She tried to tell herself that her anger didn’t come from hatred and prejudice, but it did in a way. She’d been frightened and angry at the Kells before she’d even met one. Now she hated the lot.

  And they deserved it, a voice inside her whispered. She wanted to contradict it, to argue that not all Kells could be murderous thugs, but she had no evidence of that. They believed everyone else in the world was fake, so it was okay to kill them. But how had they even come to such a horrid conclusion? Whenever she’d become aware in a dream, she hadn’t taken up her sword and killed everyone she saw. Didn’t that make the Kells evil?

  “Did you believe anything he said?” Ember asked. She wasn’t breathing nearly as hard, and she was wearing Sydney’s discarded pack, another point in the shame column. Sydney hadn’t given their supplies any thought when she’d left.

  “The nonsense about dreams or the even more nonsensical stuff about a dragon?”

  Ember’s mouth twisted to the side. “We have seen dragon people.”

  Sydney gaped. “You think it might be true?” When Ember shrugged, Sydney bit her temper back. “There are no more dragons and even if there were…” She shook her head. “Dragons were huge. How could they breed with…” She would not let herself contemplate such things. “And don’t reptiles lay eggs?”

  “I never read about dragon breeding.” Her head cocked, and she played with her earrings. “But if there was a very tall ladder—”

  “Stop right there.” Sydney shook her head before any images could take root. Even if she wanted to banish her shame, she wouldn’t banish it that way.

  “Rowena bred spiders in the mountain. And some spell she cast made them very large.”

  Sydney sneered but turned away so Ember wouldn’t see. Ember had been a fine, loyal, sympathetic companion, and Sydney didn’t want to openly disparage her…friend…in front of her, but everything kept coming back to magic and the chaos it could bring.

  “So, you think some witch might have used magic to…combine a dragon and a person?” Sydney asked, turning back around. She fought a surge of bile. The whole train of thought was so distasteful.

  Ember shrugged.

  Sydney sighed and rubbed her temples, trying to stave off the headache that had been threatening her for the past hour. “It simply can’t be. We can’t be facing the Kells, a sinister Sir Robert, an unknown witch, and a fucking dragon.” She pulled at her skin so hard, her vision went blurry. After a few deep breaths, she turned to Ember. “I apologize for swearing so heinously.”

  Ember brightened. “Is one swear more heinous than the other? Rowena uses bloody and buggery nearly constantly. Are there people who find them offensive? Why? How do you know which to use in what situations and with whom?”

  Sydney smiled as the chatter washed over her. The world might be full of horror, but it also had curious, steadfast women who made an imprint on the heart, no matter how much of them was human. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

  Ember stopped her theorizing and stared. Her smile began tentatively and grew. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt, too. And I’m sorry you were so sad.”

  “Me, too.” Sydney took a step, drawn to her in a way she’d never been before. She caught Ember’s hand. “You could have left me when we met, could have gone your own way, had your own adventure. You didn’t have to help me try to find…” It seemed wrong to say Camille’s name while holding the hand of another woman, but Sydney felt very far from Camille, and they’d never belonged to each other, not like she felt she belonged with Ember.

  Still, Ember winced as if sensing that missing name. She began to pull away, but Sydney didn’t let go. “Thank you.” She pulled Ember closer, taking her other hand, and who or what she was didn’t matter. “Thank you.”

  “It seems impossible that someone wouldn’t go with you,” Ember said softly. Her gaze trailed from Sydney’s eyes to her lips, and though there was heat, there was also softness. She didn’t seem to want to devour Sydney in a wave of desire and then discard her. “Everything about you is fascinating.”

  Sydney grinned. “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  Ember closed the distance in a single step, pressing their lips together softly, asking a question with her body. Sydney leaned into the kiss, deepening it, letting the feel of Ember’s lips, the warmth of her, wash away the horrors of the day. That kiss said more than, “I am here.” It said, “I’ll be here, no matter what.”

