Not Your Average Love Spell, page 18
Would it be so easy with someone she barely knew? Camille sighed. It wasn’t as if she could do anything else. She sat beside Rowena, but before any more of this bullshit, she said, “I’ve read about seizures of fear, but I’ve never seen one. It looks very painful.”
“I’m not—”
“Here.” Camille shifted until she blocked the light. “It’s the outdoors, isn’t it?”
“You can’t—”
“It’s cockroaches for me. I know it doesn’t make sense. They can’t hurt me; they don’t even have teeth, but I had to clear out a few storerooms when I started working for the library, and sometimes, I felt like I was swimming in them.” Her bile rose at the thought. “Even now, when I see one, I go silly, screaming and flailing. Of course, after today, I probably won’t feel so kindly toward spiders, either, but I’ve never had a seizure of fear.”
Rowena made a dismissive, coughing sound.
“You probably already knew this,” Camille said, “but you just have to wait it out. That’s what I’ve read, anyway. I can’t imagine what it feels like, but everything I’ve read says to breathe through it and wait for the world to stop crumbling. If you want me to stop talking…”
Rowena took a deep breath. Her shivering seemed less, maybe because Camille was blocking some of the light and the heat and the smell of outside. “No.”
Camille chatted about nothing. Rowena seemed to calm, but her chin still wobbled as if tears were close to the surface. When she leaned forward, Camille put her arms out, certain Rowena was going to pass out, but she merely slumped against Camille’s collarbone and took shuddering breaths. Camille held her, thinking of when they’d shared an embrace before. But what kind of abuse was she in for once Rowena recovered?
Well, if she thought she could force Camille to do anything, she could forget it. Fear obviously lived at the heart of Rowena’s pain, and Camille wasn’t going to let that make decisions for both of them.
When Camille smoothed her hair, Rowena sat back and sniffled, wiping her face. Her hair had come undone from its tie, and the barrette she’d worn in front was skewed, revealing the lock of white near her temple. “Why do you cover that up?” Camille asked. “It’s pretty.”
Rowena shrugged, not meeting her eyes.
“You don’t know that it’s pretty, or you don’t know why you cover it up?”
“There was a village.” Rowena took another deep breath, eyes closed. “I used magic to help them recover some livestock after a flood. Most were grateful, but this one family had once played host to a traveling knight, and unbeknownst to me, the kids had actually listened to the knight’s poison. When I was on my way out of town, this boy hit me from behind with some kind of farm implement.”
Camille nearly held her breath, her ire rising, though she waited for more.
“When I woke up, my head was pounding and bleeding. The boy, maybe sixteen, had found a couple friends, and they’d bound me hand and foot and were tying sacks of rocks around me.”
“To drown you?” Camille gritted her teeth. “Little bastards.”
Rowena smiled weakly. “The knight had told them it was a surefire way to kill a witch. I said it was a surefire way to kill anyone. I tried to reason with them; I could see they were afraid. The boy wouldn’t listen. Luckily, they’d left my bag strapped around me, so I had my reagents. I think I was more offended right then that they thought I’d be so easy to kill that they didn’t even have to disarm me. I got my hands into the bag and cast my way out of the ropes. The friends ran, and the boy faced off with me holding the same thing he’d hit me with.” She touched the white lock. “A clump of my hair was still dangling from a jagged metal bit.”
Camille took her hand and squeezed. “What did you do?”
“Walked away,” Rowena said with another shrug. “Though I did so backward. I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t care. I learned never to trust anyone again, even someone I’ve helped.”
Camille nodded, tempted to lecture that not all people were bad, but the pain on Rowena’s face wouldn’t stand for it. “I probably would have done the same.”
That got her another smile.
“Was that when you…” Camille gestured at the mountain.
“Stopped going out except for emergencies? Pretty much.” She fingered that lock again.
Camille squeezed her hand until Rowena looked her in the eye. “We can’t go back in there until the fire’s out and we figure out how to deal with that thing, but you don’t have to worry. If we meet that kid again, or any angry farmers, I’m going to rip their heads off.”
