Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Nightmares
Ihear Cressida when she slips out of the water, but I close my eyes and linger as long as I possibly can.
By the time I force myself from the pool, my hands are wrinkled, and the glow moss overhead has deepened to a dark purple that must be the Tǎnkaski’s second cycle. I dress and towel my hair dry.
As I step into the tunnel, I sense the familiar feeling of the shadows watching me.
It feels like home, like stepping back into Eztia sub-cavern with Ilunahēi'àn watching over me, strangely comforting, and then I see the familiar outline of Caius’ broad frame.
He stands with his back to me, the posture familiar, with his arms folded over his chest, just as he did every morning when he waited for me outside the baths to start our work.
“What are you doing here, Caius?” And why am I always asking him this?
He turns his head and peers down at me. “I thought you would need someone to show you the way to your lodgings.”
I worry my bottom lip, trying to hide my disappointment.
After Cressida whisked me away, I had hoped that I might get a chance to talk with Rui alone.
I know I said no distractions until after the hatching grounds, but…
it was a silly thought, anyway. He obviously has an important role here.
Why would he be waiting in the baths for a strange woman he found in a crag?
Caius’ eyes turn stormy, as if he can read my thoughts. “I sent Rui on his way.”
Heat races under my skin at the insinuation.
Was I so easy to read? I roll my eyes and stomp ahead of Caius.
Once we exit the tunnels to the baths, I relent and let Caius take the lead.
He walks slowly as he steps out onto the first rope bridge, confident and purposeful.
I know what he’s doing when he slows. It’s for my sake, even if he doesn’t look back to check on me, though I get the distinct feeling that he’s resisting the urge.
I grip the thick rope railing with both hands, my stomach pitching with every step and sway.
I loathe the way these bridges make me feel.
Give me cold stone, cracks, and outcroppings any day.
The heights don’t bother me; it’s the uncertainty.
I don’t trust the construction of these bridges; I don’t trust the rope to keep me from plummeting over the edge, or from fraying and falling.
Maybe if my father had built the bridges, I could trust them.
He was meticulous, even for a tinkerer. His work would stand the test of time.
I swallow the lump that forms in my throat at the thought.
How did I know my father hadn’t built the bridges?
Or worked on another project in Tǎnkaski?
He came to Bǎodela as a teenager. He could have been an apprentice here.
I push the thoughts away; it was a dream, really, grasping at pebbles and hoping to find a glimmer of gemstone.
What I wouldn’t do to find a piece of him out in the world.
I slam into Caius’ out-stretched arm. Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed him draw to a halt outside the commissary. I try to shove him out of my way. In response, he drops his arm to lace his fingers between mine, pulling me so close his lips brush the shell of my ear when he speaks.
“Quiet, I hear voices up ahead,” he whispers.
Goosebumps race over my skin. I’m embarrassed by the response.
The lights are dim, and I hope he can’t see the way my body reacts to how near he is.
He is insufferable enough as it is without knowing that my cells still remember him, call to him, long for him…
but something between me and Caius will never happen.
Caius presses against the outer wall of the commissary where we shared a meal earlier. I tuck in behind him, edging to the junction where the sliding door stands ajar.
“Their party was traveling through the western woods.” I recognize Rui’s voice and try to get a better view, but I can’t see anything around Caius’ sculpted chest. Frustrated, I press my body into his, leaning forward, close enough to get a glimpse.
Rui kneels on the mat floor in front of a semicircle of seven elders, all kneeling facing him. The striking resemblance between Rui and the man at the center leaves little question that this elder is his father.
“No one travels the western woods.” A woman with silver hair pulled into a high bun responds. Her eyes have the look of one who has seen a lifetime, but only fine wrinkles line her oval face.
Rui bows his head. “I know, but that is indeed where we found two of them. We collected their traveling companions at the bottom of the crag.”
“And what were they doing?” The man who looked too much like Rui not to be his father asked.
“I don’t know. They haven’t said.” Rui drops his gaze to the floor.
“They are not from Tǎnkaski, nor the Southern Collective.” The woman next to Rui’s father muses. “Could they be from the Western Provinces?”
The council devolves into murmurs.
