Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Thomasin supposed she had to give it to Edith.
She really hadn’t thought there would be anything here but an old stone.
So in that regard, she could give Edith a win.
However, Edith was now smiling like a maniac even though they were going to starve to death in this dank little cave.
Not to mention the fact that there was clearly no treasure.
Thomasin was just about to recommit herself to trying to shoot the portcullis when Edith started digging in her satchel.
“What are you doing?” Thomasin asked.
Edith looked up at her with a crazed smile. “It’s a puzzle,” she squealed, fishing around in her bag some more and pulling out a cloth pouch. She shook it at Thomasin, the sound of gold coins jangling inside.
“As much as it pains me to admit, gold is not going to save us from starving to death.”
“Ugh, no!” Edith gestured dramatically toward the statues. “It’s just like the story, don’t you see?” At Thomasin’s blank look, Edith took her wrist and all but dragged her closer to the tree. She put her hand in the hollow, and Thomasin felt the gold slab wobble.
“It senses weight,” Edith said, pushing Thomasin’s hand against the platform over and over again, “but nothing happens.”
“Okay …” Thomasin said. “And we want nothing to happen?”
Edith’s hands went to her hips as she fixed Thomasin with a look of exasperation. “Of course not!”
“Then why are you so happy?” Thomasin yanked her hand from the hollow.
“Because I’ve ruled this out as a possibility, which means that I’m right.”
Edith moved to turn away, but Thomasin pinned her in place with firm hands on her shoulders. “Right about what, you crazy woman?”
Edith laughed, not offended in the slightest. “About how to solve the puzzle!”
It had not once occurred to Thomasin that there was a puzzle in this room. Nor would she ever have considered that a puzzle would be the thing to rescue them from their fate.
“Slow down and explain,” she commanded Edith.
Edith took a deep, beleaguered breath before beginning.
“King Arthur received a mortal wound at this site. Before he was taken to Avalon, he gave Sir Bedivere a task. He told him to cast Excalibur back into the lake, where it would be safe from falling into the wrong hands. But Excalibur was extremely valuable and Bedivere wanted to keep the wealth for himself, so he buried Excalibur under a tree, then lied about it to Arthur.”
“It’s a dick move, but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same,” Thomasin interjected.
Edith shot her a withering look and continued.
“But Arthur had a connection to Excalibur, and he would have felt it once the blade returned to Avalon. He gave Bedivere another chance, only the knight left the sword buried again. King Arthur knew that Bedivere was a noble man, and so he gave him one last chance in the hopes that his chivalry would finally overcome his greed. And it did. Sir Bedivere threw Excalibur into the lake, which summoned the fae of Avalon, who received the sword and King Arthur, then ferried them both to their resting place.”
Thomasin opened her mouth to ask how in the hell any of that would help them, when Edith gestured expectantly first at the tree, then the basin.
The answer to her own question hit her like a ton of bricks.
She pulled Edith in for a rough hug. “You little genius!” she said into Edith’s hair.
Thomasin pulled back, giving her an excited shake before letting her go.
Edith laughed and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Well, go on,” Thomasin urged.
Edith started, shaking herself, then hurried over to the basin. She unlaced her pouch of gold, and as she poured the entire contents into the basin, said, “We must surrender our desire for wealth and release it to the water.”
The clanging of gold on marble echoed through the chamber as each coin spiraled around the basin before falling into the drain and out of sight.
The last gold piece fell, and silence blanketed the room. At first, nothing happened. Thomasin watched as Edith’s face began to fall ever so slightly.
Suddenly, there was a gravelly crunch as one of the cobblestones in the wall swung open to reveal a secret compartment. Behind them, the gears of the portcullis groaned and the iron lattice stuttered back up into the ceiling.
Thomasin was so happy about the prospect of not starving to death, she almost forgot about the compartment.
Maybe there was a treasure after all! This chamber was clearly meant to protect something.
She strode over to where Edith was bent over the compartment, examining the contents.
As Thomasin came up behind her, Edith straightened.
Thomasin’s gaze flicked down to Edith’s fingers, which were fidgeting with a roll of parchment.
Thomasin looked into the compartment, expecting gold or jewels, but it was empty.
“Is that it?” Thomasin pointed a finger at the parchment. “Where’s the treasure?”
“About that,” Edith said haltingly. “The treasure isn’t actually here. This is just the next clue.”
