The Hour of the Crow

Chapter 23: A Reptile Guide

During the course of his life, Arran had broken into many houses and squeezed himself into the tightest of spaces to escape a wary guard's searching gaze. Yet, he had never felt as restless as he did now, as though the darkness watched him with a thousand pairs of eyes. The faint, red glow of the flames licking at Inna's hands was their only source of light in this labyrinth of cramped corridors. His head had scraped against the low ceiling so many times already that a dull headache spread across his scalp and his lower back hurt with the strain of walking hunched like an old man. The carpet, though light at first, now pressed onto his shoulder with the cumbersome weight of a bag of flour.

Conversation had faded to a halt a long time ago. Inna led the way silently, only pausing at a crossroads to whip her head this way and that for a while, to choose the direction her gut steered her toward in the end. The feline swaying of her hips formed a great distraction for Arran's overworked mind. With her back turned to him, he could watch her for as long as he liked, and imagine how he'd love to run his hands down the curved line of her waist ...

The gods curse you, Arran, he internally scolded himself. Maybe he should have accepted that Rasirian noblewoman's repetitive invitations to her bedroom after all, instead of pining over a princess. That ought to have satisfied his needs for a while. Ah well, too late for that now.

His chin bumped against the back of Inna's head. Lost in his longing daydreams, he hadn't noticed that she had stopped walking. She faltered, her arms flailing in the air, and he caught her around the waist before she could topple over the edge of a steep chasm. The carpet dropped onto the stone floor with a muffled thud.

A wavering breath rolled across the length of her spine. "Habi Onshra, that was close. What were you thinking?"

I was thinking about you. "Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her. "I got distracted. How are we going to cross that?" He gestured at where the ground had split in two behind her. His heart still palpitated in his chest, just like it had when his mother had caught him stealing candy at a vendor's stall as a child.

She scratched her neck. "Give me a moment."

She rubbed her palms together. The flames in them grew into a ball of pulsating fire, which she tossed at the dark crack. It floated above the chasm and illuminated the path on the other side, too far to jump. Climbing down was not an option, even if they'd had the right equipment: at least a dozen iron spikes waited at the bottom for any inattentive treasure seeker to fall in.

Arran swallowed. "If these are the normal traps, I can't wait to see what the magical ones look like."

Inna elbowed him in the ribs, hard enough to elicit a grunt from him. "Don't jinx it." Her eyes darted to the carpet on the floor. "Besides, why do we have a flying carpet if we're never going to ride it? Hop on; we'll have crossed this chasm in a heartbeat."

He could have kicked himself for not having thought of such a simple solution sooner. Disgruntled, he sank down onto the worn carpet and clenched his fingers around its edges when it took off. Both of them groaned in pain as Inna's navigational skills led them a bit too close to the ceiling.

"Watch it, woman," he grumbled, rubbing his maltreated scalp.

"Oh, stop whining already. I'd like to see how you'd fare flying this thing in such a tight space."

He poked her in the side. She yelped, startled, and glared over her shoulder when he erupted into a fit of laughter. Of course, this was too much of the good stuff for his poor lungs, and his body heaved with violent coughs until he retched.

"There, justice," Inna mumbled, although her warm hand on his knee was comforting.

The coughing fit left him completely exhausted. Red-eyed, he let Inna pull him to his feet on the other side of the chasm, leaning against the wall for support. His hair stuck to his forehead, wet with sweat. After she had rolled up the carpet again, she walked up to him and brushed the locks away.