Revised (a bit) 5/8/11
...
"This is the last place I explored before yesterday," Fastion was saying. Mara squinted into the darkness. Dust swirled in the dim light of the Weapon's lantern and she sneezed.
Fastion's low chuckle brought a smile to her face. She'd sneeze a million more times to hear it. The unfamiliar sound was quite preferable to the cold infuriation that emerged when he had woken up and discovered Ben's trick of slipping him a sleeping draught. The sun hung low in the sky before the Weapon opened his eyes. It was all Mara could do to keep him from strangling Ben again. She tried pointing out how much healthier he looked, but he had dismissed her compliment as he quit the provisional Mending Wing.
To Ben and Mara's mutual surprise, he had returned a short time later, apparently deemed unfit for service by his brethren. It was then that Mara suggested her earlier idea. He agreed stiffly, retrieved his uniform, and led her deep into the bowels of castle with hardly a word passed between them. It had taken some doing, but finally she had gotten her first smile out of him. Something about disintegrating tapestries and cobwebs put him at ease.
"Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't clean up these areas and put them to use." He touched the rotted wood of some piece of furniture or another.
"But then what would become of the mystery?" Not that rotting chairs themselves were mysterious, but it was the effect as a whole.
He regarded her thoughtfully. "My feelings exactly."
Mara blushed and she made sure a clump of her wild hair covered the right side of her face. It was fortunate, she thought, that there wasn't much light here, though she couldn't imagine what the long shadows were doing to her features. She tried to keep her left side to the Weapon as much as she could. He'd seen her plainly earlier, of course, but…still.
"What's back here?" she asked as she rounded Fastion in an unnecessary loop and approached a closed door.
"Ah. I had to return to my post before I could explore it." He gripped the handle and sent her that boyish smile she'd come to associate with his rare animation. "I will guess that it is an anteroom, like this one."
She waited for him to open the door, but realized he was watching her expectantly. "Oh!" He wanted her to guess? "Hmm. Ballroom. Obviously."
He rewarded her erroneous guess with another smile and pushed the door open. Together they leaned through the doorframe. The chamber proved to be much as Fastion imagined – similar in size and content to the one they stood in. He looked at her.
She sniffed. "If I had designed this castle, it would have been a ballroom."
He laughed outright and she felt a tingle of delight. Who knew the cold Black Shield had a sense of humor? She watched him as he silently explored the room, making no sound save for the clinking of the lantern. It was incredible, she thought as she followed him, how deliberate each of his movements were. He wasted no energy on unnecessary motions; each footfall seemed to have been planned the moment he walked into the room. Mara knew that despite his absorption in his surroundings, he could respond in an instant – just like a cat. Cool, perpetually composed, and beautiful in his own right, yet harboring fierce instincts. Even his gaze was distinctly feline: unblinking, impassive, relentless. Lethally serene. Treacherously elegant. Mara blinked. She was staring. She was more than staring. Flustered, she turned and absently picked up a bowl from a table.
"Mara, come see this tapestry."
Trying to smother the thrill that sparked in her stomach, she set down her dish and moved to join him. Halfway there, the floor suddenly failed beneath her and she dropped painfully, one leg dangling down in nothingness, her hands scrambling for a hold.
"I think I found the ballroom," she grunted as Fastion darted to her side.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, easing out her leg and lifting her effortlessly to her feet.
Maybe she should pretend her leg was broken. That way, he'd have to carry her back to the Mending Wing. "I'm fine." She winced at a bruised kneecap, but apart from a few scratches, she felt unscathed.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Just a few scrapes."
He looked unconvinced, but fetched his lantern and tested the area around the hole. "It seems stable enough." Mara wondered if any instability could have kept him from crouching and leaning over the hole like he was. Doubtful.
"The castle was built over itself and other ancient ruins," Fastion mused. He pulled his lantern up with a sigh. "I can't see anything. It must be deep."
"You don't sound too crushed."
He looked at her in surprise, then that boy grin spread across his face. "I'll admit this is very – " The floor rumbled and cracked. He leaped to his feet, but the fissure widened and he disappeared into the gaping hope. Mara danced away from the billowing dust, pressing herself against the wall, eyes wide in the bleak darkness that came as the lantern shattered and extinguished.
When the rumbling stopped, she dropped to her hands and knees and felt around until she found the edge of the hole. "Fastion?" she cried, her voice echoing. "Fastion!"
"I'm – here," was his distant reply. She heaved a sigh of relief.
"Are you hurt?"
A few moments passed before he responded, "Not too badly. I will have quite a variety of bruises, however, and my head – well," he laughed breathlessly, "It's protesting its ill use."
The absolute darkness unnerved her and she belatedly remembered her ability. Coaxing a fire over her missing fingers, she created a small ball, then let it drop. It fell a short ways before snuffing out on rock.
"Can you move?"
"Yes." Mara heard shifting rocks and crunching glass. "The pile I'm on might reach the top. Could you light it up again?"
Mara created a bigger flame and tossed it down. Then she waited, keeping a small flame close as she listened to Fastion's efforts.
"Oh yes," he finally said. "We would have to pull ourselves up a bit, but it wouldn't be too difficult to climb back out."
Mara furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't you want to come down?"
"Go down? There?"
"Yes, of course."
"We don't have any lanterns."
"Would it be possible for you to use your ability?"
She touched her forehead. "Not indefinitely."
"There are torches back down the hallway we could use."
He was determined. "All right. I'll be back."
Despite her trepidation toward climbing around brittle old floors, as she fetched the torches, she couldn't help but feel a stirring of excitement. Wandering through old hallways was one thing, but delving into forgotten tunnels? She smiled.
Returning to the room, she passed her load to Fastion, then allowed him to lift her down from the ledge. After lighting the torches, they carefully made their way down the pile of collapsed floor, Fastion keeping one solicitous hand on her elbow.