“The tunnels to the west collapsed generations ago.”
“That doesn’t mean there are no settlements in the west.”
“It’s likely they all died out long ago.”
“Then where did they come from?”
“No one travels The Above. It’s the domain of the dragons.”
“If they did come from the west, how could they have made it this far?”
“Civra did try to eat them.” Rui gives a half smile as if trying to reign in the chaos with a joke.
“This is no joking matter, boy.” The silver-haired woman’s words were stern but not unkind.
“This could be more serious than any of us wants to admit.” Rui’s father strokes a hand over his well-trimmed beard. “It has been a long time since our people have had to defend the road to Mí-ītarGǔ.”
Rui snorts, and my pulse quickens at recognition of the name, a name of myth and legend, a name my father only whispered when he knew we were alone.
“Father, you couldn’t possibly be suggesting—”
“Do not be so cavalier with our duty, son. If these foreigners have learned the secret of the hatching grounds, we are duty-bound to put a stop to their futile quest.”
Rui bows his head, collecting his words carefully before he speaks again. “I meant no disrespect. It is only that the road to Aether and Bone is warded. Only descendants of the riders can make it through. They are no threat.”
Rui’s father holds up his hand, calling for silence.
“There is much you do not know, much I didn’t think you needed the burden of yet.
But the appearance of these travelers brings questions.
We must tread carefully.” The older man stands and walks over to Rui before kneeling down before his son, their knees nearly touching.
He then unclasps a beaded bracelet from his wrist. When he holds it in front of Rui, my breath catches; sky stones, I would know them anywhere.
Not all in The Below believed in the practice.
My hand travels to the white carved beads at my neck, tracing the texture.
I had carved each one painstakingly. Every detail had to be perfect. The beads warm beneath my fingertips.
Caius clasps my hand. I didn’t realize I was trembling.
He holds my hand tight as I clutch the beads in my palm; a calloused thumb swipes over my cheekbone.
When had the tears started? I look up into his eyes, and I hate the understanding I see there, the caring.
He knows nothing; he doesn’t get to take my father away from me and then comfort me for my loss, and yet, I am so very tired of bearing it alone.
When I regain my focus, Rui’s father is just finishing clasping the sky stones around Rui’s wrist. “You know what they are for. You will ready your men.” He wraps his palm over the beads, weathered eyes locking on to Rui’s, holding that intense stare until Rui bows his head.
“We will have to watch the newcomers.” Rui’s father rises and returns to his spot amongst the elders. “They are welcome to stay until Civra moves on. Try to find out what they are doing here, and Rui, if their purpose is as I fear, they cannot be allowed to continue on their journey.”
“Yes, father.”
“Time to go,” Caius whispers. He grasps my shoulders and gently puts distance between us.
Once he is satisfied, he releases me, leading the way through the shadows away from the commissary.
As we approach the first bridge, Caius slips his hand seamlessly into mine, tugging me forward.
I’m so startled by the movement I forget to be angry.
Caius guides us through the city with such grace that it feels like we are flying, and it isn’t until my boots touch down on solid rock again and Caius releases my hand that I realize he navigated me through the rope bridges without my notice.
“How did you—”
“We didn’t have time for you to panic.” Caius flashes one of his half-grins.
I clench my hands into fists to keep from slapping it off his face.
“This one is yours.” Caius slides open a lightweight door that appears to be made of framed wood and paper. I peer inside. The room is lit with a single glow globe sitting on a narrow shelf over a single sleeping mat, my things tucked in at the foot of the bed.
I turn to Caius, my stomach a jumble of nerves. I’ve gotten used to traveling with him and the others. “Where is everyone else sleeping?”
Caius takes a step back, and his eyes trace the shape of the structure.
It’s composed of four pillars, full tree trunks stripped and sanded until they shine like glass with dark knots scattered across their pale surface.
Dark crossbeams separate the floors, with dual wooden ladders that climb the front leading to the upper levels.
All the walls appear to be made of paper.
The structure is so foreign, composed of materials that will hardly last a generation, yet it is warm and inviting, calling me to rest.
“Cressida.” He points to the door next to mine. “Dom,” the next door over, “Me.” He points to the door above mine.