Page 14 of Crown of Ashes and Awe

Her dark brows rose. “Why?”

He had to look away. “I thought you wished to hide your gender. A boy wouldn’t let others see weakness.”

A noise escaped her. A decidedly female noise. “You’re saying men don’t cry?”

He ignored the taunt. “If you mean to discard your disguise?—"

She shrugged. “The Prospectors hardly matter now, do they?”

He choked, caught off guard by the idea that the myth persisted, but she obviously believed it. “They put an end to that Prospector nonsense over a hundred years ago.”

Her mouth fell open. “You’re mistaken.”

“Don’t tell me. You read about it in a book?”

“I did.”

“And just how old was this book?” When she didn’t answer, he moved off and sat against the wall with Sweetie and Minkin between them.

* * *

Asper

I dragged my foot along the sand-covered rock, creating a circle. From my pocket, I took out my sack of ground dragonspice and sprinkled it along the line, careful not to use too much. My modest sack would have to last until we were well beyond the canyon, and I honestly didn’t know how long that would take. I’d studied maps of Hestia but speeds of travel varied.

“What are you doing there,” Sweetie growled.

“It’s dragonspice to keep the curltails away. And the serpents.”

He snorted. “We are sitting upon rock.”

I was tempted to point out that half the canyon was sand, but I didn’t want to share my rations with someone who was obviously too proud to fear the poisonous, ill-tempered creatures that hunted throughout the night. And if he didn’t have the manners to respect the warnings of a local, he would suffer whatever lessons the canyon sought to teach him.

Minkin, on the other hand, stood and made a circle just as I had. Once she was seated, I happily sprinkled my precious spice around her, then tossed some on the wall behind her. When I turned to see who else might like protection, Tearloch shook his head, and the brothers rolled their eyes and turned their backs.

While I got comfortable, a rhythmic, buzzing sound announced that Tearloch was already asleep. Either that, or he was pretending to avoid further conversation. The horned one still watched to see if I might do something else that might amuse him, but I had no more rituals to perform. With the spice in place, and the grumpy beast taking the first watch, I completely relaxed.

Sleep was out of the question, but I could at least rest my eyes while I sifted through possible reasons Demius had demanded that I hide my gender. If not for the Prospectors, then why?

The horror of Demius’ body lying on the ground, headless and bloody, inserted itself into my thoughts. I washed it away with the image of a storm burst further up the canyon, the rain rushing into the gully from every angle. In my imagination, the waters converged into a torrent that snaked its way along the red rock. Our burning shelter was now fully engulfed in flames. Demius’ body was lost to their heat and hunger. Nothing left but rage—orange and red with tips of yellow and shadows of blue.

And beneath it all, the sealed library went on sleeping.

The roar of water drowned out the fire’s murmur and crackling…just before it rolled through our stretch of the gully, escaped its banks, and submerged the burning house. In the darkness, the ground was nearly leveled, proving how greedy the fire had been. A fully consumed meal. A table washed clean. Nothing left but scorched rock and Demius’ secrets camouflaged beneath.

Also scorched was my mind, my heart, with my secrets buried deep. All but the one, though. Tearloch had already exposed me as a woman. So, in the company of him and his friends, I could never take that secret back.

And so I slipped off to sleep, drowning in grief and imagined flashwaters. Near dawn, I woke to the screams of a large animal. It took a minute for me to remember where I was and who I was with, since much had changed since I’d closed my eyes.

Sweetie lay on his back, writhing under the weight of Tearloch, who was seated on top of him, holding him down while the others picked at his body, all of them trying to avoid the thrashing horns. They had wrestled the big man’s clothes off and were plucking curltails from his skin. Each time they pulled one of the egg-sized creatures free, Sweetie screamed in outrage.

I got to my feet and dug into my pocket. “Stop,” I said. “That’s unnecessary.”

Tearloch looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. “We must get them off. They’re poisonous.”

Sweetie tensed, holding still as he watched me reach for one of the creatures on his chest.

“Here, now. You see? Pinch them behind their arms and they release.” After pulling one free without causing pain, I chucked the pest high against the wall where it latched on, then disappeared into a crevice, free to torture another day.

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