Page 89 of The Queen's Huntsman
ChapterForty-One
The interior of the shaft grew warm—in part, because Málik’s body temperature was heating it. Gwendolyn wiped sweat out of her eyes with her arm as she climbed to the next blade, pulling off each in turn and dropping them below.
Clearly, it had been some time since these upper blades were exposed to water. They were drier, and easier to remove, but they were so fragile they were close to being worthless.
The ascent along the remaining blades was precarious. Should she slip and fall, they would both plummet into the water, and even if they could survive till the tide moved out again, her chance to retake this city would be lost. The blades could be repaired without a serious production. There would be no second chances.
Much had deteriorated as her father grew ill—far more than the land itself, and this was something she would need to address when she could.
Retaking the city was only the beginning of the work she must undertake.
Even now, despite that she still had doubts she could do it all, she was not about to be thwarted any more than she would allow a rotting piece of wood to stand in her way.
Tugging each in turn, she sighed with relief as they came undone.
“Make way for another,” she warned Málik, and then smiled as she heard him curse when the wood clattered down, thwacking briefly against his head before tumbling down through the remainder of the tunnel beneath them.
“I told you not to come,” she said, despite that he hadn’t complained.
“At this rate, I should be covered by bruises before the battle is waged.”
“Oh, really? Do you bruise?” Gwendolyn asked, sweat dripping from her forehead onto her nose.
“Everyone bruises,” he said. “I bleed, too, while we’re at it,” he said. “Just in case you wondered.”
“How should I know what flows through your veins?” Gwendolyn countered. “For all I know, ’tis molten lava, hot as you are making this tunnel.”
“What do you expect? Without the heat of the sun, we are devoid of warmth in the Underworld. I have told you, Gwendolyn, the goddess arms her creatures accordingly.”
“And your teeth? Will you tell me now what gives you sustenance?”
“What do you think? I eat what you eat. We simply do not need so much of it.”
“So then, Esme lied? You do not eat babies or drink blood?”
“Well,” he said, haltingly. “Some of us do. I do not…. not precisely. And yet, if in truth, if you offered me your throat to drink from, I could be tempted.”
Gwendolyn stopped to consider that, perching herself onto the next blade, remembering the time he’d kissed her, pricking her lip, drawing blood. He’d lapped so greedily at her lips. The memory gave her a shiver—not of fear. Still, she didn’t like his answer, so when the next blade dropped, she hoped it thumped his head.
“Ouch!” he said. “Something tells me you are enjoying this.”
“Perhaps I am. What else have you not told me?”
“Quite a lot, I imagine,” he said.
Gwendolyn encountered a few blades that were completely gone, disintegrated, and she imagined they’d broken off on their own. They were probably floating down there somewhere. In fact, there were three altogether that were entirely broken on both sides, and if it weren’t for Málik, she couldn’t have reached the next rung. As much as she loathed to admit it, they made a good team—particularly when he was actually being helpful.
If only he would tell her the truth—all of it. “You know, I could stop here, keep you confined indefinitely until you deign to tell me everything.”
“Go on. Do it,” he dared. “Your belly will grumble long before mine, and you will lose the chance to take your city. What else do you want to know? As I’ve already told you, Gwendolyn, I do not eat so much as you do. We simply do not have a vast supply of flora and fauna below since your kindred saw fit to cheat us of our lands.”
“Cheat you?”
“Aye,” he said. “When we agreed to cede the choice of lands to the victor, we did not anticipate that you would banish us below, like rabbits and moles.”
“You sound bitter over it,” Gwendolyn suggested. “One would think that you were the very one swindled?”
He didn’t respond for the longest time, and Gwendolyn’s brows lifted. “Were you?”
