Chapter 14
Wroth
Iclutched the shivering woman to my chest, hardly aware of the sting of the ball lodged beneath my clavicle, uncaring of the slow, warm seep of blood. All of my focus was on the Artificer’s arms around me. She brayed hoarse sobs against my fur, her tears as warm as her skin was cold.
“Shh, I have you, Jesamin. I have you now.”
I stroked her damp, tangled hair, murmuring reassurance and holding her close as she cried herself out.
When she took a shuddering breath, sobs giving way to soft hiccups, she looked up at me.
My blood was smeared across her cheek like a vivid tattoo.
She reached up to touch it, hand trembling, and stared at her crimson fingertips with horror.
“I didn’t know it was you.” Her lower lip quivered dangerously.
Before she could burst into a fresh wave of sobbing, I put a finger to her lips. “Hush. The orchard keepers are awake. We must find shelter, and you can remove the ball. But not until we’re away from here.”
“I shot you—I could’ve killed you—” she said in a strangled whisper, and I couldn’t stop myself from huffing out a laugh.
“Ha! If a tiny little bee stung you, would it kill you?” I asked loftily. As though this single lead ball could do more than annoy me. It was no more than the biting of an insect—irritating, but hardly deadly.
She sniffed, still staring up at me with her brows furrowed. “Yes.”
“What?”
“I was stung as a child. I was told if it ever happened again, the venom would close my throat and I would suffocate to death.”
“Ah.” I pondered such fragility.
“But it’s not a bee, it’s a damned pistol! It could kill you!”
“Oh, please. Jesamin, truly, you must come away with me. Worry about this later. I want us away from the orchards before we are noticed.”
I took her pack, then her small, frail human hand, linking her fingers through mine. Now that I had Jesamin, only the relics in these tunnels could separate us again, and that was precisely what I feared.
If the orchard keepers were here, while the trees sent out their tempting fragrance…I wanted her well away from such allure. I would bring her through the tunnels I had scouted, fortify a shelter and make her rest until she was fed and warm.
“How did you find me?” she asked, stumbling in the dark to keep up. I slowed my pace, but I had caught a noseful of that sweet fragrance, and knew the orchards were awakening, sensing prey. Jesamin herself had been aiming her feet towards that trap.
“Marrion’s blood charm.” I touched the glass pendant around my neck, the disc with Jesamin’s blood burned into it.
I was loath to confess my panic to her; how I had been nearly blind with terror, clutching her spectacles as I raced to follow the blood charm’s light.
I had taken bridges and paths untrodden by men; I had climbed, crawled, and swum until I found the tunnel that smelled of her.
“The others are making their way to a defensible position within Liuridar. We’ll retrace my route, and meet with them at the rendezvous point. ”
Jesamin’s fingers tightened around one of mine, tough with calluses and scars, but it was like they were made to fit there. A puzzle piece finally locking into its proper slot. “I…I forgot all about that charm.” She seemed strangely abashed.
We moved upwards through a wide corridor, both sides of the passage lined with gutters that spilled clear water down into the depths.
“I didn’t think anyone would come for me,” she whispered.
I turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide open, seeing nothing in the pitch darkness. Even my sight was at the edge of shadows, the predatory eyes of a fiend giving way before the complete void of the Below’s depths. She was painted in shades of gray, hardly more than a phantom at my side.
I touched her cheek before I could stop myself. It was a terrible idea. Nothing could come of it, but I needed to comfort her.
“I promised,” I told her, running my thumb on the smooth edge of her cheekbone. “If you’re lost, I will come.”
She raised her hand to cover mine, pressing my palm to her face. Jesamin released another shaking breath, burying her face into my hand.
The last thing I wanted was to take my hand away.
The second last thing I wanted was for an orchard keeper to come creeping up the halls after us.
“It’s not much farther,” I coaxed, a terrible lie. The river had swept her so far, I had not the faintest idea where we were—only that the scent of the orchards was strong, and though I could resist it, I needed Jesamin away from their influence.
I had slid down shafts and smooth boreholes to reach her, climbed over walls pocked with honeycombs of branching wormholes.
Whatever route we took back to Liuridar, it would not be the one I had taken down.
The path to find her had been a new trail blazed, when no one had ever entered or left Liuridar except by the glass bridge.
