“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“Are you scared of water?” he asks.
“No.”
“Claustrophobic?”
“Not really.”
We stop when we come to a small crack in the natural rock. It’s just large enough for a man to crawl through, but it will be tight.
Avery turns to me. “What about the dark? Surely a brave adventuress like yourself isn’t scared of the dark.”
“I’m not frightened of the dark.” I peer at the hole and retrieve my boots from my pack. I’m not going in there barefoot. “Only wary of the things that inhabit it. Do you think anything lives in there?”
The captain kneels and begins to crawl into the cave. “Only one way to find out.”
***
The tunnel is lit by sporadic cracks in the rock above, but the tiny fissures do little to illuminate our path. I crawl on my knees, avoiding jagged rocks that obstruct the already difficult passage. I can just make out Avery’s silhouette in front of me.
He’s not a small man; his shoulders are broad, and he’s tall. I have no idea how he’s squeezing through.
The tunnel’s hot, and it smells like mildew and damp rock. It’s a musty, earthy fragrance that fills my nostrils and reminds me we’re all but trapped until we find the cavern.
“Avery?”
“Hmmm?” He grunts as he wriggles through a particularly tight spot.
“Are there forks in this tunnel? Is there a chance we’ll take the wrong route?”
“The diary doesn’t mention any.” His pack catches on the rock. “I’m caught on something. Will you see if you can free me?”
My fingers work blindly. “Does it say how far before we reach the pool?”
Once unhooked, he crawls forward. It’s darker ahead, and I nearly lose sight of him. Unease presses at my chest, but I refuse to think of the jagged rock walls surrounding us.
“A while.”
We continue to crawl forward. My back and hips begin to ache, and my palms grow sore. Every time I inch forward, I dread what my fingers might find. There’s sure to be insects in here, and where there are insects, there are spiders.
“At least we’re following a diary.” I stop to wipe sweat from my brow. “Can you imagine crawling through here, not even knowing where it leads?”
It’s so dark. I can’t see Avery now, can’t see anything. I hurry, thinking he got ahead of me.
“Oof!” I end up running right into him.
“You all right?” Avery asks.
I mutter that I am under my breath and roll my shoulders, trying to work out the kinks in them and my neck.
“You don’t happen to have a light charm on you, do you?” Avery asks. “I can’t see a thing.”
“I do,” I pant. “It’s somewhere in my pack. I don’t think I can get to it, and it’s not very strong anyway.”
The necklace sits in a pouch with a plethora of other weak, seldom-used charms. The only one I have that’s worth anything is a ring charmed with an ice spell I got from a caravan back in Reshire several years ago.
As hot as it is in this cave, I could use it right now.
“We’ll see if we can find a wider area, and then we’ll dig it out,” Avery answers. “I need to look at the diary.”
Something about his tone makes me nervous.
“Is something wrong?” My words sound sharper than I intend.
“No.”
“Avery…”
He lets out a low groan, sounding as if he’s trying to stretch. “It occurred to me that there is a chance—a very slim chance—that we may have taken the wrong cave.”
If I could see, which I cannot, I’m positive little black spots would mar my vision. Even in the dark, I begin to feel dizzy.
“I just want to check as a precaution.”
Fatigued, my arms begin to tremble. “Don’t you think that’s a precaution you should have taken before we entered the tunnel?”
“In hindsight, that would have been a good idea.”
My stomach rolls, and a bead of sweat rolls down my face. If it weren’t so hot in here, so dark, so tight…
“Lucia?” He sounds concerned. “Are you all right?”
The quick lunch we ate before we left the Serpent rolls in my stomach. “A little queasy…”
“May I remind you that if you get ill, you’ll be forced to crawl over it when we move on.”
I choke back a sickly laugh. “I hate you.”
“Where’s your anti-nausea charm?”
“I’m still wearing it.”
“Then you’re not truly sick. It’s just nerves.” Gently, he coaxes, “Take a deep breath, and it will pass.”
