by Everly Frost
I shrug. “I honestly don’t know. I’d never seen one before that night. I was injured and it must have smelled my blood. We think that’s why it came after me.”
A thoughtful crease forms on his forehead. “Lady Storm, there must have been another reason. Shadow panthers don’t crave elven blood—”
He stops speaking as Welsian makes a sharp warning gesture from across the table. A quick glance tells me that Cassian is approaching from the other side of the room. He must be concerned about Erit sitting beside me after all of Erit’s threats and taunts during the fight.
Erit vacates his seat, keeping his head down, wings pinned close at his sides, and his hands up. “Yeah, yeah,” he says to Cassian. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just wanted to tell her she won’t beat us next week. You know, psych her out a little. No harm in that, is there?”
Cassian glares at him, letting the bone lash unravel and its tip drop to the ground.
I roll my eyes at the aggressive gesture. “It didn’t work,” I say, casting as much contempt as I can muster in Erit’s direction. “My team could pulverize Erit in two seconds. Really, there’s no need for lashing.”
Cassian winds up the whip, but he does so slowly, leaving the threat to hang in the air. He glares at Erit as the other gargoyle backs away between the tables and chairs, putting as much distance between himself and Cassian as possible.
Cassian spins on his heel, his order clipped. “Princess, you will come with me.”
My team shoots me varying looks of alarm. Cassian has left us alone all week other than being a malevolent presence in the background. Suddenly he wants me to come with him and I’m not sure where he could want me to go. Or what’s going to happen when I get there.
My hesitation is enough for him to twist back to me, the threatening bone lash now pointed at me. He winds the end of the whip around his hand and closes his fist around it. “Are you refusing?”
I shake my head, rapid side-to-side. “No-o. Just not sure if I heard you right.”
“This way.”
I follow him out, but I’m worried. Nobody else has been called out with me. I have no idea what he could want with me. Maybe the conversations with the gargoyles haven’t gone as unnoticed as I hoped. Maybe he’s just been biding his time to confront me about them. A backward glance tells me that my entire team is on its feet at the center table, watching me go, fists clenched, wings arched. I can practically hear their growls from here. A row of guards closes around them and I shoot my friends a rapid headshake that I hope they’ll interpret correctly: Don’t make a move.
The door closes behind me, sealing me off from my team, and I’m alone with Cassian outside in the Cavity.
“Hurry up,” he says, striding ahead of me as he tucks away his bone lash. My forehead puckers. Now that we’re out of sight of the guards and miners he seems more impatient than threatening.
I keep my guard up, staying on his heels until he passes the bathing room and pulls up sharp on the other side of it. There’s another door on this side that I never noticed before.
Cassian swings it open and I crane my head to study the small anteroom inside. It contains three chairs against one wall, a cupboard on the other, and nothing else other than another door beyond it.
“What is this?”
“My personal bathing chamber. There’s a bath in the next room.”
“Good for you.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Can I go now?”
“You need a bath,” he says, his nose wrinkling. “Badly.”
I scowl at him. I’ve been dirty and stinky for days. “Why do you suddenly care if I’m filthy or not?”
“You need to be clean for tomorrow.”
“To head back into the tunnel?” I scoff. “I’ll be dirty again in seconds.”
“You aren’t going into the tunnel tomorrow.”
All humor dies in my throat. I press my fist to my heart. “But tomorrow’s the last day of the week. I have to help my team.”
“Not tomorrow.”
“Wait a minute—”
“Only you would argue against a day off.”
I wrench my hand from my chest, glaring at him. “Because I’m worried about what I’ll be doing instead!”
“You’ll find out.” He jerks his head in the direction of the bathing room. “Now get inside and bathe.”
I storm across the anteroom and grip the handle as he follows me inside. I say, “You know what would help me more than a bath?”
He growls in exasperation. “What?”
“A blanket. It’s freezing cold at night and I don’t have wings to keep me warm.”
“Well, you’re getting a bath instead.”
