Alysium

by Tiffany Pelletier

  “It is,” said Ranelle matter-of-factly, “I've had my hand on it since the shaft started.”

  “How can this be?” asked Gideon incredulously.

  “You tell me,” said Ranelle, taking her hand away, “The only way to make rock this smooth and glassy is with heat, am I right?

  “Yeah, the only rock I’ve seen this smooth was cracked with pyromite,” said Gideon, “but I’ve never seen a vein of pyromite this big before.”

  “Could the walls have been smoothed with pyrus?” she thought aloud, unsure if the oil could even burn hot enough to smooth that much stone.

  “Unlikely,” replied Gideon, who was deep in thought, “I don't have an explanation.”

  “Who might know?” asked Ranelle.

  “You don't understand Ranelle,” he said, eying her, “there's no one who can construct a tunnel like this, I'd bet my life on it.”

  “Okay, who built it then?” asked Ranelle slowly.

  “I don't know,” said Gideon honestly.

  Ranelle stared at the wall with distaste before moving on, Gideon following closely behind her.

  “Maybe there will be clues up ahead,” said Ranelle hopefully. They followed the corridor for several more paces before the lantern light illuminated yet another wood-framed doorway.

  As Gideon and Ranelle cautiously entered the supply room, the flickering light from their lantern illuminated a scene of disarray. There were empty shelves and pots smashed on the floor. The contents of baskets had been dumped out and rummaged through, then discarded.

  “This place looks ransacked!” said Ranelle in disbelief.

  “I don't understand,” said Gideon as he ran his hands through his curly hair with frustration, “The last cave-in should have caught them off guard. This room should have been fully stocked!”

  The two of them exchanged looks of disappointment as they separated to search the room for anything that might be usable. Ranelle probed the shelves while Gideon kneeled and pawed through the scattered supplies left on the floor. As Ranelle checked each shelf with no luck, she dropped to her hands and knees to scan the ground as well. Sure enough, as her hand slipped underneath the lowest shelf, her fingertips grazed a small bundle that was wedged under it. She tried to pull the bounty out, but it wouldn't budge.

  “Gideon,” she called out, “can you lift this shelf so I can get at what’s underneath?”

  “Sure,” he said as he hurried over, bracing the shelf with his hands. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she said, her hands already under the shelf, waiting to retrieve whatever lay hidden.

  “One…two…three!” counted Gideon as he heaved upward, elevating the heavy wooden shelf just enough for Ranelle to seize the bounty.

  “Got it!” said Ranelle with excitement as she pulled the bundle out so Gideon could lower the shelf down. Sitting on the ground next to Ranelle, he watched as she opened the small pouch which fit neatly inside her cupped hands.

  “Anything we can use?” asked Gideon, peering down at the opened bundle.

  Ranelle dumped the contents of the pouch into her lap. Looking down, the tightness she’d had in her chest immediately subsided as she felt relief wash over her.

  “This is spirit; we can use it to purify stagnant water so it’s safe to drink.” Ranelle took the sprigs of the plant and set them aside. Even though they were many cycles old, Ranelle could still smell the dark brown plant’s pungent scent–spicy and flavorful. Next, she pulled out several light green colored leaves that had tiny hairs all over the surface.

  “I've never seen those before,” said Gideon.

  “I'm not surprised considering it only grows in Cinder.”

  “Cinder?” said Gideon with concern, “I didn’t think anything could grow in Cinder.”

  “Almost nothing,” explained Ranelle, “however this little plant grows in the one place that’s abundant in Cinder.”

  “But Cinder’s where the dead are sent,” he said with discomfort, “it’s just a large graveyard.”

  “Exactly,” said Ranelle brightly, “this plant is called sole, and it happens to grow on top of graves.”

  “On graves?” Gideon said, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

  “Yeah,” said Ranelle, shoving him playfully with her shoulder to loosen him up, “it can bring life back to those on the brink of death.”

  “Oh–kay...” said Gideon slowly, “will that help Abree?”