Rowena smiled crookedly. She swallowed, and tears still swam in her eyes. “You’ll stay with me?”
Camille took a deep breath with barely a thought for her plan to walk away. “I will.”
She convinced Rowena to move away from the base of the mountain, though they stuck to shade when they could, and Rowena seemed careful not to look up. She kept saying the sky would swallow her. Camille didn’t bother to contradict her. Rowena no doubt knew that the sky wouldn’t eat her, but knowing and believing were two different things. Logic often lost to fear.
“Did you get a good look at what attacked us?” Camille asked, trying to distract her as they skirted the mountain, making for the village. Rowena agreed that they couldn’t camp at the secret entrance since whatever attacked them might follow. It had gotten in somehow, after all. They didn’t know if it could open doors or not.
“Scales,” Rowena said, her breath coming harder than the exertion called for, but at least she’d stopped trembling. “Teeth, claws, wings.”
“A winged lizard,” Camille mused. “Unless you count dragons, there aren’t any.” She started to laugh, then stopped herself. “You have a yeti, and that’s supposed to be a mythical creature, just as a dragon is.”
“I did not bring a dragon here.”
“How did you bring a yeti?”
Rowena shook her head. “He was here when I arrived. I don’t bother him; he doesn’t bother me, but he’s driven off travelers before. He’s usually just curious, rarely shows himself. I don’t know what got into him earlier.”
Camille shuddered at the memory of the hairy creature blocking her path, the matted fur and hands that seemed all too human. “Maybe he was surprised by a miniature dragon, too.”
“There aren’t any dragons.”
“The one that attacked us would beg to differ.” Camille took a few deep breaths, getting her own anger in check. She was quickly learning that lashing out was how Rowena dealt with difficulty, and Camille was fine with that for now, when Rowena was under more than average stress.
But once they were safe behind closed doors, if Rowena continued to snipe at her, Camille was going to let her have it.
“Based on what I’ve read,” Camille said, “and I’ve read a lot about magical creatures, dragons don’t normally come that small.”
“Even babies?”
“I’ve never read about dragon babies. In the stories, they just sort of…spring into life, maybe created like your…Ember.”
Rowena chuckled. “Homunculus.”
“It’s not the easiest word to say,” Camille grumbled. “Anyway, dragons were always said to be created, not born. In Miss Elspeth Fogerty’s Myths and Tales of Magical Creatures, dragons gathered to perform dark rituals and create new brethren. Of course, also according to her, they sacrificed humans by the boatload and subsisted almost entirely on babies.”
Rowena laughed, and the sound echoed strangely around them. “Good old Miss Fogerty. I’d forgotten about her.”
“You’ve read her?” Camille’s heart did a little leap.
“One of my favorites as a kid with all the blood and guts.”
Camille grinned so widely, her cheeks hurt a little. There was no better bond than over a good book. “And here I thought you only read for research.”
Rowena’s face fell. “Being hunted from your homeland will do that to you.”
Camille fell silent as she recalled the story of Rowena’s attack, the sort of tale that just…lingered, no matter what else happened. And then there was how the knights were after her, how Sydney was after her. Camille hadn’t thought of Sydney in a while. Rowena’s plight didn’t endear Camille to any knights, even though she knew Sydney had been evolving when last they’d spoken. Camille could only hope she was all right so that would continue. Maybe if she wrested control from Sir Robert, they’d no longer hunt witches, and Rowena could live in peace.
Inside a mountain, since she could barely stand being outdoors.
Camille sighed for probably the thousandth time, wondering why she always got involved with such difficult people.
When they reached the beginning of the dangerous trail up the mountain, Rowena paused under some shade. Camille could see the village in the distance, a straight shot down with no twists or trees.
Or shade.
“This is where I meet the villagers when they need me or want to hand over more”—Camille caught her side-eye—“pre-husks.”
