Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Being a treasure hunter was everything that Edith had ever imagined.
She was roughing it! She slept under the stars, roasted squirrels over the fire, and even urinated in the open air, crouched behind trees and bushes.
The last five days spent traveling west to Slaughterbridge were some of the best days she had ever experienced.
She was on an actual treasure hunt! She was an adventurer forging her own path, in the noble pursuit of knowledge and truth.
Not to mention she had underestimated the thrill of being around new people.
She had never spent this much time with people who weren’t her family before.
Time with her family was pleasant, comfortable.
But the newness of her travel companions brought life and excitement to every conversation.
There were no stale anecdotes, no worn-out topics of conversation.
Edith was used to being around people who already knew everything there was to know about her, but Thomasin actually seemed eager to learn more about her.
On the nights spent lounging around the fire, Thomasin and Edith would talk for hours about everything and nothing all at the same time.
Most of these conversations even ended with both of them buckled over in laughter.
Edith seemed to be endlessly amusing to Thomasin, for reasons she could not comprehend, while Thomasin could always be counted on to catch Edith off guard with a hysterical or outrageous remark.
Spending time with her was like holding a firecracker.
Slightly scary, but you knew something exciting was about to happen.
Jay was also a fascinating character. He was on the quieter side, but that meant when he did have something to say, it was really worth listening to.
He also knew everything there was to know about herbs and plants.
When they stopped to eat or rest, Edith made Jay tell her the scientific names of every plant they saw.
At first Jay participated rather grumpily, but by the third day, he was offering up facts and classifications without any prompting.
As for Worthing, Edith steered well clear of him.
She knew from the moment she saw his scowling face in the Oleander Inn that she wanted nothing to do with him.
He was a miserable man who seemed more than content to stew alone in his own miserableness.
From what Thomasin had told her—Worthing never stuck around for their nightly chats—he was only her second-in-command because the original boss of the Sunless Syndicate had appointed him.
When the boss, Marshall, died ten years ago, it had been a shock to everyone when he named Thomasin his successor instead of Worthing.
Edith thought Worthing should feel lucky that Thomasin kept him around.
Instead, he just moped around, bristled at every order, and questioned his superior’s every breath.
In the quiet moments, like when everyone else was dangling on the edge of sleep, grief still crept up on Edith.
She was having so much fun, but she knew that her grandmother would be having fun too if only she were here.
But she wasn’t. She was missing all of it, and that sapped the fun from Edith’s heart no matter how hard she tried to keep her mood bright and cheery.
Luckily, though, Thomasin was quite the distraction from even the most terrible of sadnesses.
As dusk slowly fell, and the Camel River came into view, Thomasin was in the midst of loudly serenading them with a particularly raunchy drinking song.
Edith was glad that the fading light hid her blush.
She wanted Thomasin to think she was worldly, and worldly people did not blush at the mere mention of certain lewd acts.
At Thomasin’s cue, they slowed their horses to a stop and dismounted. They would make camp nestled into the forest near the riverbank, and then the next morning they would only have to follow the river a short way upstream before finally reaching Slaughterbridge and Arthur’s Stone.
Butterflies danced wildly in Edith’s stomach as she unlaced her bedroll.
She was so close now that she could practically feel the magic in the air.
Tomorrow, she would prove that the key was a genuine artifact from Camelot, that she hadn’t wasted her life, that her grandmother hadn’t wasted hers, believing Excalibur was hidden away with the lost treasures of Camelot.
However, magic wasn’t the only thing in the air.
Edith toed off her boots, and an ungodly stench rose to her nostrils.
Discreetly, she lifted her arm and gave herself a sniff.
She nearly retched. Never in her life had she been so outstandingly filthy.
It had been six days filled with horses, sweat, and dirt since she last bathed.
Her braid was barely holding on, and when she combed her fingers through the loose strands, she was disgusted by the sheer amount of grease.
