Chapter 39 - Glory
Glory
XL
Hidden under my makeshift tent, nothing more than an extra blanket strung over two branches, I watched Cammon where he sat against a tree, a knife in his hands as he cleaned the dirt out from under his fingernails.
He looked so… alone. Comfortable in his aloneness, but after all the time we’d spent together, it didn’t seem right that he should be by himself.
I debated going out there, sitting beside him and reading through today’s clue together, but I was held back by the memory of his reactions throughout the day.
He’d been pushing me away, creating distance.
His absence was a cold void, but I understood what he was doing.
We’d just passed another landmark. We only had a few days until we found the amulet, and then we’d be on our way home.
Back to the real world. Maybe he was realizing it would be better to start the mental shift now.
Maybe he was right.
I leaned against my own tree and played with the slip of parchment I’d pulled from the pedestal.
It was clear Tersey hadn’t intended anyone to reach it from above.
The clue to opening the hidden compartment had been written at an awkward angle, and if we’d been standing next to it, it would have looked like gibberish.
We would have been stuck there long after the drakes had woken up and attempted to make us dinner.
Tonight, Cammon and I had proved that, working together yet again, we could get past the most creative of Tersey’s cruel little traps, and considering Cammon’s choice to begin pulling away, it was almost ironic that I’d never felt more optimistic about our success than I did right now.
I unfurled the parchment and squinted in the darkness at the four lines scribbled across the surface.
Deep in the shadows, deep in the woods, the penultimate clue lurks beneath the hood. Beware the oak, beware the pine, beware the monsters within the shrine.
I read it twice, my attention landing again and again on the single word in the middle of the horrible excuse for a rhyme. Penultimate.
We had two more stops to make, and when we solved the second, we would find the amulet waiting for us. All these days, all this stress and strain and bloodshed, and we were finally here.
So why didn’t I feel more excited about it?
I tucked the clue into my pack to discuss it with Cammon and reference the map in the morning, then lay down and pulled the blanket over my shoulder.
I may have lost most of my comforts, but at least my enchanted strip of wool had survived.
If I couldn’t cuddle an overheated demon prince, I’d have to settle for the scratchy fabric, just as I would for the rest of my long, safe, quiet life.
I closed my eyes and thought of home. Soon I’d be back to the old haunts, the old routines, the old invisibility. Soon I’d be in my library. Everything was working out as I’d hoped it would.
Everything was awful.
I woke up to stiff, sand-filled joints and a raw, scratchy throat.
When I’d woken last night feeling better, I’d been hopeful that my body had realized the bloodlust was imaginary.
Now I knew it had to have been the excitement of the hunt that had pushed my symptoms away.
With another day of only walking ahead, I had nothing to distract me from my thirst.
I emptied a flask of water, which went some way towards helping, and devoted my attention to creating a large breakfast with the scraps we had left over from the fury.
Cammon puttered around the camp. I sensed his gaze on me, and although I knew he was curious, he didn’t ask questions. Thank Olodin. The last thing I needed was him worrying about me. I would find a solution. I’d go hunting if I had to. Find some animal in the woods and drain it dry.
My mouth watered at the thought. This close to the drakes, we hadn’t seen any sign of rabbits or deer, but once we moved farther into the forest, maybe I’d get lucky.
“The map is in your pack—would you mind getting it?” I asked Cammon as I put the finishing spices on the potatoes.
Dried meat sat beside it, along with slices of tomato, hardboiled eggs, and green onion sprinkled on top.
It was far from a fancy meal, but I was proud of what I’d accomplished on my own and it would fill our stomachs for the day.
We’d have to hope we were able to hunt tonight for something to take us the rest of the way. And to keep me on my feet.
Cammon settled by my side and unrolled the map across the ground in front of us. I pulled out Tersey’s clue and pinned it down with two rocks on either side.
Cammon scanned it, and his nose wrinkled. “Ah. He’s back to his poetry, is he?”
I smirked. “Seems so. He must have had a bit more time on his hands for these last ones.”
“Time he did not devote to improving his skills.”
“Why would he have needed to? Anyone who dared to criticize him would wind up dead.”
He nudged my shoulder. “We’re still breathing.”
