Chapter 15 #2
Caius holds his arms out wide, a phase disc held in each open palm, illuminating the cavern around us. Shimmering purple refracts the light, scattering it across the crystalline surface, lighting up the geode like we stand suspended in the night sky with nothing between us and the cosmos.
“Caius—” There are no words that could capture the magic of this place. It is endless, yet intimate. The light appears to go on forever, and yet it shines only for us. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“It is.” Something about the tone of his voice makes my gaze snap to him.
I find that while I have been inspecting the amethyst-filled cavern, Caius has been inspecting me.
The light dances over his skin, illuminating every angle of his perfect face, casting him in light and shadow that makes him look carved from marble, a monument to the gods…
and I am staring. My skin heats, and I hope the purple hue cast by the quartz is enough to hide my embarrassment.
However, the way I feel Caius’ eyes burn over my skin suggests otherwise.
“How did you find this place?” I ask.
“While you’ve been dating the enemy, I was scouting the tunnels in case we need to make a quick escape.”
I sputter, unsure of which accusation to counter first. “I was not, he is not, I—”
Caius places one of the phase discs in my hand. It is smaller than I expected, sitting comfortably in my palm. The smooth white stone hums with energy across my skin. Caius pulls a leather cord from his pocket and ties it through the center of the phase stone in his hand.
“Where did you get these?” I ask, looking for a change of topic.
Caius steps closer and holds the phase stone on the leather cord up in front of me, silently asking for permission. I nod. His fingers gently brush the hair away from my neck, then he ties the cord and takes his stone from my hand.
“There is a stall in the market where citizens can trade drained stones for charged ones,” he says as he secures his own stone around his neck.
I snort. “We are neither citizens nor do we have stones to trade. What did you do, steal them?”
“Something like that.” He gives me one of his half-grins and I find it hard to be angry with him when he looks like that in a place like this.
“Come on.” He leads me deeper into the geode.
“Isn’t this the surprise?” I ask.
“There’s more,” he responds cryptically.
I’ve already followed him this far; what harm is there in following him a little while longer?
Caius leads us to the other side of the geode and back into plain carved tunnels. I feel a little sad to leave the crystal-lined cavern behind, but even more curious at what Caius is up to.
“Here.” The tunnel opens up into a vast cavern, soft light filters in from an opening on the far wall. I can tell immediately that it’s not sunlight, it has the soft quality of the phase panels, but I can’t see any from where I stand.
Caius moves to the wall. “Up for a little climbing?”
My heart soars, and I take in the wall behind him. I quickly map handholds, prominences, and cracks. A new wall to climb. My skin buzzes with anticipation. I want to get lost exploring its surface, mapping its routes, exposing its secrets, and then my spirit plummets.
“I’d love to, but…” My father’s lesson, to always secure my route, echoes in my mind.
Caius swings his pack off his back and pulls open the ties before me. “What? Are you afraid you can’t keep up with me?” There, tucked neatly inside his pack, beneath two wax leaf-wrapped packets, are ropes and anchors. I reach for the bag, but Caius is quicker, dancing out of range.
“You’ll ruin your final surprise,” he says as he turns around and yanks a rope out, handing it over to me. He then pulls a bag of anchors out and passes those to me, too.
“So, are you up for a race, Oliviana? Or are you afraid?”
“Of you? Never.” The counter tumbles off my lips before I realize what I’m saying. The shock of my words wipes the smirk from Caius’ face. His green eyes rage, and he steps closer.
“You should be,” he whispers, and I know we aren’t talking about climbing anymore.
My heart pounds against my rib cage at his proximity, but it isn’t fear that I feel. It has never been fear. Annoyance, sure, anger, hells yes, but I have never been afraid of him.
I tip my chin up defiantly. “You are not as imposing as you believe you are, Sir.” I use my best imitation of a high council voice and revel in the slight tug at the corner of his lips.
“Hmm, is that right? Perhaps we should put a wager on this race, my lady?” He smiles in earnest now and gods, he’s beautiful when he lets his guard down.
“What did you have in mind, my good man?” I secure my rope first to my harness, then to the anchor. Caius crouches over his pack, sliding something into the pocket of his pants.