“Dead bodies.”
Rowena sniffed, but Camille held up a hand to stop another lecture on usefulness and the differences between living people and dead ones. Rowena gestured to a blackened spot of earth. “They usually light a bonfire, and Ember notices it pretty quickly. Noticed it, anyway.”
“None of that,” Camille said before Rowena’s chin could droop. “She’s alive, and we’ll find her.” Before Rowena could argue that she couldn’t know that, Camille added, “Right. You wait here, and I’ll go get some supplies and…things.”
“Things? There’s confidence I can bloody well count on.”
Camille put her hands on her hips. “Things for camping. If I don’t know what to get, I can always ask. Then you can stay here by the mountain and find us a good spot, and when I get back, we can figure out what to do next.” She rubbed her hands together and tried to look more confident than she felt. “Night will fall soon, and if there’s anything I know about camping, it’s that we’ll need a tent.” She’d only learned that recently but saw no need to mention it.
Rowena seemed skeptical.
“We can always seek shelter in the village,” Camille said. Rowena turned a pale shade of green, and Camille hurried to wave the thought away. “Camping it is. Now, let’s see what we’ve got in the way of payment.”
They pooled their money, and Rowena offered a few things to barter. She stressed that Camille should tell the villagers the items were for Rowena the Hawk, but if they were curious about why she needed a tent and supplies, Camille was to look as mysterious as she could.
Camille nodded. If Rowena’s aura of mystique was that important to her, so be it. And if some villager wanted greater payment than what she had, Camille could offer a spell or two and lead the villager to where Rowena waited.
Camille only hoped they wouldn’t want to trade with dead bodies.
With Rowena’s instructions ringing in her ears, Camille strode toward the village, trying out different personas in her mind. She could be the Hawk’s strong henchwoman, a fearsome presence not to be trifled with. Or a servant eager to badmouth her job with people of a similar economic station. Perhaps she would play at a devoted worshiper of the witch, tranquil and confident that she was fulfilling her life’s purpose.
Or she could simply be herself, a reluctant abductee/houseguest. That didn’t add nearly as much mystique, however, especially since the house in question was currently off-limits due to fire and a miniature dragon. At least the fire would probably burn itself out. The dragon…
No one needed to know about that.
Trading turned out to be easier than she thought. Most of the villagers seemed happy to sell or trade for a minimum after they heard Rowena’s name. They seemed curious but not overly so, and none seemed as frightened as the farm boy in Rowena’s story. Living near a witch had made her almost…everyday. Once the knights had started driving out the witches, slandering them had become a lot easier.
Camille scowled at the thought. Sir Robert and his cronies had a lot to answer for.
With shopping done, Camille headed back up the hill with food, water, blankets, a tent, and other camping utensils. At the last moment, she traded her pot of face cream for an impulse buy, but she knew it would be worth it. The villager she’d traded with seemed excited by a sweet-smelling lotion just for the face; he declared it the fanciest thing he’d ever seen. Camille chuckled at the thought that he’d no doubt get more joy out of it than she ever would.
Rowena waited right where Camille had left her. Her entire body seemed to relax when their eyes met, and Camille wondered if she’d been close to another seizure. When Camille pulled out her impulse buy, a cloak with a full hood to block out the hungry sky, Rowena laughed and threw her arms around Camille’s shoulders.
Well worth it, indeed.
Chapter Thirteen
By the time Rowena and Camille found a campsite and got it ready, the day was nearly done. Rowena breathed a sigh of relief and wished the sun would hurry off. At night, she could pretend the world wasn’t so large and could imagine walls just inside the darkness. She rubbed her chest, missing her connection with Ember. She’d never realized that sharing her emotions with another made them so much easier to bear.
Camille hadn’t mentioned Rowena’s fear again, and she was grateful but also strangely…irked. Part of her knew that was her fear taking over, just a different kind of fear, one that worried about having her trust taken advantage of or her weakness used against her or her troubles belittled.