“True. He obviously never predicted us.” I smiled up at him, and my heart swam at the warmth I found staring back at me. Then Cammon’s expression shuttered, and he dropped his gaze to the clue. I ignored the chill that swept through me and followed his lead.
“From what I can tell, the first line tells us it’s going to be somewhere shaded—‘deep in the shadows’—and the second gives us the general location—‘in the depths of the woods.’ If we keep along this road, that suggests the next clue is located somewhere in here.
” I circled my finger around the middle of the large forests that separated the peaks from the harbour.
“Hardly narrows it down, does it?”
“That’s where the next line comes in. ‘Beneath the hood.’”
“Which means…”
I frowned. “I was hoping you might have some idea, because I don’t know.”
“The bastard was trying to force his rhyme. It might not be significant at all.”
For all of Tersey’s faults, I couldn’t believe that was true. He was too obsessed with tiny details. The rhyme might be forced, but if it was in the clue, it had to be important.
I squinted at the map, taking in the tiny writing identifying the important landmarks along our route. Could there be a section of the forest that looked vaguely cloak-shaped? Or maybe there was a known nest of falcons and it was a reference to the court’s training equipment? A hundred years ago.
Or maybe—
“Widow’s Hood,” Cammon interrupted, his finger dropping onto the map on the edge of the area I’d identified. “It’s some kind of hill by the looks of it. This valley is full of them, and some are important enough to have names.”
“‘Beneath the hood.’ Under the hill?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time he sent us underground. It would explain the shadows as well.”
I read the next set of lines. “‘Beware the oak, beware the pine, beware the monsters within the shrine.’ It must be a monument of some kind. A place to pay homage to the gods?”
“Of course there are monsters.”
I didn’t want to think about what kind we might face. “And why do we have to beware the trees?”
Cammon sat back on his heels and rubbed his brow. “I’ve heard rumours about the forests in this area. I’m surprised you haven’t.”
I scoffed. “About how they can move? I’ve heard the stories, of course, but never put stock in them. Trees have deep roots. It’s how they don’t fall over. How can they just get up and walk around?”
“Do you remember where the myth began?”
I crossed my arms, offended that he believed he knew more of history than I did.
“According to the books, there was a magical war that took place around here. So much magic was expelled, it sank into the soil and gave life to the surviving trees. They now guard the forest and woe to anyone who attempts to harm their children. It’s a folktale. ”
Cammon lifted an eyebrow. “How much about this trip did you expect? How much has taken you by surprise? Do you really want to start living in denial now?”
I stared at him. Then scowled. “Fine. We’ll be on guard for walking trees and whatever other monsters are out there. Olodin’s bookcases, I can’t wait to get home and away from all this nonsense. Give me a city street where things are what I expect them to be.”
Cammon’s expression darkened as he pushed himself to his feet and rolled up the map. “You know as well as I do that city streets are no safer than these woods, Buttons. They might be more familiar, but you face more threats there than here.”
What was he doing? Trying to make me afraid to go home? What other choice did I have? My friend was there, my mum, my job. After finally earning the freedom of my library, I wasn’t sure how well I’d cope living under a mountain with the rest of the vampires.
“Only if people know what I am,” I reminded him, trying to rein in my frustration. “Not that I spend much time in the streets. As long as my secret holds, there’s nowhere more secure than my apartment and the royal library. I’ll be safe as houses. Safer than you’ll be in your demon court.”
“I’ll have a whole flight of guards watching my back. You’ll be on your own.” Something flickered in his eyes, there and gone too quickly for me to name. Then he kicked his head towards the camp. “Let’s pack up and get moving. It’s at least three days to this hill.”
I did as he said, wondering about his comment and his reaction as we got ready to go and started along the path.
Without discussing it, we took the route that directed us away from the drakes.
It would add half a day to our journey, but it would be better than winding up in a fight we’d struggle to win.
The day started fine, but once we moved into afternoon, the rain began.
A thick, cold rain that clung to my skin and soaked into my bones, and the effort required to stay warm sapped me of my energy.
I emptied my second water flask by late afternoon, and by evening, my stomach churned with nausea, my legs were weak, and my muscles screamed at me with every step. I needed food. I needed blood.