“Winner picks their prize.” His gaze dips briefly to my lips. “But it has to be something you can claim at the top.”
“You are going to look awfully silly hiking barefoot.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “You’d claim my boots as your prize?” he asks.
“Yes, perhaps you will have less capacity to annoy me on the trek if you have to concentrate on your footwork.”
Caius laughs, then slowly pulls off each of his boots.
“Well, that’s just not fair,” I say with a smile.
“Who ever said I play fair?”
The way his eyes lock onto mine sends butterflies rushing through me once again; rather distracting, annoying butterflies.
“In that case—” I dart for the wall.
My mind must be playing tricks on me, because I swear I hear Caius laugh behind me. I climb quickly at first; the rock is cool and solid beneath my fingertips, buzzing with energy, drawing me in. Pausing, I push my palms into the rock; I close my eyes, savoring the feeling. I have missed this.
“You better not be going easy on me.” Caius snaps me out of my revelry. He’s close, too close. I don’t need to look to know that he’s pulled up next to me on the rock face.
“Never,” I mutter and then begin to climb in earnest. I may not know these walls but the path reveals itself to me, one handhold at a time. I pick up speed. It feels like flying. I loop my leg over the lip at the top and roll onto my back, my head spinning from the high; it’s over all too quickly.
I come to my feet, crouch low, and peer over the side, startling as Caius’ fingers grip the edge below me. I hadn’t expected him to be so close. He’s faster than he was when we were kids, but so am I.
I step back, giving Caius room to join me on the ledge. The crack at the top of the wall is wide, stretching a city block, phase lights spilling in from beyond.
“You always were fast,” Caius says with a smile that surprises me. I had expected annoyance at his loss, maybe even anger. But his eyes are soft as they lock on mine, his breath still coming hard from the exertion.
“Maybe you’re just slow,” I counter.
Caius steps closer, narrowing the distance between us. His eyes dip to my lips once again. “You won,” he whispers, “claim your prize.”
My heart stops. I know in that moment what Caius would have claimed at the top of the wall, and for a brief second I wish I had let him win.
But I didn’t. I may have forgotten who he was in the geode, let myself pretend that we don’t share a tragic past, but that was just a fantasy, and as much as I want to claim Caius’ lips with my own, I can’t.
I step away and smirk. “I claim…whatever you stashed in your pocket before the climb.”
Caius keeps his gaze locked on me. The corners of his lips twitch up as he slides a hand into his pocket and pulls out two thick, wax-leaf wrapped packages. Stepping closer than is necessary, he places one in my palm, his fingers lingering.
His voice is low and husky when he speaks. “You didn’t have to claim this. It was already yours.”
My heart stutters at the confession that I’m certain has nothing to do with the meal in my hand and everything to do with the man standing all too close.
My gods, what game is he playing? We have been on assignment together for well over a phase now, and we can barely stand each other.
My temper flares as I think it over. It’s only now that I have the attention of Rui that Caius has grown so bold. He doesn’t want me, not like that.
I snatch the package away and stomp off toward the phase lights, which grow so bright they momentarily block my view.
When everything comes into focus, I find that I am standing at the edge of a crack in the dome.
Down below, Tǎnkaski stretches out before me, a beautiful sprawling city carved of wood, and light, so different from the dark stone of Bǎodela.
The city here breathes; it is lively and whole. My heart sinks. For how long?
My legs grow weak beneath me, and I slump to sit on the ledge as my thoughts spiral.
I’ve tried to ignore Caius’ warning that the blight will strike here too.
I’ve allowed the fantasy of finding a home where I belong to gain traction, clawing its way in from the recesses of my mind.
But it’s only a matter of time before The Below falls.
I feel it in my bones that it’s true. The little part of me that had sprouted hope since arriving here, that na?ve seedling that thought I might find happiness in this place, shrivels up and dies, a sprout left out in the harsh sun.
Caius clears his throat as he approaches.
A soothing feeling washes over me, followed by annoyance.
How can one person elicit such opposing emotions?