  “No,” said Ranelle shortly,” however, this might.” Ranelle lifted the last plant from her lap, holding it by its stem so Gideon could see.

  “Harbringer...” he muttered under his breath with relief, immediately recognizing the familiar healing flower.

  Ranelle nodded, holding up the plant so they could see its well-known white five-petal pattern. “Harbringer will ease the swelling and hopefully stop the bleeding.”

  “Then we've found what we need?” asked Gideon, hopefully.

  “Almost,” said Ranelle, adding the pouch of herbs to her satchel, “I’m just going to look for a few more supplies.”

  Gideon nodded with approval before helping her to her feet.

  “I found a water bladder, a blanket, and this...” he said, holding up a small red bound book, “it's the station log–kept by each team leader that supplied the station.”

  “What do we need that for?” asked Ranelle as she pawed around in search of supplies.

  “I thought it might be useful to see what the team leaders had to say about this station...your parents could even be in here.”

  Ranelle stopped her search, glancing at him. His eyes were bright, despite the darkness that enveloped them. “I suppose it's possible,” she said, looking at the book with sudden hunger, “thank-you for thinking of them.” She smiled, then continued searching for supplies, a tinge of red creeping up her cheeks, which didn't go unnoticed by Gideon.

  He stopped what he was doing, quietly approaching her. As Ranelle rummaged through a basket of discarded items, she tried not to show she was aware of his approach. Instinctively, her muscles tensed when she felt his hand grasp her elbow.

  “Elle,” he whispered as he pulled her gently away from the basket and forced her to look at him, “why won't you let me in?”

  “Don't, Gideon,” she warned. Feeling her cheeks with her hands, she realized how red they must be as they were hot to the touch.

  “Why? I want to be closer to you,” Gideon pleaded, trying to pull her nearer to him.

  “You can't...” she said, wrenching out of his grasp, “anyone who gets close, leaves their mark.”

  She pointed to her hair to illustrate the chop job her governess had given her a few nights before.

  “Elle,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I won't hurt you.”

  “I think you will,” said Ranelle firmly, “whether you mean to or not.”

  Gideon shook his head in disagreement, however before he could argue, he was interrupted as a timid voice called out.

  “Hello?”

  “Lara?” Ranelle replied, turning toward the station doorway, her heart leaping as she recognized the owner of the call.

  “Ranelle? Oh, thank the gods,” sounded the voice, which utterly melted with relief. “Over here, Charlie! This way.”

  A moment later, Lara and Charlie, with a nearly unconscious Abree propped up between them, entered the supply station in a hurry.

  “What happened?” Gideon demanded, upset with the disobedience and with the interruption.

  “She's getting worse,” said Lara, panting from the effort it had taken them to carry the massive girl all the way there.

  “Ye–ah,” sputtered Charlie, who was also recovering, “she’s really sweaty an' she’s all faint and stuff.”

  In confirmation, Abree suddenly began swatting madly at the air as if she was being attacked by an invisible foe.

  “What the hell...” spat Gideon with irritation as Abree swatted him hard in the face.

  “It's not her fault
, she’s lost too much blood,” Ranelle excused, turning to Lara, “set her down, and you and I can make a poultice for her wounds.”

  Lara nodded anxiously as she and Charlie propped Abree against the station wall. Leaving Charlie to keep an eye on her, Lara collected the supplies that Ranelle listed out for her, one by one. A few minutes later, Ranelle was grinding the dried harbringer petals into powder.

  “Anyone have any water left?” she asked the group.

  “I have a few sips,” said Charlie, reluctantly passing his water bladder to Ranelle.

  “Thanks,” she said gratefully as she stirred the water into the harbringer powder.

  “You'll need a way to heat it, won't you?” asked Lara.

  Ranelle nodded with a frown. She hadn't a clue how she was going to cook the poultice to release the restorative properties of the harbringer petals.

  “I've got that covered,” said Gideon quietly.

  “What? How?” asked Lara, her eyebrows raised.

  “Just let me know when it's done and ready to heat,” snapped Gideon as he left the supply station, retreating into the main mineshaft tunnel.

