Tobias #2
The hurt on her face felt worse than if she had stabbed me. Then her eyes narrowed. “If our places were reversed, would you let me continue like this? Would you let me suffer when you could do something?”
She wrung her hands, glancing down the tunnel.
She didn’t have to say it. We needed to go before she lost the ability to track them.
“We need to start moving,” I said tonelessly. “If we lose them…”
“Then answer me,” she hissed.
“Our places being reversed was exactly what I feared every day for four fucking years,” I snapped, unable to hold it in any longer. “I was willing to give my life to prevent you from being in that dungeon along with me. So no, Sagray,” I bit out. “Your suffering isn’t something I can stand.”
I stormed down the tunnel, the water dragging me back with every step. Quinn sloshed behind me, swearing under her breath as she tried to catch up. She let out a gasp. I turned the second her foot slipped.
My hand closed around her upper arm, the other encircling her wrist as I yanked her against me. For a second, the feel of her pressed against me made me wish we had never left that alcove.
Her pulse beat wildly beneath my thumb. Each beat was a reminder of what I needed to protect—and what I had to lose. My light drew closer, spinning around us like it needed to touch her as badly as I did.
“I’d say thank you if I wasn’t so furious with you,” Quinn said crossly. My mouth quirked despite myself, then I let out a soft sigh.
“I’m the one who owes you a thank you, and an apology,” I admitted. “If I’d gone in alone…”
Not only would I have lost them, but I would likely still be frozen in the darkness, despite the light I had entirely forgotten was at my command.
Quinn scrunched her nose. “Was that supposed to be an apology or just a promise of one?”
The hand I wasn’t holding in a death grip reached up to graze my cheek. Her thumb pressed into the corner of my lips where my nearly forgotten dimple must have made a fleeting appearance. My light reflected in her eyes, a tiny ball of it swooping between the curls of her hair as she smiled back.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered. “I’m okay. Thanks to you.”
“And you wanted to leave me behind.” She tried for teasing, but I could hear how shaken she was—how much I had scared her.
“As always, you were right, Sagray.”
She shivered, and I cursed myself for not having any dry clothes to give her. I reluctantly loosened my hold on her as she pulled away.
“We need to hurry,” she said, determination sharpening her tone.
I gave her a solemn nod. “Let’s go catch a rat.”
It was my turn to take her hand and lead her down the passageway. There was something about her touch that loosened the knot in my chest, letting my light bloom there instead. Or maybe it was simply something about her.
Two balls of light soared ahead, another illuminating the stones at our feet as it skimmed above the standing water.
These tunnels had to be ancient based on the layers of muck and their general air of disuse.
As we turned a corner, a raised pathway jutted from the water, its rounded edges worn down by water and time.
The footsteps in the thick mud were unmistakable—and from more than just the two fae up ahead, though theirs were the freshest.
The steady drip of moisture down the walls was getting to me more than I wanted to admit.
I held Quinn’s hand tighter as the damp scent of stone tried to drag me back to that dungeon.
And for once it was the squeeze of her hand in return that made it easier to breathe rather than locking that memory back into its cell.
I was careful not to let my light stray too far as we continued onward.
“Let me know when they’re close,” I said quietly.
My light danced around us like it was showing off for her.
“Those are useful,” Quinn whispered, her eyes bright as one of the balls of light circled close to her face. “If you can figure out how to enclose them, they would be a nice nightlight.”
I looked at her askance. “I’m not sure if they could be…enclosed.”
My light flew around me in agitated circles, like the thought of being caged unsettled it as much as it did me.
“You know, when lightning hits sand in the desert it creates glass,” Quinn mused.
“The heat’s so intense it melts the silica in the sand, creating these tube-like structures called fulgurites.
” A playful smile spread across her face, nearly making me stumble as it caught far too much of my attention.
“I was picturing what it would be like if they glowed.”
Not a cage, I realized. Art and magic and warmth combining into something both functional and beautiful.
It had been a long time since I thought of my magic as anything other than a source of pain and destruction. After all those years of having that power used against me, creating something with it sounded like a balm for my soul.
It was simple to follow the path of the footsteps as we reached a fork in the tunnel, even though Quinn murmured directions. The walls grew brighter as light bled in from ahead, the limestone familiar.
The realization hit me like a blow. We weren’t simply near the Enclave…we were underneath it.
Inwardly cursing myself for not keeping better track of our whereabouts, I looked over at Quinn. She held a finger to her lips, nodding at the expression on my face. Obviously, she had beaten me to the same conclusion.
Quinn sidled closer, murmuring in my ear. “They stopped up ahead. This must be how Silvius was able to get in.”
I grimaced as I let my light fade, wishing I brought my sword with me. It had seemed too ostentatious for the bar when we were trying to keep a low profile. I would have to make do with my dagger and my magic.
As if reading my mind, Quinn drew her dagger. She crept slowly forward, careful to keep her steps silent against the stone. I followed her lead, my own dagger in hand.
Voices echoed off the walls, and I strained to decipher them. I had no doubt I would recognize Silvius’s reedy tone. But if he were there to meet our quarry, his voice was lost among the discord.
The voices suddenly went silent. Quinn’s eyes flared wide.
“They’re gone,” she said at full volume.
I stared at her. “Another glamour?”
She ran forward, no longer hiding the thuds of her footfalls. It didn’t take long to understand how they disappeared.
A brass mirror stood at the end of the hall, its surface still rippling.