Caius takes a seat beside me. This time he leaves a wide space between us, as if he can read my mood, which only makes me all the more angry with him.
I can feel him studying me, but when I finally pry my gaze away from the bustling city below, he has the good sense to occupy himself with the matching wax-leaf package in his hands.
He peels away strands of the leaf with his thumb, and when I am finally satisfied that he will keep his opinions to himself, I inspect the bundle in my hand.
Slowly, I unwrap the wax-leaf until I find the sticky rice block at the center.
The corners of my eyes prick, and my throat grows thick.
I can’t decide if I am angry with Caius or infatuated with him.
Every damn time, that man picks out exactly what I want.
He doesn’t just rely on my favorites, sticking to a tried-and-true menu of items he knows I enjoy.
No, every day it’s something new, sometimes something I didn’t even know I wanted, and every time he’s right.
“When I saw they had sticky rice with cured meat on the menu, I knew I had to steal a couple from the kitchen.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, like running water gently carving away my walls.
“I thought you would enjoy dinner with a view.” He’s hunched forward, appearing smaller than he normally does, gazing up through dark lashes, questioning where he had gone wrong.
I offer a weak smile, though I know it doesn’t touch my eyes. Caius confuses me. I’m afraid of the way he gets under my skin, the way he makes me look at him like maybe there could be something more.
Needing something else to focus on, I take a large bite of my sticky rice.
I thought I’d eaten sticky rice back at Bǎodela.
I was wrong. This tasted better than anything that came out of my home kitchens.
The rice was thick, sticking together and rolling across my tongue, dragging a deep earthy flavor infused from the wax-leaf, then umami pops of meat exploded in the mix, providing the perfect balance.
Before I can stop myself, a moan presses through my lips.
Caius smiles, and I can’t help it. I smile too.
“I like it when you make that sound,” he says.
I squint my eyes at him, and Caius has the good sense to shift his focus to his own meal.
We finish our meal in silence, a strange peace settling over us.
When I fold my wax leaf into a tight packet, Caius scoots closer to me, extending his hand with his gaze turned down.
I inch closer to him and hand over the refuse, hating myself a little for wanting to be near him as I take in the city below.
“It’s okay, you know?” The tenor of his voice remains soft, gently eroding my resolve.
“What is?” I finally let my gaze drift to him.
“To let your guard down.”
I roll my eyes and look back over the city. “What do you know of it, Caius?”
His shoulder brushes mine, and I instinctively lean into his warmth.
“I know that you are safe with me.”
My heart pounds against my rib cage. The feeling is anything but safe.
I’m terrified. Not of him, not of the violence and darkness that I see rippling beneath his surface of stone.
No, I’m terrified that I will lose control when I’m around him.
That if I let my guard down, the piece of me that calls to the darkness in him will take over.
That if I’m not vigilant, my body will override my logical mind and leave me to deal with the shattered aftermath.
There’s a reason it’s best to keep the dark prince at a distance.
He’s dangerous, and when he sets his focus on something, people die.
As if he can hear my racing heart, Caius whispers, “I would never hurt you.”
I freeze at his words, eyes locked on the ancient bridge that leads to the temple. So much history.
Tentatively, Caius reaches over and runs a finger along my jaw, his touch feather-light, prompting me to look at him.
The choice is mine, and damn me if I don’t let this beautiful broken man guide my gaze to his.
Tears well in my eyes. I hate them, even more than I hate Caius.
I hate the way they make me look weak in front of him, the way that they betray my emotions.
My gods, he has to know. The man reads me like an open book.
A single tear breaks free. Caius brushes it away, the arc of his thumb tracing over my lips before gently grabbing my chin.
“Oliviana, if I could take away your pain, I would.”
I stifle the sob that tries to work free from my chest. Caius takes my reaction like an arrow to the gut. He collapses forward, resting his forehead against mine.
“I’m sorry.” The apology is a whispered breath across my lips. Two apologies in one night. The barriers I’ve built around my heart tremble, threatening to break and let loose the torrent I’ve held back for so long.
He grasps my face in both hands, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. Only a fraction of light separates our lips—Thunder rocks the cavern.