"This architecture is old, but definitely Sacoridian," he said once they were safely on level ground.
"So just an older section of the castle?" Mara couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.
"I wouldn't say 'just.'" He ran a hand over a wall. "There used to be a door here, but it's been filled in with stone."
"Over here as well."
Mara raised her torch. The collapsed floor filled one half of the chamber, leaving a narrow hallway as the only other way to go. Of course the creepy corridor is the only option, she thought.
"Shall we?" Fastion asked, holding one arm toward the opening. Sending up a prayer that the ceiling didn't collapse on them, she fell into step beside him.
The hallway was a straight shot toward the back of the castle. They speculated on their destination as they walked, then fell into silence as they ran out of guesses. The hall went on and on and on and Mara began feeling trapped in its crushing depth. Fastion must have been equally affected for he stepped closer to her, took her wrist and held it for a short distance, then finally stopped. "Perhaps we should go back," he suggested. "This doesn't seem to lead anywhere."
She could sense his disappointment. "It has too lead somewhere." With a grunt of frustration, she smacked her hand over her ear.
"Something wrong?"
"There's this buzzing my ears that is driving me crazy."
"I've been hearing it as well. It started a little ways back."
Mara frowned. "I just noticed it." She looked at him, suddenly thoughtful. "Your ears are more sensitive than mine. Maybe it's getting louder?"
He blinked, then smiled and nodded. "That may be so." They began walking again, faster this time. To their mutual excitement, the buzzing intensified. Soon, a ring of light appeared ahead. As they grew closer, the ring became a rectangle, framing a heavy stone door. Together, Fastion and Mara pushed against it until it finally gave and grated open.
Light dazzled their eyes as they stepped into the room. They paused, wide gazes startled and fascinated. Every corner glowed with fluid blue, purple, and white lights. "Oh…" Fastion breathed, turning in a circle to take in the water-like colors rippling over the stone walls.
"It's beautiful," Mara whispered. But so strange. The light only appeared on the walls, floor, and ceiling, and the rest of the room was shrouded in darkness, with no indication of the source.
"Mara, here." Fastion stood near the center of the room, the yellow flame of his torch clashing with the ethereal colors beyond him. Mara joined him and stared down at what must be the cause of that infernal buzzing, which now rumbled deep in her chest.
A dusty black contraption, no bigger than Fastion's fist, poised on an equally dusty pedestal. It was pyramidal in shape, but with rounded edges and four little feet on which to stand. Four square pieces of glass, one on each of its faces, were windows into the strange black machinations on its inside. It appeared as though the colors came from there – somehow.
"What is this?" she whispered.
"I don't know," he murmured, lifting one gauntleted hand to touch it. His finger left a trail in the dust, exposing a glossy surface beneath.
"We must tell the k – "
"No," Fastion snapped. She looked at him in surprise. No? Why – oh, right. The king was missing.
"The castellan, then. Someone should know about it."
Fastion touched the device again. "Why should we tell anyone?" he said in a half-whisper.
Mara scoffed. "Do you just want to leave it here, then? Where's the point in that?"
"It would be dangerous in the wrong hands," Fastion told her. His eyes darkened. "In a traitor's hands."
A horrible suspicion crept into Mara's mind. "What traitor, Fastion?"
He didn't reply.
"What traitor?" she said in a firmer voice.
"The one that calls himself our king." He looked into her shocked face, one hand reaching for his sword. "And you, Rider."
Not this again. As the blade hissed out of its sheath, she swung her torch at his face. She caught him in the ear and he jumped back, dropping his own torch and clutching that side of his head, his light eyes glinting in the flickering flames. Mara held her would-be weapon out before her.
"Don't," was all she could think of to say.
"You will not be returning to the surface," he said, circling her like a predator.
"I'll be missed," she answered.
His cat gaze slid over her. "There was a cave-in. How unfortunate you were caught in it."
"I'll burn you again." She raised her hand, flames licking her short fingers.
He reached down to his leg.
Throwing knives, her brain told her. She lobbed the torch at him then turned to find the pedestal in her way. Something clicked in her mind. The device. Ignoring Fastion's strangled cry from behind, she closed her hands over it.
Her brooch seemed to explode on her chest. Cold raced up her arms, but flaming warmth shot down. Her mouth opened in a scream as the two sensations collided under her flesh. Distantly, she heard hoofbeats approaching, louder and louder.
The hoofbeats became footsteps. Someone was running. She cracked open her eyes but could see only black. Two powerful arms held her tightly, cradling her against a broad, warm chest.
"Fastion…?" she breathed.
"Be still," he answered. "We're almost out."
She sighed and dropped her head against his uniform, dimly aware that…hadn't he just tried to kill her? Again?
She was jostled as he struggled up the caved-in floor. "Fastion," she whispered.
"I'm sorry, Mara. I'm sorry." He lifted her carefully onto the ledge and in a moment, picked her up again.
"The device, Fastion."
"I know."
"It was the device."
"Shhh. We're almost there."
Light infiltrated her eyes and she threw her face into his chest. She could hear voices raised in alarm, and gasps. A second set of running footsteps joined them.
"What happened?"
Someone with a deep, rich voice, like thick chocolate. She liked his voice, but not as much as she liked Fastion's voice.
"Gather the others. I have very important information."
Mara felt herself fading into sweet oblivion. She faintly remembered Fastion stopping and sitting, wrapping her gently up in his arms as anxious voices rose around them. Despite their anxiety, he remained peaceful, the leather of his gauntlet pulling her hair as he touched her cheek. "You're safe," he whispered. "You're safe now."
As sleep overcame her, she realized that his hand was on the right side of her face. And she had worked so hard not to let him see it.