There’s no point arguing. In fact, I’m surprised he’s let me argue this long. I shove open the door and enter the bathing room expecting to see some sort of water cascade forming a shower of sorts. I’m surprised to find an actual bath. What’s more, it’s full to the brim with water.
When I cross the distance and run my hand through it, it’s warm. Not lukewarm, but toasty warm. A warm bath. A real bath. A small piece of heaven. I almost moan in anticipation of sliding into it. I clamp down on my excitement before Cassian catches my happiness.
Plastering myself with a cloak of disdain, I say, “Okay I’m here. You can go now.”
Instead of vacating the room, he closes the door, takes a seat on the chair beside it, and kicks his boots out, crossing one foot over the other.
Denying what my eyes are telling me, I try again. “Are you leaving or…?”
“Or.”
My eyes narrow so much that the edges of the room blur. A quick glance left and right tells me there’s nothing in this room I can use to force him out. Other than the chair he’s sitting on, the bathing room contains a bench with clean clothing and a towel folded on one end of it, a cake of soap resting on top of them. A bucket sits beside the bath. It’s metal. Could be used to knock him out. Maybe.
He casually pulls out the bone lash again. I’ve never seen one in action, but the gargoyles are genuinely afraid of it. I guess if Llion designed it, then it’s destined to be an efficient weapon.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight. Now bathe,” Cassian orders.
I grind my teeth together and blow out an exasperated sigh.
“Fine.” One thing at least, I’m not afraid he’ll try anything. Purely because I’m an elf. Howl’s mocking comments about my fertility and his contempt for half-breeds would cause Cassian to think twice before attempting anything his leader wouldn’t like. At least… I don’t think Cassian will try anything.
I slip off my boots, unbutton my shirt and pants, and rip them off. I hurl them at the empty end of the bench. They hit it with angry slaps. My underwear follows next. Slap-slap.
I plant my hands on my hips. He wanted me naked. Well, I’m naked.
He jumps to his feet, sapphire eyes wide, clearly taken back. I suppose he thought I’d at least attempt to cover up.
Show’s not over yet, buddy. Because there’s no way I’m getting into this beautiful bath without washing off some of the dirt first. Otherwise, the water will turn brown with grime and I really don’t want to soak in mud.
Hurling daggers at him, I snatch up the bucket, drag it through the water, and pour it over myself. As the water rushes over me I have to fight the urge to close my eyes and soak it up. It’s been far too long since I had a good wash. I keep a good grip on the bucket in case he tries anything. I might even carry it into the bath with me just in case I need to use it as a weapon. I’m not sure how I’d feel about using the tangle on him while I’m naked—could be a bit awkward—but I’m prepared to break his arm if I have to.
Rivers of dirt run around my feet and disappear underneath the bath. Rushing water tells me there’s a drain beneath it. It’s a good thing or I’d now be standing in a large puddle.
As I scoop up another bucketful, a soft click sounds behind me. I look up in time to see the door close and Cass
ian is gone. The water sloshes in the bucket back and forth for five counts before I’m convinced he isn’t coming back.
I sag against the side of the bath.
Now I can count the number of males who have seen me completely naked at… two. I scrub my eyes, pretending that the hot water trickling down my cheeks is from the bucket and not tears.
I want to hear Baelen’s voice. I want him beside me. I crave his touch. His hands. His chest. His sexy half-smile that makes my heart flip around in my chest. Him. I can defend myself, fight for myself, but I’m tired of doing it alone.
Badenoch said that he’ll do anything not to find a heartstone, but I’m not sure I have any other choice. I have to free Baelen and heal him. To do that, I have to find a heartstone. And give it to Howl. Which will make him stronger than he already is. My shoulders slump. There’s no way to win this.
Alone now, I take the time to scrub my body and hair thoroughly with soap before I slide into the bath. I leave the bucket outside it but within arm’s reach just in case. I fully immerse myself, allowing the immersion to soothe my senses and halt my thoughts. I remain in the bath for another ten minutes, until the cooling water forces me to get out.
