Page 137 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
She came towards him, holding out the blanket, and draped it over his shoulders.
“I have nightmares too,” she said. “Usually about Cass. Sometimes about other things. Failure. Death. Losing control.” She tightened the blanket around him, and slid beside him, not quite touching. “I’m not saying that my trauma competes with yours or even that I know what that’s like, I’m just saying… I understand being afraid. I understand not wanting others to see that part of you, and… maybe we’re both wrong? It shouldn’t be so terrifying to admit we’re terrified.” She swallowed. “I’m embarrassed by my own failings, but yours… I don’t even see them as failings. I just see them as a part of you. Silly to hold you in better regard than I hold myself, but… there you go.”
Caer inhaled. “I don’t know,” he said, not meaning a word of it, “I am fairly spectacular.”
Aislinn laughed, a sound that could break apart thunder. “But it makes sense, what you’re saying. Because I hold you in higher regard than I hold myself. Higher than anyone, actually.”
A pause, solid and insubstantial as shadow, stretched out between them.
“Well, don’t tell Minerva,” Aislinn said eventually. “She might have your head. Insubordination and all.”
“I think ‘crown princess’ outranks exiled former one.”
“Are you going to tell her that?”
“Absolutely not.”
She nudged his shoulder, before scooting upright and collecting something from the pocket of her discarded trousers. She came back to him, tugging on one of her gloves. She held out her hand. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
“Are you staying?”
“If you’ll let me. Beau’s a wriggler anyway.”
She guided him back to the bed and slid them both under the covers, making a half-hearted barricade between them, still holding his hand over it.
“You’ll overheat,” Caer told her.
“It’s worth it,” she said. “You’reworth it, Caer. I know you doubt it. I knowwhyyou doubt it. I know I would too, if I were you. But I’m afraid I would do quite a lot for you, and you’re just going to have to accept that.”
Caer breathed, her words brushing against his chest. “All right,” he said, wishing more than everything he could hold her, a want that could break apart stone. “All right.”
Thefollowingday,theydescended down another level into caves that glimmered with obsidian and deep, bubbling pits of tar. Everything seemed sharper here, the rocks pointed like blades and shining like steel, and the slightest movement echoed like thunder.
“Stay alert,” Minerva warned, as steam spurted beneath the floor. “There’s a lot of trip hazards, and if you fall… you may not get back up.”
Luna’s wargi deftly leapt out of the way. “This is fun,” she said, her voice high and trembling. “Beats monsters, right?”
The rest of the dwarves groaned. “Why would you say that?” Flora hissed. “Inviting trouble! Honestly!”
“I’m trying to be optimistic!”
“Surely you can’t invite trouble just by speaking it?” Beau queried.
The dwarves turned to glare at him.
“Apparently, I am mistaken.”
Yet, despite Luna’s slip-up, nothing happened for most of the morning. No one slipped or fell, and, when the terrain became less treacherous, any monsters they encountered gave them a wide berth.
They stopped to rest in a cave around midday—Aislinn was once more relying on the others to keep time—before resuming their quest. A few hours later, they came across another ruined settlement—little more than a few stony huts and a crumbled wall around them. Much of the stone had melted beneath a steady drip of water, the rock resembling wax.
It was not an ideal rest spot. “We’ll press on,” Minerva insisted.
They crept onwards, into a cavern almost pitch-black. Even Aislinn’s eyes struggled to adjust, and she imagined Beau’s were not much better. Only a thin, narrow light protruded into the dark, illuminating the faintest of shadows.
“Min?” Diana asked. “Should we light the torches?”
Minerva stilled. “No,” she said. “They’ll be like a beacon. Trust in the wargis. Aislinn, Beau—would you take the lead?”
