to the undermountain passageway, I startled when Naraxthel spoke from behind me, requesting to join my meditation.
Snorting, I patted the ground beside me, and he sat.
“I’m not meditating so much as ruminating,” I said.
“You think of your former mate,” he said, intuitive as ever. It always gave me a jolt when Naraxthel whom I nicknamed Red, the first Theraxl I’d ever seen, referred to my abusive ex as a mate, because Red had shown me what it meant to be someone’s true mate, and in Red’s case, a physiological heart mate. Almost from the very beginning, he’d shown me care and consideration while I flexed my freedom from domestic abuse and learned how to fight my own battles—my very own rokhura, even.
Now he referred to the fact we’d just discovered my ex had been closing the gap and had come within literal minutes of trapping me again before I’d slipped into my escape pod and joined others in fleeing the Lucidity.
“I can’t help but think he was waiting for me that day,” I said. “I can imagine what he had planned. Something to humiliate or degrade me, no doubt.”
Naraxthel’s quiet presence and reassuring hand at my lower back calmed my thoughts. I looked at my mate and cocked my head. “I’m not that woman anymore,” I said with some disbelief in my voice. “The idea of confronting him doesn’t frighten me at all. I mean, obviously there’s no danger of that happening now, but Ikthe changed me.”
“Ik,” he said. “Or perhaps she burned away the ineffective parts of you and allowed your true spirit to rise forth from the ashes.”
Chuckling, I leaned into Naraxthel’s side. “You’re really poetic when you want to be.”
“The words from my heart are untouched by Ikthe’s urgency,” he said.
“Makes sense,” I said. The others shuffled and stirred behind us in the camp we’d set up after BoKama left with Raxthezana. We had more provisions than we’d ever traveled with before, having cleaned out Pattee’s MREs, hunted, fished, and foraged. The robot carried a lot for us, as well.
If tales of the Agothe-Fatheza were rife with poisonous vapors and cannibalistic creatures, the hunters’ tales of the quests for woaiquovelt and the Holy Waters were no less frightening.
Intimately acquainted with the agothe-faxl, those giant spider-monsters were the least of my fears, now. The Queen’s quest had a chokehold on all the hunters. On my hunter.
“So, rivers of lava?” I said, burrowing deeper into his side as he held me tight with one arm.
“Many,” he said.
“Mountains beneath mountains?” I asked.
“They take one’s breath once you see them,” he said.
“Cold and darkness that mimics the void of space,” I said, remembering something Raxkarax had said the night before when we sat around the fire.
“Not even our bead lights will work in those vast halls,” Naraxthel confirmed.
I sighed.
“I will not offend you by suggesting you stay behind, though there is a part of me that desires any advantage that could ensure your safety,” he said. “Rather I am pleased to have you ever beside me. Especially as you are acquainted with the mysterious forces that define the rocks and minerals over which we walk.”
“I’ll try my hardest to help, though my experience fording lava rivers is limited at best.”
His deep chuckle reverberated from his chest into mine. “We face the greatest dangers Ikthe has to offer once we cross into the undermountain passageways, and yet my heart is light; giddiness besets me. See what your love bequeaths me?”
Warmth blossomed through my entire body, and I knelt up so I could reach his face and kiss him. Wrapping his arms around me, he laid back and we spent long minutes rehearsing our love before the gaping black maw into which our party would descend.
Later, when everyone’s packs were settled upon their backs and the second sun had risen, we descended into the mountain.
The spirit of adventure warred with the anxiety that had taken up permanent residence in my gut since landing here. With all the danger, the near misses, the constant peril, had we been lucky? Was this last quest going to be the undoing of all we’d overcome so far?
I’d studied the faces of my companions last night, the flickering light weaving shadows among their expressions. Joan, wary around everyone and everything unless she was within feet of Raxkarax and his spider helmet. At the fireside, his features spoke of vigilance, dark circles under his eyes and lips forming a grim line—unless he looked at Joan, and then his entire demeanor softened.
Pattee and Hivelt often mirrored one another, of sober mien unless they were hunting, eating or kissing, then their stoic faces brightened with passion and interest, eyes sparking during the hunt or mouths widening in smiles when breaking bread and sharing. Often the first to help others, they functioned like a well-oiled machine. I was particularly fond of Hivelt’s glisten-fish stew.
Curvy Amity’s smile was easily summoned, although lately she kept her nose buried in an old book, and I caught her staring into space with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth more often than not. Natheka darted about camp and reconnoitered every trek, joy suffusing his face when he ran. Even though the wicked cut on his face had healed, the scar lent him the dangerous look of a pirate; but his ready laugh belied his appearance.
And Naraxthel.
My heart and my love.
The de facto leader of our company, his mouth drew often into a frown when he thought I wasn’t looking. I’d witnessed a subtle change over the weeks as he took responsibility for everyone’s lives upon himself. I feared the most for him. Not that he would be injured or killed, but that he would assume blame should someone else get hurt in an accident, or worse. While the hunters seemed well-adjusted and took events in stride, Naraxthel’s shoulders bowed under the weight of concern.
I would keep an eye on him and maybe try to share the load somehow.
Natheka’s voice from the front of our caravan preceded the growing glow of a bead light, and when I turned to look at Naraxthel behind me, he gave me that wolfish smile that made me tingle inside. Over his shoulder I spied the cave opening bright with day.
Resuming my hike, I hoped we wouldn’t be too long without the suns. I could get as excited about spelunking as the next geologist, but this wasn’t an everyday expedition. Swallowing, I rested my hand on the hilt of my short sword and kept my wits about me. It was hard to believe it, but the Quest had finally begun.