, and being pushed to think of his revoked crown might not put him in a good mood.
Sure enough, he was quiet for a few moments, clearly lost in thought, though he hid it behind his attempts to navigate a low-hanging tree.
I tried to use the bond to figure out what he was feeling, but the only emotions I could place were my own.
Yesterday, I’d sensed him so clearly, but I must have acclimatized to our connection.
Which was a good thing, I told myself. A person’s emotions should be private.
Without the insight of the bond, I tried to read Cammon’s face. The pinch of longing around his eyes, the bob of his throat.
I expected him not to answer, but finally he said, “There are always humans in Karhasan. Most by choice, but some are my father’s prisoners.
The willing humans tend to keep to the homes of their sponsors until they’re needed, and then their emotions are triggered based on the appetites of the group they’re with.
The prisoners are brought up whenever and fed on until they’re drained. ”
I listened, intent and fascinated. This was more than I’d learned about the demon’s country in all my years of reading.
They were a notoriously reclusive race, almost as much as the fae, and based on this, I understood why.
My human half veered towards unnerved, but that faint repulsion was drowned out by my historian’s interest in devouring all knowledge of other people’s cultures and customs without judgement.
“Sponsors? That sounds so formal.”
Cammon stiffened and cast his gaze beyond the rock face, then relaxed. I followed the path of his attention but saw nothing except more rock and more trees.