“Do you realize you’ve been present for every truly awful thing that’s ever happened to me?” I try to breathe as he’s instructed.
“Do you realize you’ve led a much more exciting life since I’ve been a part of it?”
I snort back a laugh and then take another deep breath. “Promise me this tunnel will end at a cavern with a pool.”
“I promise I’ll get us out of this tunnel one way or another.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Underwater Cavern
What feels like hours later, Avery lets out a relieved groan.
“Please tell me you’ve found the cavern,” I say.
“Lucia, we’ve found the cavern.”
He pulls himself out of the tunnel, growling as he stretches. Exhausted, I follow him. He reaches down to help me up, and I cry out as I stand. My muscles protest, sore from the strenuous crawl. I place my hands on my lower back and stretch. It’s a good pain, but it feels like fire nonetheless.
After a few moments, I assess the cavern. We managed to dig my light charm from the bottom of my pack. Where its dull light did a sufficient job in the tight tunnel, it’s too small to be of much help here. The dim glow reflects off wet rocks, and the gentle lapping of water echoes softly.
“You, uh…” Avery grimaces and plucks something from my hair—something that scurries away as soon as it drops to the ground.
Shuddering, I brush my hands over myself. “What was it?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Normally I’d argue, but in this instance, I’m going to take his word for it—especially when we must traverse that wretched tunnel again if we ever want to rejoin the world. I’m not sure it’s worth it. Perhaps we should make like moles and live here in the dark for the rest of our existence.
Avery walks to the edge of the pool, and I wander after him, leaving our packs by the edge of the tunnel.
“Have you ever used an underwater breathing charm?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“How does it work?” I try to act nonchalant about it, but I’m nervous. “Do you think we’ll sprout gills?”
“And fins.”
“Tease all you want; I think I’d make a fetching mermaid.”
Bumping my shoulder, he says, “You’d make a fetching anything.”
I stare at the black water, apprehensive. When Avery was speaking of the pool earlier, in my mind, I imagined a still body of water lit blue from some internal light. But it’s nothing like that. The water is the color of ink.
Even Avery’s apprehensive—we both are. Only a fool would jump right in without thinking about it first. After several moments, he nods to himself and digs the charmed ring from his pocket. Without a word, he strings it on the length of elven chain Gregory gave us.
“How should we go about this?” He dangles the chain between us.
“I’ve done this once with Sebastian using an elemental ice charm,” I say, awkwardly motioning with my hand. “We just sort of wrapped it around our wrists.”
Avery hands me the charm. “Show me.”
My breath catches in my throat, and memories pierce my heart. “We should put our packs on first.”
We retrieve our gear and strip down to our underthings so we can swim. Avery takes off hi
s boots just as I stash mine in my pack. Along with my dagger, Avery gave me a lightweight rapier to carry at my side. Before we left the Serpent, he swapped his preferred broadsword for a lighter blade as well—easier to swim with, he said.
I adjust my corset. It’s a soft version of the basquine I wear with Adeline’s fancy dresses, far easier to move in and, with thin straps over my shoulders, a bit more modest. I might be uncomfortable if it weren’t so dark and if the task in front of us weren’t so daunting.
Before I put my pack on, Avery stops me. He shakes the bag out and gives me a wry smile. “Just making sure you aren’t carrying any stowaways.”
I cringe as he helps me secure my pack.
Once we’re ready, we step to the edge of the pool again. The chain feels hot in my hand, and I shift, uncomfortable.
Control yourself.
I swallow, steel myself for what’s to come, and offer Avery my hand. He looks at it questioningly, and I wiggle my fingers. “Take it.”
Slowly, he slides his hand over mine. I expect him to clasp it in his palm, the same way you’d hold hands with a child, but he twines his fingers through mine. There’s something intimate about the locking of palms, of feeling your skin meet another’s.
He squeezes my hand. “Are you ready?”