Good God, she realized with a start. She had been sitting rather close to Thomasin for the duration of the previous evening. How Thomasin had stomached the nearness of her was unfathomable. She must have spent the whole time swallowing her revulsion for the sake of not hurting Edith’s feelings.
Edith did her best to shake the thought from her head before it could take root. Thomasin was not the type to mince words. If she thought Edith stunk, she would have said it outright. Thomasin was likely used to ripe travel companions. She lived her life on the edge after all.
But while Edith was thoroughly enjoying her time on said edge, she also firmly believed that adventure and luxury should not be mutually exclusive.
So, she took the little vial of vanilla-scented soap and her loofa from her satchel, and made her way to the riverbank.
At the waters’ edge, her cheeks flushed a violent shade of red.
Usually when they made camp, they dispersed to complete their separate tasks.
Edith built the fire, which Thomasin had taught her how to do on the first night.
Thomasin scouted the nearby area for any other people or dangers, while Worthing and Jay hunted for dinner.
Edith had assumed that tonight would be no different, and had thus thought she would find privacy at the river.
But there were already three haphazard piles of clothing dotting the shore, and submerged in the water were three very naked people.
She supposed it was only fair that they were shirking their duties for the sake of hygiene, because she was currently doing the same thing.
Edith must have gasped when she saw them, because Thomasin’s eyes found hers in the waning light.
Waning being the key word, because it was still nowhere near dark enough to be galavanting around in the nude.
Not that any of them seemed to care. The water lapped against Thomasin’s collarbone.
She must have been sitting on a rock or something because the water was definitely not deep enough for her to be standing.
She could tell because out of the corner of her eye she saw Jay, who was fully upright, and the water only reached his mid thigh.
She refused to look at him fully. Edith had never seen a naked man before, and while she could admit that she was curious, and that Jay had a rugged beauty about him, she was not prepared to witness his nudity in such a public setting.
Besides, she found that her eyes did not want to stray from Thomasin’s watchful gaze and barely-there smile.
For a long moment, Edith stood stock-still, hypnotized by the intricate tattoos that adorned almost every visible inch of Thomasin’s upper chest and all the way up along the slender column of her neck.
Her shoulders and arms were inked too, the tattoos snaking down past her elbows, where they disappeared under the waterline.
Edith hadn’t been able to properly study them yet.
They were an eclectic patchwork of symbols, images, and words.
From a distance, she could make out a knife, a broken heart, a flower with delicate petals, and a tree with roots that swirled down her left arm.
Edith wanted to examine each and every one.
If she knew Thomasin, which she was beginning to think she did, she knew there would be a remarkable story behind each one.
Edith blushed even deeper at the thought of being that close to an unclothed Thomasin.
Her thoughts ricocheted to the hours they’d spent sharing a horse since Thomasin’s had met an untimely demise.
To the way Thomasin’s front felt pressed against Edith’s back.
The fluttery feeling that would kick up in Edith’s stomach whenever Thomasin rested a firm, steadying hand on Edith’s waist.
Just thinking about it, she was starting to feel a little breathless.
Or maybe it was just that Thomasin was still standing naked before her.
Edith shook herself and looked away before she could really see anything more improper.
Besides, she didn’t want to be rude, and until she knew the rules of decorum for such situations as outdoor public bathing with one’s treasure-hunting companions, she would err on the side of caution.
Worthing, thank God, was set away from the two of them and largely concealed by the shadows of an overhanging tree. Edith did not want to see anything that he had going on over there. He wasn’t unattractive per se, but his personality was just so unpleasant.
“Edith!” Thomasin called happily, when it became clear that Edith had no plans beyond standing dumbly at the shore.
The water splashed as Thomasin’s arm shot up in a wide wave.
Edith pointedly did not look at the additional bare skin that this gesture revealed.
“The water’s fucking freezing, but it’s a nice shock! ”
“Oh, um. That’s alright. I wasn’t planning—I don’t really need to wash. I’m—”