Page 50 of A Hunt Bound in Blood
“We’ll be fine,” he stated. “Come on.”
“We’ll be fine?” I repeated as I followed him down the road. “What, are you going to read the clue?”
“Yes.” He said it so casually, as though it was no big deal.
I gawked at his back. “You speak Ancient Perganic?”
He shrugged, his muscular shoulders rising and falling. “Standard education for the heirs of Karhasan. Some of our treaties are written in the old tongue, and we need to be able to understand them. So before you panic over our imminent demise, let’s find the cave and see what we’re dealing with.”
I blinked and trailed after him without further argument. What were the odds that I should be travelling with one of the few people in the world who would be able to read the riddle we needed to survive this next step? With every passing day, I had to accept that the Fates had been more at play on this mission than King Evaniel.
It took us another few hours before a cave mouth came into view, half hidden behind some towering maple trees. Although we had no way of knowing this was the correct cave, my memory of the rough location and Tersey’s references to certain landmarks in the area made me hopeful.
Cammon led the way, and I could only trust that he wasn’t walking into danger the farther we wandered into the tunnel. When we rounded a curve and the cave mouth vanished, so did the rest of the sunlight. Curvy water, my rounded behind. Cammon had been right that Tersey’s mention of a river had been metaphorical, but this was strange, even by the mad mage’s standards.
I leaned into my vampiric nature to help me navigate the darkness, and slowly the larger details came into view—the smooth walls and low ceiling, which grew increasingly narrower and lower the longer we walked. I didn’t boast the same level of night vision as Cammon, but I was aware when we turned the final corner and stepped into a wide, round room with a curved ceiling. The space was at least four metres in diameter, and a pedestal stood in the middle of an otherwise empty floor.
Nothing gave away the room’s intention. Had it always been a natural formation, or had Tersey used his magic to create an entire cavern? The pedestal, which appeared to have grown out of the ground, had to be his work.
I circled the room, taking slow steps in an attempt to make out any obscured details. “Probably safest if we don’t create a light in here until we know what traps he set. Is your eyesight good enough to read in the dark?”
“It is,” Cammon said absently, already distracted as he leaned towards the pedestal, smart enough not to touch anything until he’d assessed the situation. Tersey had proved all too often how much he loved to catch the unwary in his deathtraps.
I finished my tour of the room and ended at Cammon’s side. There had been nothing of note except for a series of strange notches on the back wall. I’d kept my distance from them, not wanting to accidentally set anything off before Cammon was ready, but my innards churned with foreboding. If something blocked our way out, we would be stuck in here with whatever those notches did.
At the thought, my heart thundered in my ears, and my palms grew clammy.
“What is it?” Cammon asked, looking at me over his shoulder with concern. “Are you all right? Your heart is racing.”
Had he always been standing so close, or had one of us moved without me realizing it? But there he was, right in front of me, reaching out and setting his palm against my chest, seemingly without thinking.
As soon as he made contact, my pulse grew more frantic. “I’m okay,” I said, my shaking voice belying my answer. “Can’t say I’m a fan of being tucked away back here, so maybe we move things along?”
Even in the darkness, my vampiric sight took in the way his throat shifted under the force of his swallow. “Right. Yeah.” His voice had taken on a grated edge to it that tightened my core and urged me to lean into him.
He removed his hand from me and returned his attention to the pedestal, and I swore I wasn’t disappointed by the disappearance of his heat.
His brow furrowed as he continued to read. “I will say his Ancient Perganic needed some work. There’s room for a bit of interpretation in what this says, but regardless of whether it’s potayto or potahto, it’s not pleasant.”
I grimaced. “I’d be shocked if it were. I’m starting to think the guy didn’t know the meaning of the word.”
Cammon chuckled, though his frown didn’t lessen. “Bear with my translation, but here goes. ‘In the depths of the darkness, a flame will awaken should the wrong procedure be taken.’”
My scorn must have been audible because Cammon flashed me a grin that had my already aching centre begging for more of his touch. I stepped away from him and crossed my arms. “His rhymes are getting worse.”
“That seems to be the last one he attempted here. Small blessings. ‘Speak the words of friends long dead, of those struck down by the sword of Calanthruin, and of the gods who grieved their loss.’”
“The sword of Calanthruin?” I asked. “I know that name...” I made to pull my notebook from my pack only to remember it was gone. After allowing myself a moment to mourn, I wracked my memory instead. “I’ve only come across it once, maybe twice. Another old relic that was believed to be a myth. Or maybe lost. Either way, no one’s seen or heard of it in centuries.”
“May I continue?” Cammon asked, the corner of his mouth curled upwards. “Or would you prefer to be sidetracked by yet another treasure?”
My cheeks warmed, and I let out an abashed laugh. “Continue, Your Highness.”
“‘Speak the words, then run swift as you can, lest the fires that awaken consume you to ash.’ He needed a bit more work on that last one, but I suppose he can have credit for effort.”
I eyed those notches on the far wall. “So we need to say the right words, grab the clue, then run before those notches spit fire. Am I understanding that correctly?”
Cammon watched the wall with narrowed eyes, as though he, like me, didn’t trust that they wouldn’t go off spontaneously. “I guess we should be grateful he gave us the warning.”