CHAPTER 27 #2
A house. Or a refuge of some sort, more like.
A candle flickered atop the table pushed against one side of the room amidst scattered parchments, a single book and a sealed pot of ink.
In the center of the cave, Zephyr’s makeshift torch was feeding logs that had been left on a sooty hearth, the fire catching slowly.
Hats, coats, and climbing equipment hung haphazardly from hooks drilled into the stone wall on the other side, where a narrow cot was perfectly made with dark sheets.
A stream of water poured from the ceiling in a delicate waterfall, clinging to the wall before vanishing through a narrow crevice. My mouth fell open.
How in the world has that ended up in here?
It didn’t really matter, as long as it meant we might have drinking water to refill our bottles. We’d need to boil it first, not knowing where it came from, but it was better odds than we’d had in days.
If only everything didn’t hurt so badly.
To the right of the waterfall, dried herbs and bottles lined a makeshift cabinet. At its base sat a wide metal pot beside a carved depression in the stone floor. Mold ringed the edges, betraying what it’d been used for if the shape alone wouldn’t suffice. A tub, carved into the ground.
Noting where my attention had fallen, Zephyr huffed, “Convenient, huh?” He shifted slightly, just enough to glance at me. “What do you say we heat up some water to get you warm?”
I almost sobbed. “Yes.”
There was no room left to think about how there was nowhere in the small space where I’d be able to hide from the captain’s gaze.
As if he’d also realized this, that taunting smirk made its appearance. “Think you can stand on your own?”
I tested my weight on the balls of my feet. “Yeah.”
He slowly stepped away, keeping one arm nearby but leaving me to balance myself. “Good.”
The captain didn’t waste any time, walking to the large barrel, filling it with water from the stream cascading down the wall. It trickled into it, the reverberation of its weight against the slowly filling metal calling to my tingling fingertips.
“This might take a while,” Zephyr said, looking at me from where he crouched. “Why don’t you check if there’s anything useful in those papers in the meantime?” His head tilted towards the desk where the single candle burned, still in the windless, confined space.
My mouth was drier than ever, and it felt like a ball was lodged in my throat, but I forced out, “Sure.” I owed Zephyr a lot as it was, so trying to be useful was the least I could do.
On my way to the desk, my steps were much less certain than I’d have liked. My breathing came in fast, shallow bursts, still locked in the same stuttering rhythm it had adopted the moment I’d fallen through that wall into unknown darkness.
Forcing a deeper breath into my lungs, I focused on the papers in front of me, ignoring the tightness of my skin and the thunderous tempo of my pulse. They seemed to be mostly records of names, amounts in ounces and dates. Quantities of . . . sap.
Phantom pain pulsed in my temples.
I had seen registries like this before. Just last month in The Powder, the Sapless had . . .
No.
My hands grew even more numb, all traces of sensation disappearing altogether.
It can’t be.
My attention fell to the large, leather-bound book resting to the side. I dragged it over the records, covering them in hopes of stalling the moment of revelation that would no doubt be coming once Zephyr joined me here. Because if I was right . . .
Don’t even think about it.
I carefully pried the heavy cover open, fumbling with numb fingers and trembling hands. The pages resisted me, the stiff leather binding creaking as I peeled it back.
My eyes scanned the first few lines.
7th of March 1922,
It’s only getting worse. The one thing I thought could once and for all close the gap that’s been separating humans, to erase hunger and war from this world, has become the thing that made it all worse. I fear it’ll be the thing that settles it, once and for all.
My heart pounded even harder.
This is . . .
I scanned the next few lines.
Not even the limitations of the wood have helped on this front, but rather, they have furthered it. I need to do something about it, but I am terrified of continuing to make things worse across all nations.
A journal.
And it talked about the Evergreen Mahogany—the wood that suppressed sap-granted abilities. A discovery attributed to one man and one man only.
My eyes flicked to the bottom corner of the page, where two letters marked the page in neat, deliberate script:
S. S.
Silvester Sircelen.
Needles pricked my skin.
We had it. This would surely be the clue to tip the balance of everything. We’d done it. We had Dr. Sircelen’s journal.
But if it proves my suspicion right . . .
“If you keep shivering like that, there’s a chance you might bring this whole mountain down on us.” Zephyr’s voice startled me, and I turned to watch him approach.
The large metal basin, now full to the brim, was already set over the blazing fire.
“What do you have there, Lachlan?”
I stepped to the side, showing him the book. “It’s his journal.” For some reason, my voice came out less excited than I felt. My tongue felt heavy despite the hope blossoming in my stomach. “Zephyr, it could be the key to unravelling this whole thing.”
His expression shifted, growing serious as he scanned the lines I’d just read. “It’s from years ago.”
No. I refused his attempt to see this for less than what it was. My whole body refused the possibility. I wouldn’t let it be nothing.
Sinking my nails towards the middle of the heavy book, I pulled it open with a sharp flick. My gaze instantly fell on the date at the top. It took a couple blinks for me to be able to discern the numbers through the blurriness.
22nd of November 1929
I pointed to the date. “This is from months ago.”
My heartbeat continued to grow faster, in turn with my breathing. In fact, I was struggling to get air into my lungs.
Something’s off.
“Yes,” Zephyr said, frowning. “But something’s off.”
How does he know?
I looked up at him. His face was blurred, too, like I was seeing him through fogged glass. He was still focused on the journal.
“His words no longer seem coherent,” he continued. Then his eyes locked on mine, and widened. “Lachlan?”
I tried to answer.
But the room was spinning
And my thighs were spasming too hard and I was struggling to stand.
One more time, I felt his arms closing around me, their warmth scorching against my tingling skin.
Then everything went black.