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38: Ignorance is Bliss

And then hands were on her, and she tried writhing away from them, and out of them. She shrieked, battering her fists against the hands that clasped around her chest, arms beneath her own armpits holding her tightly secure.

"Stop it Blayre." Caval's voice hissed in her ear, as she thrashed. "I've got you, I've got you." His voice was earnest as he righted her and set her on her feet. "Are you okay?" He lit one of the mage-light orbs, and searched her face with such concern that she wondered if he could ever think of her in the way that Gravelly Voice had described Conal's take on what their relationship could be - some miserable forced thing. Perhaps the translation of his look was that he was glad that he had preserved something so potentially valuable.

Blayre nodded numbly and he pressed her up against him, her face melding into his chest. She felt comforted, despite herself and her current misgivings and relaxed her shoulders into him.

"Let's go." He murmured into her hair, and then held her away from him, "Slowly though. It's too dark to be running full speed through here." He whispered, steadying her. She hadn't realized she was shaking and still clinging to him.

"Ok," She whispered past throat that was raw with yelling and thick with emotion. Everything that had just happened mere minutes ago felt like years.

Caval started forward, the light dimmed to almost nothing. She trailed along behind him, clasping the hand that he stretched out behind him.

"Can you feel his magic?" Caval asked, once they had gotten a little further.

"Barely," She whispered back. "He's drained himself almost to the last drop."

There was a pause, "That's good." Said Caval thoughtfully. "Then I can certainly take him on."

And now, not just because he had the dragon's egg, but also because of the vile words that man had said about her, she wanted Caval to destroy him.

They moved as quickly as possible through the cave, under Blayre's direction, until she could no longer feel Nasally Voice's magic tugging at her sense like a lead rope. Well, it had been more like a single thread, ready to break at any ounce of pressure.

"Can you feel the dragon egg though? The magic you felt before?"

They had stopped to take a few swigs of water. The cavern seemed endless. Falling into it had been a lot easier than getting out, Blayre thought. Not that she wanted to experience that ever again.

Blayre reached deep within herself, but shook her head, "Everything down here feels like that ancient magic."

"Maybe there are more of them," Caval suggested, and Blayre wasn't sure if she hoped that he was right or wrong.

"What are their names?" She asked, out of the blue, as they passed a wall of carved stone - front facing dragon heads with each scale in precise detail. The nostrils were flared, and Blayre felt obligated to shrink back from them as they passed through, afraid they might let out a burst of dragonfire at any moment.

"Whose names?" Asked Caval. He was still holding the dim magelight, and it cast a glow over his face. He looked more drawn and haggard than Blayre had ever seen him. She could have easily traced a finger down each of the lines, framing his cheeks. It was like he had aged overnight.

"Those mages."

"Ah," He said. "And how do you know that I know their names?"

Blayre felt frozen at that. Well, for one they know more about my intended future than I do apparently. But she chose to steer clear from that subject, however interested she was in learning the details of it.

"They mentioned your name - and the book. And Conal." She added as an afterthought.

Caval scuffed a not-so-polished boot against the smooth ground. "Their names are Hans and Bartley. Well," He glanced back in the direction they had come from. "His name was Hans."

Blayre paled at the thought of the stout, roughly voiced man. Hans. She corrected herself, swallowing a wave of nausea. Perhaps it had been better not knowing.

"He deserved it, you know." Caval said soothingly, "It was either kill or be killed. And as someone who knows Hans' past..." Caval's voice trailed off and she saw his throat bob in a swallow. She rested a hand on his arm. He had been trying to comfort her, but it seemed that in doing so he had drug up a less than pleasant piece of personal history.

"You can talk about it. If you need to." She offered.

He shook his head definitively, "Normally, I would take you up on that offer, my dear Blayre, but right now we definitely should focus on the task at hand." He placed a hand firmly on her shoulder and she reddened. My dear, Blayre. She shivered at the thought, but she wasn't certain if it was a good or bad kind of shiver. Mere hours ago, when they had so recently survived what could have been a fall to their deaths, the kiss had felt right. Realizing potential feelings for Caval had been simple.

But it seemed as though years, perhaps decades, had passed since that moment - Moon and Sun she had killed a man since then. She had never killed someone face-to-face. Had never watched the light leave someone's eyes at her own hand - a job that should be left to the God of Death. Sure she'd killed before - but at a distance. With a bow. It had been... impersonal.

"Okay," She took a deep breath. "Later though... when we're out of here," She waved an arm to the seemingly endless darkness surrounding them. "I would like to lend an open ear, as you always have for me." And I would also certainly like to discuss our potential arrange marriage.

It was ridiculous, she thought. Arranged marriages in Emares were not legal unless both involved persons agreed to it. That of course, didn't rule out the possibility of blackmail - Blayre was sure that many a person had succumbed to a less than desireable marriage. It was easy, especially with noble children, to threaten to cut them off from their inheritance for not agreeing to a marriage - and there were no laws against that.

Though, Blayre considered, glancing up at her companion as they began moving again, It seems that perhaps they're having him give it a go without the whole blackmail bit. But she still struggled to see Caval as anything but genuine. And when she looked back at their friendship over the past several months... nothing stood out as forced or wrong to her. Even the kiss they'd shared hadn't been pushy or obvious in any way.

Twelve hells, Blumore. She thought. Here you are stumbling around in a pitch black cavern, and these are the things you're fretting over, you're no better than Ainslee. The thought of her friend, sent a brief pang through her chest. She took a deep breath to clear her mind of silly romantic (or unromantic) thoughts, letting the air out slowly through her mouth. She had a feeling she would need all the focus and clarity she could muster before they got out of this mess.