But Camille wasn’t like that. Rowena knew that, but she couldn’t get her heart to believe it. After all, Ember had left her, and they were as close as two people could be.
No, Ember had been pulled away, had sacrificed herself in Rowena’s place. That was different.
But she would have left eventually, no matter what. She wanted to travel, make friends, have adventures; she wanted all the things Rowena couldn’t give her. Camille might stay with her until the current crisis was over, then she’d leave, too.
“We have an apple and a plum to go with dinner,” Camille said, rummaging through their packs. “Which would you like?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“You must have a preference.” Her tone was light, even after all that had happened.
Rowena pulled her new cloak tighter. “Nope.”
“Well, one is tart, and—”
“I said I don’t care. How can you be going on about bloody plums and apples at a time like this?”
Camille set the fruit down and turned. Her dark eyes blazed, and her full lips became one thin line. Rowena waited. This was it; she would leave now like she’d done before, and Rowena would be proven right again. Better sooner than later.
“I know you’re scared,” Camille said, her voice low and dangerous, the rumble of a volcano before an eruption. “But don’t take it out on me.”
Rowena sneered, ready to tell her that she didn’t know what she was talking about, ready to push her away.
And be alone as she was meant to be.
Camille put a hand up. “You’re gonna get pissy with me again; I can see it in your eyes. Well, guess what?” She moved closer, and Rowena resisted the urge to lean back. “I’m not leaving.”
Was she a bloody mind reader? “That’s…I’m not…”
“I will try to be patient with you,” Camille said. “But if you keep coming for me, I’m going to start hitting back like I should have done the first time you acted like an ass.” She crept a little closer, and Rowena resisted the urge to scoot back. “I’m a smart woman, and I’ve been watching you, and if I wanted, I could take you apart with just a few words.”
Rowena swallowed. Camille’s voice was angry but also almost…seductive? The tone, combined with how she crept closer, never breaking eye contact, put Rowena in mind of some sleek, predatory animal. Even with all the anger and fear coursing through her, she found Camille alluring.
After a deep breath, Rowena said, “I’m sorry.”
Camille relaxed back, smiling, and Rowena almost wished she’d pushed her, wanting to see if Camille would leap on her and attack.
“I just…” Rowena cursed the fact that she didn’t know how to finish. It seemed Camille already understood, but she had to say something to fill the silence, and Camille was waiting. “I don’t want you to leave, but…I feel…” She closed her eyes. It sounded so foolish out loud, but inside, she was still so certain. Sooner or later, everyone would leave.
The warm touch of Camille’s hand in her hair made her open her eyes. Camille smoothed near the lock of white at her temple. “This should never have happened,” she said softly, her face so close that her features blurred. “Even if it left behind something so beautiful.” Her touch trailed down Rowena’s cheek to her chin, leaving tingles in its wake. “Your future doesn’t have to reflect your past, not if you don’t want it to.”
Rowena wanted to argue that she knew that, but she couldn’t believe it. Hearing Camille say it created a spark within her. Maybe. Maybe.
She leaned in, and Camille didn’t pull away, her eyes slipping closed.
A screech sounded from the right, and Rowena leaped to her feet. A shadow came hurtling out of the dusk, wings extended, claws reaching for her face. She threw herself on the ground, tugging Camille with her.
“It’s back,” Camille shouted, and it did seem like the same creature from before as it landed on a nearby stone, then spun to face them, jaws wide in its reptilian face.
Rowena grinned. They weren’t shut up in some cavern with no air now. She dipped into her bag and found the brimstone again, igniting it with a thought and a blaze of emotion.
Another shrieking, inhuman cry came from up the slope on the mountain. Camille grabbed Rowena’s hand as the winged lizard flew at them again. Rowena followed where Camille tugged her, but she didn’t take her eyes off her target, cocking her arm to throw. When the lizard missed them, she threw the brimstone and wrapped it with her emotion and life force, sending the burning glob into the lizard’s side.