“What do you mean, ‘clue’?” Thomasin ground out. Edith’s eyes darted frantically around the room. She tried to sidestep, but Thomasin blocked her path. “Edith, did you know there would be no treasure here?”
“I never lied!” Edith insisted, her shoulders curling in.
“Well you sure as fuck didn’t tell the truth.
” In the back of her mind, Thomasin knew it was beyond hypocritical to be mad at Edith for lying, but she couldn’t help it.
Edith’s sincerity had completely blinded her.
She had thought Edith was wrong about the existence of the treasure, but she had never once doubted that Edith believed what she was saying.
Thomasin never considered that Edith might be lying to her, and that made her feel like the worst kind of fool.
“I said the path to Avalon began here, not that Avalon itself was here. And that’s true! The path to the treasure does start here, with this first clue.” She waved the parchment in Thomasin’s face. “The treasure is still all yours! It’s just going to take longer than you thought to get to it.”
“You know what, I’ve got a treasure already,” Thomasin said in a slow, menacing drawl.
“What?” Edith’s brow dropped into a straight line as Thomasin brushed past her. She could feel Edith following close behind as she charged toward the marble basin.
“Who needs Arthur’s treasure when I’ve got a handful of gold right here?” Thomasin reached into the basin and shoved her fingers in the drain.
Edith tried to push Thomasin away from the basin, but she didn’t budge an inch. “You have to leave them. You have to surrender your greed!”
“Absolutely not. If there’s no treasure, then I’m sure as hell not leaving behind handfuls of gold.”
“You can’t,” Edith cried, pulling on Thomasin’s arm.
She yanked away from her grip and drew her thinnest dagger from the strap on the inside of her forearm.
She angled the blade into the drain and scraped around, hoping to hit a gold coin with the tip.
She didn’t know how deep it went, but it was proven to be worth the try when she was able to get the point of her blade wedged beneath a coin.
Carefully, she dragged the coin up the side of the pipe.
Thomasin palmed the coin triumphantly and then was tackled to the ground.
“What the fuck,” she growled. Edith was lying half on top of her.
Thomasin tried to elbow her off but froze at Edith’s sharp gasp of pain.
Thomasin craned her head to look at her.
Edith’s face was paler than usual. She grimaced in pain, and Thomasin followed her line of sight to see an ancient-looking arrow sticking out of Edith’s shoulder, just below her collarbone.
“Booby traps,” Edith whimpered hoarsely.
Thomasin firmly, but gently, extricated herself from beneath Edith’s tense body. With an arm wrapped around her waist, she helped Edith to lie flat on the ground. Edith gasped in pain when her arm touched the stone floor.
Thomasin kneeled over her, right next to the wound, examining it closely.
The arrow, likely blunted by time, hadn’t gone all the way through.
She had no idea what kind of damage she would be doing if she tore it out.
But she also couldn’t leave it in. Thomasin delayed that decision by ripping wider the hole the arrow had torn through Edith’s shirt.
“No,” Edith groaned.
Thomasin froze, pulling her hands back immediately. “Did I hurt you?”
“My adventuring outfit,” Edith moaned. “It’s ruined.”
Thomasin sighed and gave her hand a firm squeeze. “I’ll find you a new one.”
Edith’s skin was bright red where the arrow had pierced her. A mottled purple bruise was already radiating beyond the wound. Thomasin needed to clean it before infection set in, but she couldn’t do that with the arrow still inside.
“Alright, there’s nothing for it,” Thomasin said. “I have to pull it out.”
“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
Thomasin wiped the beads of sweat from Edith’s forehead. She leaned over her, looking her dead in the eyes with an expression that she hoped was somewhere between comforting and commanding. “Yes. But it’ll be quick.”
Tears escaped Edith’s eyes, trailing down her temples, but she nodded. “Do it.” Her voice was shockingly steady, if a little shrill.
Thomasin wiped her sweaty hands on her thighs and forced them to shop shaking. She had stabbed an uncountable number of people in her lifetime. This was just an un-stabbing. Nothing to get all jittery and nervous about.
With one hand, she held Edith’s shoulder down, prepared for her to buck up against the pain. With the other, she carefully wrapped her fingers around the shaft and—
“Wait, wait, wait!” Edith cried, stopping Thomasin just in time. “If I die—”
“You’re not gonna die.”
“But if I do—”