Chapter 18 #3
Caius pulls the dagger from his hip. “I deserve worse.” He bites down on the leather-wrapped hilt of his blade and nods.
To his credit, he remains silent, still as stone, as I pierce his flesh and suture the jagged pieces back together.
I take my time, letting the soft glow of my magic guide me, focusing until it is no longer flesh and bone that I’m working with but simply a broken bit of tech.
Making the stitches as even as I can, I focus on piecing Caius back together with the same level of care I give my machines.
The heat builds in my fingertips; I struggle to dampen it now, and a soft glow edges the wound as my eyes grow hazy.
Even mustering all my skill, I’m no healer, and I feel guilt at the scars he will bear.
The sound of Caius re-sheathing his blade pulls me from my inspection of his wound.
His eyes rove over my work. “You did good.”
“It will scar.”
“It would have scarred, regardless. This is good work.”
I pull a pot of salve from our med kit and slather it over the wound before finally wrapping it.
I unroll Caius’ bedroll. “Now rest.”
Caius’ grunts. “I can take first watch.”
I take in the pallor of his skin, the deep circles under his eyes, and the weight of his hooded eyelids.
“Who are you kidding?” Cressida says.
Caius glares at his sister in return.
“She’s right. You need rest. The rest of us can handle watch.”
His eyes dart to mine, searching, always fucking searching, for what, I’m not sure. But then he nods and slumps into his bedroll, his injured arm propped up on his side.
I take first watch. The sky is bright, and the wind rustles softly through the branches overhead by the time Dom wakes to relieve me.
I clutch the DǎogàoKumi?i bottle in my hands, tracing my fingers over the crashing waves molded into the green glass.
I hope, not for the first time, that Rui can forgive me.
That we will make it to the hatching grounds and find a way to save Bǎodela, to save Tǎnkaski, to save us all.
I hope that in the end, our quest is worth all the hurt that we have caused.
“Any trouble?” Dom asks, taking a seat beside me.
“I am the trouble, remember?” I bump my shoulder into his, trying to keep the exchange light. My aching heart can’t take much more.
Dom chuckles softly. “You always were. Nothing new then?” He lets his eyes trace over the canopy before landing on me with a worried smile.
I shake my head, clutching the DǎogàoKumi?i bottle tighter. “No, nothing new.”
“I’m here…if you want to talk about it…what’s troubling you. Or if you don’t. Either way, I’m here.”
I lean into Dom’s side, my focus still on the glass prayer bottle in my hands. It takes a while before I can select the words I want to share. “I’m scared.” I finally whisper.
“That’s understandable. Nearly eaten by dragons, chased from Tǎnkaski, shot at, having to endure Caius every waking moment for over a phase.” He turns to me and winks.
I roll my eyes but can’t hide my smile. Dom always knows the right things to say. “It’s not any of that actually…” My face falls. “I’m afraid of what happens if we fail.”
Dom slings one arm around me, rubbing my shoulder. His other hand reaches out to touch the dirt beside us. “I’m scared of that, too. Perhaps we will carry favor with our gods.” He nods at the bottle in my hands. “Or his.”
I turn to Dom, searching for his meaning.
“A prayer couldn’t hurt, Ollie.” His expression has turned serious.
I think back to my prayer sent to Rui’s gods in The Below: please watch over these people. Dom knows I lost my faith long ago. It burned up on the sky pyre with my father. But perhaps just this once, he’s right.
I give a slight nod, pull the wand from the bottle and look to Dom.
Pressing his fingers into the dirt, he recites the prayer of the pantheon.
I echo his words softly, delivering them into the gossamer sheen at the end of the wand.
Though it has been years since I spoke those words, they are still there, silent but not forgotten.
When we finish, I send the bubble off into the heavens. It catches the breeze, floating above the canopy and out of sight. Then we both bring our out-stretched arms to our temples, then across our chests to seal the prayer.
I tuck the DǎogàoKumi?i bottle away in my pocket, then clutch Dom’s hand.
“Thank you.” I give his hand a squeeze before leaving to ease into my bedroll beside Caius, careful not to disturb him.
His breathing is deep. With his face relaxed in sleep, the hard edges melt away, the weight he bears having been lifted, if only for a short while.
I see glimpses of the boy I grew up with, the one who blustered and turned red when I’d call him Fox, like the little litter of abandoned fox bats he tended to in the corner of an abandoned cavern.
He had tried to keep it a secret. Even then, his father had expectations, but Caius Amarala had been kind and caring, once.
Before I can think better of it, I reach out to brush the dark locks from his brow and wonder.
Who could that boy have become? Yanking my hand back, I swallow the knot that forms in my throat and slam my eyes shut, begging for a sleep I know won’t come.
The sun has settled into late afternoon by the time I open my eyes again. Caius struggles beside me to repack his sleeping roll. I turn to my side and watch him.