  Lara shot a stern look at his retreating backside, looking put out. “What's his problem?” she asked.

  “Not sure,” Ranelle lied, “why don't you stay here and watch over Abree–I'll get this finished.” She held up the poultice, which was blended and ready for heating. Lara nodded and left Ranelle to sit between Charlie and Abree.

  As Lara sat down, Ranelle watched as Charlie gave her a small smile, handing her a cloth so she could dab the sweat from the injured girl’s forehead. With Abree and the others settled for the moment, Ranelle left the supply room and went out into the main tunnel alone.

  Chapter Ten

  Walking down the long silent shaft, sand shuffling beneath her feet as she moved, Ranelle’s anxieties grew each step further down the mineshaft she took. Her heart beat loudly within her chest, echoing inside her ears–the sound was deafening.

  She had feelings for Gideon, she realized this, but they made her feel weak, vulnerable. She was terrified of feeling helpless. She closed her eyes, remembering how Abree had taken advantage of her weakness. She still couldn’t believe how she’d foolishly turned her back on the larger girl the other day.

  She sighed as she walked–she was full of so much regret. She didn’t want to have any regrets when it came to Gideon.

  What if something happens to him?

  She couldn't bear the attachment for it to simply be torn away. She wasn’t sure she could handle losing anyone else close to her. She hadn’t felt whole since her parents had died. She wished more than ever for their advice. Ranelle had been so young when they’d died; she’d never been able to ask them questions about relationships or becoming an adult. She was so confused. Being around Gideon only made it worse.

  As she neared where the station one tunnel branched off from the main shaft, she heard sounds of exertion.

  “Gideon?” she called softly.

  “I'm here,” he responded after a moment’s pause.

  Ranelle left the supply station tunnel to find Gideon kneeling on the stone floor, working on something.

  “Is the poultice ready?” All the softness in his voice was gone.

  “Yes,” she said quietly, feeling uncomfortable. She knelt by his side, handing over the bowl of paste she’d made from the harbringer petals.

  Slowly, Gideon took a large unlit bowl of pyrus and poured it carefully onto the bare stone ground. Ranelle opened her mouth, ready to reprimand him for wasting the precious fuel, fully expecting the pyrus oil to run in all directions. She was promptly humbled as the spot Gideon chose to pour the pyrus, conveniently featured a large divot worn in the stone floor from the passage of many feet over time. As the pyrus pooled into the dimple, Gideon pulled out his strike stones, skillfully hammering them together as sparks fell into the oily pool below.

  Ranelle bent forward slightly, unsure if the pyrus would ignite. The oil sputtered as each spark fell into it, before finally lighting and erupting into a small blaze. Before Ranelle could move out of the way of the spreading flames, Gideon grabbed her, swiftly yanking her out of the fire’s path.

  As he held her, she caught the look of worry on Gideon's face.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said, breathing fast as he set her back onto the floor, away from the flames. She took a moment to gather herself before turning to him, her voice quiet, “you're always looking out for me...why?”

  Gideon was surprised at her directness. “Why?” he repeated, staring at her as if looking at her for the first time.

  Ranelle nodded. “I didn't ask for you to be here. I’ve never looked for your attention,” she said. “But, you’re here anyway.”

  Gideon measured his words carefully before he spoke, “I'll always be here.”

  “Why?” she pressed.

  “Because you’ve never wanted anything from me.”

  “What do you mean?” Ranelle questioned, her eyebrows raised.

  “Being the Regent's son sucks,” said Gideon earnestly, shoving his hands into his pants’ pockets, “there are so many people who want something from me. No one likes me for me. Then I met you. You’ve been the only girl I’ve met who didn’t throw themself at me. You’ve never wanted anything from me at all. You're genuine–different.”

  “Different,” echoed Ranelle slowly, turning to face him.

  “Special,” he recanted, “you’re very special to me.”

  Ranelle gave him a sheepish look, but he gazed back at her expectantly, and she felt her heart rising in response. He took a cautious step closer before reaching out tentatively for her hands.