  Foolish thoughts, perhaps, for someone she’d only known for two days, but they still rang true, and in a time of many lies and faults, that felt like enough. It felt wholly human.

  When they parted, their hands still joined, Ember licked her lips, her eyes closed. Sydney put another kiss on her cheek, her chin, her forehead.

  Ember sighed. “You kiss like…it means something.” Her eyes opened. “Is that a weird thing to say?”

  “Weird or not, I love it.” Sydney stepped back. Fantastic as the kiss felt and as much as she wanted more, they were still stranded in the middle of nowhere, besieged by enemies, and covered in soot and sweat and blood. She had to believe there would be time for more in a far better place.

  * * *

  A kiss! Ember could hardly believe it had happened. For a moment, even though Sydney had been looking deep into her eyes and holding her hands, Ember thought it might not happen, so she’d bridged that gap herself.

  And Sydney had kissed her back. Not even thoughts of Camille could stop her.

  After they’d parted, Ember offered to go hunting since Sydney hadn’t seemed intent on kissing anymore, at least for the moment. The look on her face said she was still interested, but maybe she was turned off by the grime and everything that had happened that day. It would be nice to have a bath.

  Maybe with Sydney.

  Once all the trouble was over.

  And Camille was miles away.

  Ember didn’t know why thoughts of Camille still bothered her, even after Sydney had kissed her. She couldn’t help wondering what would happen when they were all together, if Sydney would suddenly change interests again, or perhaps she would want them all to be lovers. But Ember had been thinking about the idea of only having one lover, even one love.

  Strange that someone she’d only known for a short time could have her contemplating forever.

  She shook the thought away and focused on the task at hand. She’d been sitting behind a clump of scraggly bushes, waiting, letting her heart settle and her breath deepen. Rowena had always said that no one could go still like her, that she seemed to fade into the scenery. Ember wished she could see it from the outside.

  Soon, her patience was rewarded. A rabbit wandered from a tuft of grass that probably disguised its home. Ember waited, watching until it came close enough, then she leaped, her bent legs working like a spring to bring her up and over before the animal could run. Rowena always said no one was as fast as her, either.

  Ember grabbed the rabbit and broke its neck. It was lean, nearly scrawny. She laid it aside and sat to wait again. At least they’d eat tonight. And if Sydney was successful at finding a stream, maybe they could bathe.

  Maybe they wouldn’t have to wait until all the trouble was over. Either way, Ember smiled.

  Chapter Twelve

  Safely inside the tunnel, Rowena’s confidence came flooding back. How much of her fear had Camille seen? No doubt she’d missed it in her own panic. But why had Camille acted as if she was going to kiss her and then didn’t? Maybe Camille expressed her anger by flirting. When she wasn’t shouting and raging around other people’s homes.

  A jot of shame rushed through Rowena. She shouldn’t have told Camille to walk home, but she’d been frustrated and angry. She’d never asked for houseguests, especially one so distracting. Even now, she could hear Camille breathing, could practically feel the swish of her skirt. Rowena was trying hard not to smell her, but the scent of apricots had become lodged in her nostrils. She tried to tell herself she found it appealing just because it was better than the dry cavern scents surrounding them, but that wasn’t true.

  She could get used to having that scent around all the time.

  Well, she’d have to deal with it a little longer. Rowena fought to remember the route back into her home. They could rest, then she’d give Camille a task, and maybe she would stay, maybe not. They never had to speak of their argument.

  The tunnel widened ahead, and Rowena slowed. The light from her fungus stretched inside to reveal a slight dip in the floor and a selection of tunnels curving on all sides, some made by husks, others made by the weather long in the past.

  “What’s wrong?” Camille said, her breath tickling the back of Rowena’s neck.

  She shivered. “I know I set a trap in this room, but I can’t remember what it is.” She gnawed on her lip. “I don’t think there are spiders, but they tend to get everywhere.”

  Camille made a little mewling sound and coughed. “You…put spiders here?”