The world rushes back in as I slosh out of the bath. I dry myself as fast as I can and squeeze as much water from my hair, rubbing it with the towel. It might not have been a good idea to wash it given how cold it gets at night. The idea of trying to sleep while icicles form in my hair is not appealing.
When I exit the bathing room, Cassian waits on one of the seats, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, wings curved around his sides. I make enough noise to draw his attention, but he fixates on a point on the opposite wall, unusually subdued.
He says, “I didn’t expect you to do that.”
I assume he’s referring to my earlier display of nakedness. I retort, “You thought I’d try to cover up, at least turn around, get into the bath fully clothed maybe?”
“Something like that.” He lifts himself from the seat, revealing a blanket in his arms. He turns to face me, his chiseled features appearing drawn and unsettled. “I didn’t see it before, but now I do.”
“See what?”
His eyes flash to mine. “Why Howl finds you intoxicating.”
He passes me the blanket and I clutch it close to my chest. It’s time for me to get out of here. He isn’t blocking the doorway. I can walk straight past him. I head for the exit as fast as I can.
Outside, a flash of movement from the direction upward and to my right draws my attention to the bathing house roof. My eyes widen as I recognize Llion and Roar perched above me, foot claws gripping the edge, pickaxe in hand, ready to leap down if they have to. Cassian is still inside and hasn’t seen them. I shake my head, hoping they’ll read it as: I’m okay. He didn’t touch me.
The last thing I want is for a fight to break out. Especially when I’m okay.
They slink back into the shadows as Cassian follows me out. He didn’t see them.
I focus on my feet and keep walking. According to Cassian, something is happening tomorrow that apparently requires me to be dirt-free and smell like vanilla-scented soap. I race back to the space below the hammocks where many of the males are taking flight to bed. When Llion appears like normal and flies me up to my hammock, I tell him everything that happened, including my brazen behavior.
“I guess General Cassian didn’t see that coming,” Iago cackles. He was listening in from the hammock at my feet. Llion doesn’t say anything as he reaches across from his hammock, one hand gripping the side of mine. I curl my hand inside his big palm and pull the blanket over myself, right up to my ears. It’s thick and eases the chill seeping through my limbs.
“We’ll miss you in the mine tomorrow,” Welsian says from the hammock at my head. “We’re putting up the supports. But we won’t find anything while you’re gone.”
Was I scared that they might? That I wouldn’t be there in case they unearth a heartstone? “What do you think will happen if we find a heartstone?” I ask. “Does our whole team get back what we want—or only one of us?”
My question hangs in the air. Nobody has an answer.
25. Cassian
Marbella is eating dinner inside the food hall and I shouldn’t take my eyes off her, but she needs a bath before tomorrow. Layers of dust have caked onto her arms and neck, not to mention the ends of her hair—her pale tresses now a dull brown color. If Howl hears about her appearance, it will give him the excuse he wants to visit the mine and check up on her. That’s the last thing I want.
Still, leaving her unattended is a risk. Tensions have been growing among the miners and I can’t pinpoint the source. Every night, they rotate around while one of the males from another team sits with her. So far, none of them appears to have threatened her, but I have to treat their behavior with suspicion.
I hurry to the supply room to grab a new set of clothes for her, then I race to my bathing room, pausing in the entrance room to collect a towel and a cake of soap, depositing them onto the bench inside the bathroom.
A hidden faucet at the side of the room releases the water into the bucket I place beneath it. The water flows warm and soothing from a hot spring deep inside the mountain. So far, the tunnels haven’t disturbed the spring, but I’m waiting for the day when the water runs cold or stops running altogether because the spring been destroyed.
I haul bucket after bucket to the bath, filling it to the brim. Normally, I don’t bother using it, filling a bucket to wash myself, since my wings are too large for a bath to be much use to me. But at least if the bath is full, she can sink into it and undress behind its deep sides, get herself clean with some semblance of privacy since I won’t be able to leave the room while she’s here.