  Ranelle instinctively thought to pull away, but something inside made her pause until he’d taken her hands with his own.

  “No one’s ever looked out for me, not since my parents died,” she admitted.

  “Things change for the better sometimes,” he whispered softly, “you just need to let it happen.”

  He held on firmly to her hands, slowly pulling her body in toward his. Ranelle gazed up at him as his hands let go of hers, reaching out to grasp behind her elbows, pulling her in even closer. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her gently as she buried her head into his chest, closing her eyes. As she breathed in, she recognized the mixture of fresh earth and sweat.

  As she stood within Gideon’s arms, she was reminded of her father. His arms had always been her safe place. She felt some of that comfort now. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his back, feeling his muscles clenched tightly under his loose shirt. He held on to her tightly for what seemed like ages until his arms gradually loosened their grip. Pulling her away from him slightly, he looked into her eyes. Glancing up at him, she gave a shy smile until she suddenly realized what they were supposed to be doing.

  “Oh, the pyrus–,” Ranelle said abruptly, her face forlorn, “we need to finish the poultice!”

  “Right,” Gideon said, his features drooping, his disappointment evident as they separated to finish their task.

  Ranelle set the clay pot, containing the harbringer paste, down on top of the burning pyrus. The flames licked the outside of the vessel, leaving black smudges up the sides, however, the mixture inside started to bubble contently. A few awkward, quiet minutes later, it had heated sufficiently.

  “That should be enough,” said Ranelle with satisfaction, shooting a sideward glance at Gideon. He nodded, using his boot to slide the pot out from the smoldering pool of pyrus. Ranelle waved the steam away and blew on the mixture to cool it. After a minute of blowing and stirring, the poultice was cool enough to use. Ranelle took out a clean cloth, dumped the warm paste into its center, then folded the sides up to make a bundle.

  “Is that it?”

  “Yes,” Ranelle confirmed, getting to her feet, “we need to apply this to Abree's wounds.”

  “Lead the way,” said Gideon with a forced smile.
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  Ranelle assumed he wasn’t thrilled to have the others for company again. She grinned secretly into the darkness of the tunnel as she walked back to the supply room. At that moment, she felt lighter than air.

  “All done,” said Ranelle as she entered the supply room and approached Abree. The girl was overly pale, sweat dripping down her forehead. Both of her eyes were closed, and her eyelids were purple and veiny.

  “Good thing,” said Charlie as he motioned towards Abree, “I’m not sure if she’ll wake again.”

  Ranelle frowned and sat next to Abree's injured leg. She gently unwrapped the bandage from the wound, exposing the damaged flesh underneath.

  Why am I doing this?

  Her stomach lurched. She began to perspire as she felt her cheeks grow balmy. Desperate to be done with the task, she applied the poultice deftly, tying the bundle to the foot with a clean piece of cloth.

  “It’ll be a few hours before we know if it’s working,” Ranelle said with a frown, blinking as sweat threatened to drip into her eyes. “We should all get some sleep.” Guessing the time was near morning, she knew that none of them would do well without rest.

  If she thought she'd meet resistance, she was mistaken. After she rose to cover Abree, she turned to find Charlie and Lara leaning against each other back-to-back, their heads reclining on each other’s shoulder.

  “They have the right idea,” whispered Gideon as he sat with his back up against the station wall, patting the space next to him with his hand, a playful look on his face. Ranelle grinned and walked over to join him. Dropping her satchel to the side, she wearily plopped to the ground as Gideon reached out, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her in close to him, and she gently laid her head against his shoulder, their legs stretched out and crossed side-by-side.

  After several hours of rest, Ranelle woke to find everyone else still sleeping. Everyone but Abree, whose eyes lingered on her and Gideon. Ranelle quickly rose and walked over to the injured teenager.

  As she sat down and lifted the side of the poultice-covered bandage, she was pleasantly surprised to see healthier-looking skin underneath. The bleeding had also stopped, and there were no further signs of swelling.