  “They’re supposed to stay in the tunnels.”

  “Oh, right. Because spiders are famous for doing as they’re told.”

  Rowena shushed her but didn’t turn, knowing her own raw feelings would respond to anger with anger. “I said, they’re not here.”

  “Like they weren’t supposed to be up there?” Camille mumbled.

  “All right. I should have checked more often.” She kneeled by the entrance to the large room. With the light closer, she finally saw a tripwire. “Watch your step,” she said showing it to Camille.

  Camille followed nearly on top of her as Rowena stepped over. “What does it do?”

  “Cave-in, probably.”

  “You don’t know?”

  Rowena took a deep breath before she turned. “This was all done a long time ago. And I didn’t make a list because I didn’t ever want to come here, and it seems I didn’t need these traps anyway. I feel foolish already, so do you mind if we just get on with it?”

  Camille’s scowl eased. “Why the traps? The mountain seems enough of a deterrent—”

  “Let’s get out of here, and I’ll tell you all about it.” Not bloody likely, but it shut her up long enough for them to cross the room and go out the other side once Rowena found the right tunnel. Maybe the silence would hold until they got back to safety, or at least until they found the next trap.

  At the next junction, Rowena spotted traces of old webbing dangling from the ceiling next to a shaft that tunneled up through the rock. She didn’t point it out to Camille. It wasn’t fresh, and that left her wondering where all the other spiders had gotten to. Maybe they were all running amok on the surface. Maybe that was why the yeti had been so upset. She hoped they hadn’t found their way down to the village. She didn’t think that specially augmented spiders were a magical act the villagers would appreciate.

  It wasn’t long before they reached what looked like a dead end but was another secret door. When they were on the other side, Rowena breathed deep. “These are the safe tunnels. Don’t worry. I know them like the back of my hand.”

  “So, no spiders then.”

  Rowena was about to say, of course not, but if they could get out of the secret tunnels, they could get anywhere. “Nope.”

  “That sounded very convincing.”

  Rowena quickened her pace. She was only a few twists, turns, and short staircases from home, and she could hardly wait to be behind closed doors. She’d wash away the fatigue that came from venturing outside. Maybe Camille would be calmer after a bath, too. The thought conjured images best not pondered, but her mind wouldn’t banish them easily.

  “What in the seven bells?” Camille whispered.

  Her grip on Rowena’s arm nearly made her jump, and when she looked ahead, she spotted a slew of crumpled bodies on the edge of the light.

  Rowena slowed, but she could see they were husks. The tangle of limbs and torsos had been shredded, with dirt and clay spilling out of dead organs in piles of dust. She lifted the light, and spied the landing between this part of the tunnel and the first staircase going up.

  “What happened to them?” Camille asked, ever one to ponder out loud.

  Rowena could only shake her head and come closer, searching the shadows for enemies, but the space wasn’t that large.

  “These cuts are jagged,” Camille said as she kneeled beside the husks. She reached forward as if she might touch but drew back.

  Rowena’s anger sparked and grew. These husks were the last batch she’d sent after Ember, and something had been waiting to trash them. The long, harsh wounds dotting their bodies weren’t the work of spiders, she hadn’t created any creatures with claws, and the yeti was outside.

  Swords lay beside the bodies, and Rowena pulled one forth to find it stained dark red. One of the husks had gotten a hit in, at least. A minor comfort. She stood and hurried toward the staircase, desperate to strike at whoever was invading her home.

  “Wait,” Camille called. “Don’t go charging in without a plan.”

  “I have a plan,” Rowena said. “Kill whatever did this.” She pulled out a piece of brimstone and wrapped her anger around it. Time for a little destructive magic of her own. The knights might use heartfire to ignite their own hands or what they touched, but if the bastards had bothered to dig a little deeper, they would have learned that they didn’t need to get that close.