Shelter, and then we would chart a new path from these darkened depths. There were no maps to guide us here. No collective knowledge of what to avoid or fear, beyond the temptation of the orchards.
She followed gamely, though she was slow and stumbled more often than not. The cool breeze blowing through the tunnels made her shiver, and at times, I saw her look back from the corner of my eye.
I still smelled the fruit.
When she slowed and paused, I gave in to temptation and scooped her up like a bridegroom.
Jesamin sucked in a breath, her body going stiff for a moment, but my blood ran hot, irresistible to cold limbs. She curled into my warmth, looping her arms around my neck.
“I’m sorry I’m slow,” she said against my throat, and the vibration of her lips sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m so cold. And hungry. Are you sure we can’t just look at the orchard?”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re freezing and exhausted. And you’ll come to your senses after you’ve rested.” I carried her up the tunnel, and though she was a tall woman, corded with solid muscle, to a fiend she was as light as a feather. “There’s nothing for you there.”
“But it smelled so good.” She swallowed, and I heard the dry rasp in her throat.
“It smelled like a trap, Jesamin. Lay your head down. We’ll find shelter soon.”
She did as ordered, cushioning her head on my shoulder and drowsing. I moved with slow confidence, sniffing every branching passage, taking us further from the nectar and pollen of the orchard with every choice I made.
Alone, in a world uncharted.
“I never apologized,” I murmured into her hair.
A shiver ran through her, forcing me to clutch her tighter. “For what?” she asked, her voice thick and groggy.
“For snapping at you over Rasmus. I despise that pretty boy…but it was only the jealousy speaking. I trust you to do the things that must be done.”
She reached up and sleepily patted my cheek. “You of all people have nothing to be jealous of. But thank you. Renaud never apologized for being an ass.”
Her acceptance, her touch, even the meaning I hoped was hidden in her words, lightened my heart of all burdens in that moment. She trusted me enough to doze off again, her hand curled into my mane.
She trusted me enough to tell me his name…though that might have been the fatigue speaking, rather than her trust that I would not look up every single Renaud in the Rivers once we were above again.
I chortled quietly, and she grumbled in her sleep.
And when the air smelled of nothing more than sediment and fresh water, I held in my sigh of relief so as not to wake her.
We emerged from the tunnel onto a wide ledge overlooking one of the Below’s subterranean lakes.
Tiny luminescent spheres glimmered in its depths, illuminating amorphous shadows that slithered and twisted around them like moths to flames.
But the ledge had once been a thoroughfare, though most of it had crumbled away.
There were rooms chiseled into the walls, small and circular, like cell blocks.
All that remained of those who had once lived here were shattered leftovers: broken pottery, rotting cloth, and most of the remaining wooden doors were spongy with dry-rot.
Unlike the alien beauty of Liuridar, the humans were expected to make do with painstakingly carving out their own rough homes in the native stone.
She shifted, eyes fluttering open. “Where are we?” Jesamin murmured, blinking at the long line of empty cell blocks. “It’s another hive.”
“I suspect these were the quarters of the slaves.” I peered into one of the cells, the distant, glimmering lights illuminating just enough to make out the primitive paintings on the walls.
People had once lived here, and it had not been a happy life. I looked away from an ancient, faded finger-painting of pale faces packed tightly together.
“Slaves?” She blinked, rubbing her eyes with one hand and staring around with unfocused eyes.
I lowered her to the floor, one arm out to keep her from wandering off the cliff’s edge. “Humans were not always free in the time before the Red Epoch. They served other masters.”
I chose the cell before us simply because the door was still intact. Moving in, I looked up at the ceiling, checking for holes or nooks where an enterprising and hungry relic might hide.
There was nothing. All was quiet.
“Inside.” I jostled Jesamin into the safety of the cell, fitting the door back in its frame and wedging it shut.
There were no windows in these cells. No furniture. Nothing but a smooth floor. There had probably been twenty people living on top of each other in this claustrophobic space.
I kicked a heap of rotted cloth aside, lowered Jesamin’s pack and mine, and spread my bedroll against the far wall. “Take off your clothes.”
She stared at me, shocked, her eyes still having trouble focusing.
“Oh, sorry. I brought your spectacles.” I carefully fumbled her gold-framed lenses from my pocket, holding them out to her. “The chain is broken, though.”