Finishing the task, I pause at the door, my hand pressing against the doorframe. I can’t expect her to trust me, to follow me here if I ask politely.
I’ll have to order her.
She won’t like it, and neither will I, but I’ll do what I have to.
Setting my features into a blank mask, I retrieve my bone lash from the anteroom and stride back to the food hall.
I freeze in the doorway. Grievous Erit is sitting beside her, leaning across her so I can’t see her face. I can’t see if she’s threatened. Of all the gargoyles I could have left her with…
Dammit. I stride across the distance, my wing daggers angled forward, my bone lash gripped in my fist.
Erit sees me coming and immediately rises from his seat, his eyes lowered, wings kept close to his sides in a subservient gesture. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just wanted to psych her out a little. No harm in that, is there?”
I glare at him, allowing the bone lash to unravel. Its tip hits the ground with a snap while I check Marbella over. She looks relaxed enough.
She’s dismissive, eyeing Erit with disdain. “My team could pulverize Erit in two seconds. Really, there’s no need for lashing.”
She’s right. Llion could take Erit’s head off. Roar is also an honorable male and even though he didn’t want her on his team—an attitude that would have been his loss—he and his team have treated her with respect. It hasn’t slipped my notice that they sleep around her in a protective square each night.
I wind up the lash, maintaining my aggressive attitude until Erit is a good distance away. He won’t try anything now. I spin on my heel with a command thrown back at her. “Princess, you will come with me.”
She hesitates, just like I knew she would, but I can’t have her refusing. I slowly wind the lash around my hand. Dropping its tip is a more aggressive gesture, but she’s seen me wallop a recalcitrant miner over the head with the lash wound around my fist. It packs a punch. “Are you refusing?”
She shakes her head, wide-eyed, her speech disjointed. “No-o. I wasn’t sure if I heard you right.”
Damn. She’s not defiant—she’s afraid. That’s not what I wanted but it can’t be helped. I incline my head in a sharp jab toward the door,
waiting a beat for her to comply. “This way.”
She finally follows me out and I exhale my relief as the door closes behind her. “Hurry up.”
I listen for her footsteps, keeping her at the corner of my vision as I lead the way to the bathing room. She hasn’t been in this area before, probably doesn’t even know it’s here. I swing open the door.
She digs in her heels, peering inside. “What is this?”
“My personal bathing chamber,” I say. “There’s a bath in the next room.”
“Good for you.”
I hide a grin. She’s rebellious again. It’s much better than afraid.
She folds her arms across her filthy chest. I’m surprised she can eat without getting dirt in her food.
She glares at me. “Can I go now?”
“You need a bath,” I say, trying not to inhale. “Badly.”
Of course, she asks me the difficult question: “Why do you suddenly care if I’m filthy or not?”
I attempt a partial truth. “You need to be clean for tomorrow.”
“To head back into the tunnel?” She laughs. “I’ll be dirty again in seconds.”
“You aren’t going into the tunnel tomorrow.”
Her smile fades. So does her defiance. Worry settles across her face. Her fist presses against her heart as if it hurts. She’s far too expressive, too vulnerable. Ever since she lost her storm power, there have been subtle changes in her expression, the way she carries herself, even the way her eyes reflect the light. I wonder whether the other gargoyles can see it or whether it’s only me.
She takes a step toward me, imploring me with her eyes. They are pale blue in the light of the Elyria web high above us. “But tomorrow’s the last day of the week. I have to help my team.”
“Not tomorrow.”
“Now, wait a minute—”
“Only you would argue against a holiday.”
She glares at me. “Because I’m worried about what I’ll be doing instead!”
I understand her concern, but I can’t tell her. It would endanger not only her, but others who’ve already been harmed enough. All I can say is: “You’ll find out.” My voice turns to a snarl, my frustration getting the better of me. “Now get inside and bathe.”