32. Drusilla #2
Turning from the spectacle and the memories it sparked, she follows him as they start along the path again.
He takes them through a thicker part of the forest, flitting between tree trunks and leaping over wild roots.
Eventually, the forest opens up again, gravel and dirt turning into larger rocks and pebbles.
At the end of the path, a short ridge stands in their way. In the distance, she swears she recognizes the persistent sound of a waterfall but doesn’t see any nearby.
Wordlessly, Marcus approaches the wall and steps into the first natural foothold, and then the next, grasping onto the thick vines growing out of the rock. His back muscles flex around his tunic, his calves contracting inside his sandals.
Once he’s halfway up, he looks over his shoulder and holds out his hand for her to take.
This had better be worth it , she thinks, grabbing his hand and following in his footsteps.
She pays attention to every single place she puts her hands, testing each foothold before pushing herself up.
They did plenty of climbing training at the Faithless, and she didn’t care for it then, either.
But it’s easier than she thought it would be.
Her fingers dig into the rock until she reaches the roots, thick and sturdy in her grasp.
Marcus reaches the top first; he offers his hand to help her again but she ignores it, climbing up the last part on her own. The sound of rushing water grows louder, mist clinging to her skin and hair.
Marcus places a steadying hand on her back and she tries not to focus on the heat emanating from it. “Welcome to the Cascate.”
Dru’s eyes widen at the sight before her, her breath catching.
A beautifully complex system of pools and waterfalls fills the wide valley below them, separated by thick groves of trees.
Similar to the ones they trotted across during the race, each pool is connected by the constant flow of the waterfalls, eventually reaching the sea in the distance.
Dru glances behind them at the Scabroso mountains, a few gentle wisps of clouds settled over the top.
She turns back when Marcus’s hand leaves the small of her back. Having already removed his belt, he grasps the back of his tunic and pulls it over his head, revealing the thick, sinuous muscles beneath. Dru stares, breath halting in her chest as her hands ache from not touching him.
Mouth dry, she swallows. “Marcus, what are you?—”
Gripping the tunic and belt in his hand, he spares her a glance, winks, and then leaps off.
A gasp escapes from her mouth as Marcus dives through the air and plunges into the pool below. She peers over the edge as the blue-green water surges around him, engulfing his entire body. He swims beneath the surface of the water toward the shallow end before finally resurfacing.
Tossing his wet hair back and raising his hands in the air, he whoops. His voice echoes deeply along the rocks, his joy so infectious that laughter bubbles out of Dru. She rarely sees him truly happy—a deep fluttering fills her chest.
“Your turn,” Marcus yells, waving her on with his soaking wet tunic.
A challenge . A part of her wants to do the opposite, just to spite him. But she needs to let go of petty things when it comes to Marcus. To do as Ovi would’ve done: live each day like it’s her last .
And… she wants to spend what could be her last day on this earth with Marcus.
She pulls her tunic over her head, gripping it in her hand like Marcus did, and leaps off the edge.
The clear water comes at her fast—she barely has time to open her mouth and scream before her feet hit the surface.
Her body plummets deep into the pool, the cold water coursing over her head.
She doesn’t come up for air right away, allowing her body to float.
A calming quiet consumes her, silencing her thoughts.
She remains there for a moment to revel in it.
Once she begins to feel a slight pinch in her chest, she kicks her feet and rises to the surface. She throws her head back as she breaks through, flinging her heavy hair behind her.
The water dribbles down her face, refreshing after the run they took. In fact, she feels better than she has in years, perhaps as good as she did when she first took her oaths. How strange .
Catching her breath, she finds Marcus at the other end, near the shore.
His tunic and belt have been laid out to dry on a flat rock, the sun barely reaching the rough edge of it.
He stands knee-deep in the water, waiting for her.
She has to work not to stare openly at his chest, at the way the muscles beneath his stomach carve inward.
“What’s so special about this place?” she asks, slowly kicking toward him until her sandaled feet find purchase on the rocky bottom.
He tucks his chin, shaking his head and biting the center of his bottom lip. Her heart skips inside her chest. “Was that view not enough?”
“Not enough for you to bring me all this way,” she argues.
He chuckles, running a hand through his dark, wet hair. “Well, you’ll have to be patient, won’t you?”
Water glistens on his torso as the sun breaches the pool, turning his skin gold.
You’ve been staring at him for too long , she tells herself and meets his gaze .
“Patient for what?”