“You know you can ask for help.” I offer.
Caius glares at me. “I don’t need help.”
“Suit yourself.” I quickly pack my own bag and move on to help the others break down camp, hiding any signs that we had been there.
“Do you think they will come looking for us?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Of course they will come looking for us. It’s Tǎnkaski duty to protect the road to Mí-ītarGǔ, and Rui knows without a doubt that is where we’re going.
“Yes.” Caius steps up next to me, his gear packed surprisingly well for how much he was struggling with his injured arm. “Which is why we can’t waste any more time. I want to put as much distance between them and us as we can.”
“We’ve covered our tracks well. How will they even know where to look?” Cressida asks.
I trail my fingers over my pocket, then remove the map concealed inside. “Because they know the route to the hatching grounds, and now so do we.”
Darkness flashes in Caius’ eyes as he inspects the map. I can feel the question he won’t ask: What did you do to get that?
I unfold the map, and the others gather around close. It’s silent for a long while.
“We must be here.” Caius points with the tip of his dagger.
“How can you tell? This is more art piece than map,” Cressida remarks.
“Here.” Caius traces a swirling line of dark ink.
“This is the river and right here.” He indicates a section in the lower left corner.
“This indicates the scale.” I’m not sure how he could decipher anything from that section of intricately inked designs, but I trust that he knows what he’s talking about.
“I would estimate that we traveled fifteen kilometers from the Sky City last night.” His blade travels to a towering city, then out into the dark woods. “That would put us about here.”
“Great, what do we do now?” Cressida places a hand on her hip.
“We head due east until we hit the mountains.” Caius snakes his blade along the trail past strange, whirling designs inked into the river and on to the jagged mountains on the map.
“Trekking to the death mountains, got it.” Cressida winks at her brother and slings her pack onto her back as she starts in the direction Caius had indicated on the map.
I inspect the dark-inked mountains a moment longer before I tuck the map back in my pocket.
“They aren’t death mountains,” I mutter.
Dom looks at me from the corner of his eye.
“They aren’t!”
“Then why were there creatures inked into every crack and crevice?” Cressida calls back over her shoulder.
Heat builds under my skin, and I clench my fists, but keep any response that threatens to boil out to myself.
Truth be told, they very well may be death mountains, and if that is the case, I would rather not think about it.
Sweat beads on my brow and drips into my eyes.
It carves a river down my back, causing my clothing to cling to my skin and chafe.
My eyes sting with salt, and my legs ache, burning from the brutal pace Caius has set.
But there is no reprieve. He pushes us hard through the rest of the day and only allows a short rest before pressing on into the night.
Glowing eyes flash in the darkness between the ancient pine sentinels standing guard over us.
The creatures of the forest may be watching us, but none seem interested in interfering tonight.
It’s well into second shift by the time Caius allows us to stop for the night. We refill our water skins, but Caius refuses to let us build a fire.
“We don’t know how closely they follow,” Caius argues, leaving us with a deeply unsatisfying cold meal of jerky, dried fruits, and nuts. My stomach rumbles as I slide into my bedroll, and I can’t help but glare at Caius, who sits on a log, taking first watch.
He drops his voice low. “Would you turn on me so fast?” he asks with his cocky half-grin.
“What?”
“I know that look.” He points his dagger at me. “That is your hangry look.”
“I don’t have a hangry look,” I mutter and turn my back to him, crossing my arms.
Caius moves close to kneel beside me. “Yes, you do, and I do my best to avoid being on the receiving end of that look.”
I snort.
“Have I not picked exactly the meal you wanted every day since I was assigned to you?” he asks.
I set my jaw and refuse to give the answer he already knows.
“So stubborn.” He pulls a wax-leaf packet from his bag and hands it to me. “I’m sorry it’s not warm.”
I sit up, cocking my head to the side as I inspect the offering he presses into my hands.
My eyes travel from the packet to Caius, who watches me intently, a soft smile on his lips.
Carefully, I unwrap the package to find a stack of three pale discs, each split through the middle and stuffed with a mixture of meat and veggies.
I bite into one, stifling a moan. It is the perfect combination of hearty corn, spiced shredded meat, diced tomatoes, onions, and herbs.
Caius smiles, watching me intently. I hold out the package to him, prompting him to take one. He hesitates.
“I don’t know when I will be able to get something like this for you again.” He gently pushes the wrapped meal back toward me.
“Take one, Caius. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”
His eyes lock onto mine, and then he gingerly takes one of the discs for himself.
We eat in silence, enjoying what might be our last real meal together for the foreseeable future.
At some point, Caius settles on the forest floor beside me, and I scoot in to lean against his side.
It frightens me how easy it is to fall into this pattern with him.
How easily he draws me in and makes me forget why I hate him.
A fluttering stirs in my belly at the thought.
I don’t want to hate him, and yet deep down, I know I can never forgive him.