  Thinking of the knights made her even angrier. If this was their work, she would end them. No negotiation; she wouldn’t acknowledge their high-handed threats. It would just be fire fighting fire.

  They wouldn’t stand a—

  Something came barreling out of the darkness of the staircase and crashed into her, sending her back into Camille, who screamed as she lost her footing. They both tumbled down the stairs, the light flickering. Rowena landed hard on her back, her head bouncing off Camille’s knee. She cried out as her brimstone flew from her outstretched arm.

  Something leaped over her in a rush of air.

  Rowena rolled over, easing her tight grip on the fungus so she could see. The shadow that had hit her moved on the other side of the pile of husks. It seemed hardly bigger than a cat, but the shadows distorted it. Rowena reached for Camille and hauled her upright. Camille gasped, and Rowena knew she’d seen the shadow. A low hiss emanated from that corner, and a rasping sound echoed around them. Claws on stone.

  “Camille, stay back.” Rowena dove for her brimstone. She scooped up the stone in one hand, but the shadow leaped into the light.

  Golden scales glinted, and claws as long as Rowena’s fingers stretched toward her face. The open snout seemed made of teeth, and wings flared around the shoulders. Rowena threw the bit of brimstone, adding her life force to the emotions that had sparked it. It blazed with flame, but the winged horror wrenched upward with a powerful pull of its wings, and the brimstone flew under it into the pile of husks.

  The dry, desiccated husks.

  “Shit,” Rowena cried as the pile became a bonfire, the heat strong enough to drive her back. She heard a screech and turned, thinking of the winged horror flying at her, but it was Camille running toward her and swinging her pack.

  The scaled beast entered the light once more, but Camille’s wild swing drove it away. It landed between them and the stairs. The air became a smoky blanket, turning Rowena’s lungs to heated grit. She coughed and heard Camille doing the same. Her heart began a panicky beat. They needed to get out of here.

  Rowena clutched Camille’s arm as they stumbled from the room and back the way they’d come. The smoke chased them, filling in all the air. Rowena ducked low and brought Camille with her, leading the way to the exit and the cursed outdoors.

  * * *

  Camille took a few gulps of fresh air and tried to process what she’d seen. Something had attacked them, something Rowena had seemed surprised by. But she’d been surprised her spiders had run amok, too. Maybe this was just another little trap she’d forgotten about.

  Anger burned in Camille again, taking her back to how she’d felt when they’d first gotten to safety after the yeti. She wanted Rowena to beg her to stay. Maybe she’d walk away now. Maybe she’d keep walking into the sunshine streaming along the ground below the mountain in front of her and—

  Rowena wasn’t beside her. She turned. The long, downward sloping tunnel had led into a small, scree-filled valley, but Rowena lingered out of the sunshine, standing under a ledge that guarded the secret door to the tunnels. Camille shielded her eyes and stepped back into the shade. Rowena’s eyes were closed, and she shivered as if injured.

  Camille swore to herself, and her anger vanished. “Are you all right?”

  Rowena’s chin wobbled as if she was either going to cry or be sick. Camille reached out, but Rowena seemed to sense the movement and drew back, holding herself as the shivering increased. She sank to the ground. When Camille kneeled beside her, the slight sound startled her. She opened her eyes, but the sight of the sun-filled valley seemed to pain her. With a whimper, she closed her eyes tight again and bared her teeth.

  “Leave me alone,” she spat, her voice strangled.

  Impossible to do, given their circumstances. “Rowena.”

  “Go away. You were going to leave, so leave. What’s stopping you?”

  If she hadn’t looked so pitiful, her words might have garnered the response she clearly wanted, but Camille recognized someone lashing out in fear when she saw it. Maybe that was what their original fight had been about, needing help, looking weak. When Camille’s friend Hetty had broken her ankle a few years back, she’d been a bear to those trying to help her, insisting she could do everything herself. After she’d finally allowed Camille to help, she’d apologized. Camille had assured her that, luckily, her friendship was worth trudging through her bullshit.