I nod and loop the necklace around our wrists, twisting until I’m sure it won’t come loose but before it cuts off our circulation. We wait several moments for the charm to take effect, but I feel no different.
“How will we swim?” I ask.
“Together.”
“Easier said than done. How will we know the charm is working?”
Finally, Avery cracks his familiar smile. “We won’t drown.”
“Very reassuring.” I dip my foot in the pool first. “At least it’s as warm as the ocean.”
One of my secret fears was that it would be frigid, and we’d die of the cold before we surfaced on the other side. Now there’s no last excuse, and we’ve tarried long enough. I step in, and Avery follows. The rocks are sharp under my feet, but the water is soothing on my tired muscles. Avery wears my light charm, and it illuminates a small orb around us. The pool grows deeper, and soon we’re treading water.
“Do we hold our breath?” I ask.
“Might as well.”
Locking eyes, we synchronize our next inhale and let ourselves sink. At the last moment, I clench my eyes shut. I wait for my lungs to burn, but they never do. Slowly, I open my eyes. The water’s clearer than I expect. Tiny fish dart away from us, hiding in the shadows, but no vegetation grows below. I suppose it’s because there’s no light to support it.
Avery points down and ahead of us. The underwater cave is much larger than the tunnel we just emerged from, easily wide enough for us to swim side by side. We make our way toward it, awkwardly kicking and paddling, trying to find a unified rhythm.
Thankfully, once we reach the mouth of the cavern, we are able to do a combination of floating and walking. Eventually, as I adjust to the breathing charm, the feeling of claustrophobia and panic ebbs. But it’s still eerie swimming through this cave, only seeing a few yards ahead.
There’s very little life here, not much but the occasional fish. Their eyes are visible before the rest of them, and I startle at least a dozen times.
I’m not sure how long we’ve been down here when the tunnel begins to lighten. I want to ask Avery if he notices it as well, but I can’t. Soon, there’s no denying the water’s becoming brighter. It gives me confidence that we’re near the end, and I pull Avery along. He tugs me back, more cautious than I am—which is unlike the captain.
I give him a questioning look, but he’s peering ahead of us and reaching for the lightweight rapier at his side. Startled, I look ahead. I don’t see anything.
And then I do.
It’s a bright glow, almost green, and then it fades. It looks like an illuminated sea snake, and I shiver at the thought. The light fades as it twists around the rocks ahead.
There it is again. And another joins it.
I want to ask Avery what he thinks they are, and I grow frustrated with the forced silence.
We wait here, half-swimming, half-treading water, for several minutes. Whatever they are, they’re staying near the rocks. Perhaps we can sneak past them.
I pantomime my plan to Avery, which makes him purse his lips to hold back a laugh. I’m not very good with hand gestures, especially when one hand is clasped with his. Still, he somehow understands me, and we make our way forward.
The creatures will likely be skittish anyhow. They’ll probably dart into the rocks and hide until we’ve passed—unless they’re elemental beasts. They tend to be a bit hot-headed.
Before we’re any closer, I pull Avery back. I turn toward him and place my finger on the charm around his neck. The chain floats over his skin, almost weightless. He nods with understanding, and I clasp the pendant in my palm and break the chain. The tunnel goes dark, and we linger for another minute to allow our eyes to adjust.
Thin rays of light stream from between my fingers, but I don’t think they’ll be noticeable enough to give us away.
With our light gone, it’s easier to recognize the water is much lighter than it was when we first started—similar to the twilight hour. The creatures continue to flicker on and off. Now that there is no light to mar our vision, I find there are more than I first thought, and they are not sea snakes but eels. They glow not only green but blue, yellow, and orange. All of them are mesmerizing.
We inch along, moving slowly so as not to draw their attention. Avery draws his rapier and somehow manages to move through the water with it clutched in his hand. The farther we travel, the wider the tunnel becomes. When we’re almost to the creatures, our passage opens to a large cavern. Far above us, dim light streams through the water.