“You’ve never been good at waiting—I shouldn’t have expected any different.” He cocks his head. “Come closer, and I’ll show you.”
She wades the rest of the way to him, heart hammering inside her chest. A slight smile curls his lips, his gaze open and inviting, and so unlike the Marcus she knew.
The Marcus who trained her worked himself to the bone, keeping his head down and enjoying little else.
Now it’s as if their roles have reversed.
Standing before him, she feels a little exposed only wearing a wrap around her chest and the small shorts she wore in the maze that Sabina had to wash the blood out of. He doesn’t say a word about it, even attempting to avert his gaze.
Instead, he grasps her shoulders and turns her around so she faces the half-dozen waterfalls. She tempers her intake of breath at the contact, his hands hot on her cold shoulders.
The water rushes down from the pool above, the mist obscuring the air around them.
The rock formations on either side appear to float above the pool, carved out by the constant surge of water flowing beneath it.
Bright green trees line the edges, a few of their long limbs reaching over the top of the falls.
He steps closer to her, his chest pressing against her back. She folds her arms loosely beneath her chest and clenches her hands into fists, fighting against the overwhelming need to turn around, her core clenching.
Bending down slightly, he murmurs into her ear. “Wait for the sun to hit the water.”
But she can barely see more than a few feet in front of her, so focused on Marcus’s proximity. She shivers at his nearness, his hands and chest warming her. The heat moves to her chest, then her stomach, and lower until it aches.
The moment the sun hits the water, though, she forgets about Marcus. Light green and blue crystals she didn’t notice before light up beneath the surface near the falls, sparkling as if they’ve captured the sunlight inside them .
“What are they?”
He hums into her ear, “Idocrase crystals.”
“How?” she breathes.
“It’s a phenomenon where the salt from the sea—pumped in by a natural tube stretching all the way to the ocean during high tide—has formed the crystals over hundreds of years.
Durevolian legend tells of them healing people, of the sick and injured being brought to this pool and coming out new again. ”
He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling against her. “Nowhere else in the world holds such a sacred place; the Imperium would try to invade Anziano for this reason alone.”
Her mouth hangs open, words escaping her. For Marcus to bring her here to this place, to share this secret with her…
“How did you discover it?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Cato told me about it, though he said few could actually find it.”
She smiles, though he can’t see it. “You went looking for it just to prove him wrong, didn’t you?”
He chuckles, the sound rumbling through her. “Of course. He was so smug about it.”
Laughing softly, Dru finds herself leaning back into him, so comfortable in his presence. Marcus, in turn, shifts his hands away from her shoulders and wraps them around her, crossing one over her upper chest and the other grasping her arm over her midsection.
Everywhere he touches feels as if it’s on fire, spreading quickly through her veins. He draws her closer, his fingertips curling along her forearm. Taking a stuttered breath as he leans down again, his lips couldn’t be any closer to touching the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder.
She turns her head slightly and places a hand on his arm across her chest, wondering what he’s waiting for. Why he won’t kiss her even though he clearly wants to.
When he brushes his lips against her neck, barely a whisper of a touch, she gasps. Her grip around his arm tightens and she turns her head toward him .
Before she can think, he extricates his arms from her and steps away so quickly that she nearly falls backward into the water.
Confused, she whirls on him, but he won’t look her in the eye. Hiding his face with his wet hair, he heads for his tunic, which hasn’t had nearly enough time to dry in the sun, and throws it back over his head.
“We should go, before it gets too late.”
“We have the whole day, Marcus,” she argues. “And we left before the sun rose.”
He still won’t meet her gaze. “Cato will be wondering where we’ve gone.”
Another excuse.
“Cato’s with his mother.” She softens her voice. “What’s wrong?”
“I just need to get back, that’s all,” he says, impatience rising in his voice. “My guards might need me.”
“That’s a poor excuse and you know it.” Her own frustration surges. “When will you stop hiding things from me?”
He snaps his jaw shut, confirming he’s hiding plenty from her and will continue to do so. Though he divulged one secret, a dozen more remain left untold.
She throws her soaking tunic that somehow fell out of her grasp into the water back over her head and marches up to him, which isn’t easy to do given most of her legs remain in the pool.
“I know I said before that I don’t need to know everything you’re planning, that I trust you.
But things are more complicated and dangerous now, and I don’t like being left in the dark. ”
He watches her in silence, his stare cold and unfeeling. She hates how much that look breaks her heart, that she let him bury so deep under her skin.
When he stalks off, he leaves her no other choice but to follow.