We’ve made it.
I motion upward and give Avery a yank. We simply must swim up. He pulls me back, eying the eels. I look, but I’m not sure why he’s so concerned. We’ll keep our distance.
After a moment, Avery nods. I count using my fingers, and on three, we both kick off the cavern floor and make our way to the surface. Both fatigued and unused to swimming together, we flail a bit.
I glance down, nervous. Sure enough, several of the curious eels peer at us from holes in their rocky home, intrigued. One darts out, thinks about coming after us, and then disappears into the rock. Avery’s a stronger swimmer than I am, and my pack weighs me down, but we’re almost there.
Unfortunately, I make the mistake of looking down again. One of the blue eels follows us, curious. It glides through the water, playing. Suddenly, it swims our way—and fast.
I drop the light charm as I fumble for the unfamiliar sword, but Avery’s faster than I am. He strikes the creature with his rapier, instantly ending its attack. Remnants of the creature’s element travel through the blade, making the steel glow blue and shocking Avery. He drops the sword and doubles over, sinking like a dead weight and pulling me with him.
Horrified, I grasp hold of the nearby rock wall and keep my hand clenched on Avery’s. He’s lighter in the water, but I can barely hold him. Still, I use the wall as an anchor, and I pull him up. The other eels writhe in their lair, hesitant to attack after witnessing their comrade’s demise.
I hurry, pulling for all I’m worth, cursing the water, the packs, the island, the ruby, and the captain.
Please, don’t let him be dead.
Before the eels gather the courage to attack, I break the surface of the water, gasping for sweet fresh air. I scramble over the rocky ledge, not bothering to take in my surroundings, and drag Avery up after me. It’s far more difficult to pull him without the water’s buoyancy assisting me.
With my free hand, I grasp under his arm and yank him with the other. He doesn’t even twitch when, with one last loud grunt, I pull him onto the ledge.
“Avery!” My voice is shrill, and my words echo off the cavern we’ve reached. Dim sunlight streams
from an entrance not twenty feet away.
I unwrap the elven chain from our hands, toss it to the side, pull the heavy pack from his back, and roll him over. It’s not easy; he must be made of pure muscle to weigh as much as he does. Frantic, I study his chest, praying that he’s breathing. I can’t tell.
“Wake up,” Icy claws of terror begin to sink into me. I place my fingers to the pulse point at his throat, but I can’t find a heartbeat.
“No.” I hover very near the edge of hysteria. I beg him to wake up, threaten him, cajole, all while trying to remember what I’m supposed to do.
What do I do?
Father saved a boy once who fell in a well—he breathed for him, brought him back. But that boy had almost drowned. Avery shouldn’t have water in his lungs, not with the breathing charm. Would it still work?
Desperately trying to remember what Father did, I open Avery’s mouth, plug his nose, and breathe.
He’s so cold.
This isn’t going to work. I’m doing it wrong.
No—I will not let him die. Again, I breathe for him, trying my best to copy Father’s actions.
Just when I’m about to give up, just when I’m about to let that hysteria take me, something amazing happens. After the third time I breathe into Avery’s lungs, he draws in a weak breath on his own. Shaking, I sit back, watching to make sure I didn’t imagine it. I only start to breathe myself once he groans and cracks his eyes open.
Sopping wet and frozen, I double over him, resting my forehead against his shoulder.
“Lucia?”
“I thought you were dead.” I’m a mess. Now that the worst is passed, hot tears stream down my face, and I sniffle like a child. I try to stop, but I’m too relieved.
Avery sits up slowly, locking me against his damp chest as he rises, and holds me against him. “I’m fine.”
But he doesn’t sound fine. He sounds awful.
“You’re frozen,” I say once I finally get control of myself.
Everything in our packs is going to be wet. It would be best to take Avery outside, let the hot sun warm him, but it’s darker now than it was, and the light won’t return until morning.
Greybrow Serpent (Silver and Orchids Book 2) Page 13