ALL NOVEL Chapter 29 – Never-Ending Performance
[Grace]
I slept inordinately well last night.
The morning after, the three of us had dined upon a fabulous breakfast. Seafood, fowl, farmland cuts, varied fruits and vegetables, and the dressings! Adding a glaze of honey here and there, I had even helped myself to a glass of wine.
Patrick had seemed a lot more contemplative than I remembered. Maybe he too had his own life-altering revelation yesternight? Heavens know I certainly needed mine.
The table conversation had been simple: we were still headed to Lovebite, named such for tradition, to retrieve House Fayt's wedding rings lost underneath the bridge. Since we had failed the mission, we'd no need to wait for Emmett; we could, and did, just set off. A fortuitous opportunity: he was still unconscious from... from yesterday.
Samael had expressed a none-too-happy attitude about "working for free" whereas Patrick had seemed on the metaphorical fence.
I was just grateful that we were all still alive to receive this experience.
Sir (Simon) Fayt, not to be confused with Ser (Angel) Fayt, had escorted us past the Front; Lovebite, being in the modest mountains to our north, lay outside the borders of Stormingcalm proper. This too, per tradition: A couple would hold themselves out to the world in their first journey uphill into the dark cavern to proclaim their love in an shower of Æther down the black depths.
Soft soil glazed with emerald grass cushioned our ascending footfalls. I cast my eyes earthward for a breath, watching the imprints form underfoot. Still the same. I was lighter, less burdened, more agile, but my weight had at no point actually changed.
It never ceased to amaze me. To be of high spirits truly left its mark on one.
A Patrick of unusual calmness broached the silence. "Hey, Grace."
I pulled my gaze from the crag-marred cave toward my left, passing over Squad Leader to regard him.
"You seem different."
A smile escaped my lips. Damn! I cursed myself for the reckless show of emotion.
And the spoilt brat had the gall to slide his tongue out to mock me! "Yup, different all right."
I drew a sharp breath down my throat.
"I like it."
Squad Leader's voice cut before any thought I could have made. "If you have time to babble, you have time to plan. Get in, get rings, get out, don't touch anything else. Gardner, any suggestions?"
My eyes snapped back at Leader while my feet kept pace. Did he steal Patrick's usual coldness? I felt a slip into my old ways and in that instant arrested myself, time slowing down.
Temptation crawled up for me to heed my Soul and lash out. It would be following Madam Fayt, rather Grandmother Fayt now, but that would just commit the same error in the opposite direction. A multiplication of negative one, if one would.
The real lesson was in fluidity. I was not beholden to mind nor to soul. I could choose which to follow.
This time I chose mind: there was naught to gain by further dividing the Squad. More importantly: I did not want to throw away my past delusions. After all, even the ocean depths harbor treasures lost to time.
Time resumed as I returned to the world around me. "Simple." I kicked the ground and leapt even ahead of Squad Leader. "If they were visiting Lover's Bridge, you know, the reason why anyone ventures Lovebite in the first place, they probably dropped their rings in the chasm. We drop down, we break the fall with Magick, I flood the place with Æther until it lands on the rings. You two then chart a course for the rings. We retrieve them, then Squad Leader flies us out."
"The fucking shit I'm letting him carry me!" Patrick roared, "I can fly myself out!"
I looked back with my own smirk. "You can, but Air's a lot less violent."
"Acknowledged; thank you, Gardner."
The three of us stood outside the chill damp of the cave maw. Fowl roughness infested my flesh to insulate from the wind.
Squad Leader stepped in, drawing a cloak of wind around himself. "Peterson, stick to the plan. Sinclair's out of the picture, so I want peak performance. If we do well here, we may be able to petition for an actual fourth member instead of deadweight."
My breath hitched, and, to my surprise, so did Patrick's. Didn't he hate him? I let the emotion pass through me and return whence it came. I reminded myself that neither Squadmate saw her true strength. Not that it would matter until she could command that consciously.
A twitch shivered down me. Her? I shook my head. I must be exhausted if I'm mixing up genders.
We three strode in, single file for lateral clearance. Leader took lead, and Patrick the rear. We bothered with no defencive preparations as we were the only ones here. Well, save for retarding the cold. Illness was never a good fortune.
Left, left, hard right, left, right, straight. A delta opened into a pitch drop devoid of all light save a row of torches. Those torches were, of course, fastened by rope onto a haphazard wooden bridge joining cliff-drops on opposing sides. Here stood the test of faith.
Legends hold that a couple's love can overcome all danger. A wooden, rope-slacked bridge under constant threat of fire, whose steps are uneven, the failure to cross which results in a lethal drop?
Never would I wish a Dreamer sent here. We Magi have countermeasures in case our faith deserted us, but them? One missed step, and death awaited.
"Any objections?"
I shook my head. Leader wasn't really asking anyway; his voice inflected far too sharply down.
Patrick, however, chose to answer in a different way. He leapt off the ridge, clear away from the bridge, threw his head down, and hastened his descent with a firebomb above his feet. The explosion pushed out in all directions. The bridge swayed. Leader flew back into me and I took his momentum instead. I quickly found myself with no ground beneath and plummeting uncontrollably.
Screams flew out of me, drowning out whatever Leader was yelling about, probably cursing Patrick for his recklessness. I reached my left; Æther flew out to the wall just out of reach.
I tensed my fingers to freeze the Water Magick solid.
The Æther did not freeze. It solidified, clawed into the rock wall, and continued gouging down, failing to slow me even a sliver.
Trepidation swelled my throat, killing the botched spell.
I had not Attuned.
I tried to cast Water Magick, but failed.
Not only did my last lifeline fail me, I also damaged the cave wall.
I was a dead woman falling and I didn't want to die.
I had always thought little of my own life, especially after my elder sister passed away by Lord Adam's spellwork. I had even resigned myself to fate multiple times. Once, when they tore me asunder. Twice, thrice... foice, before then? I always hated there not being a continuation for fourfold, fivefold, and so on. In any event, I lost count of the number of times something had happened to me that could have resulted in my death. Mother had exiled me and Father had left for some harlot named Jade. Ever since Celeste died, I was alone and homeless, accepting generosity offered me yet never staying for long.
I didn't even care when I had collapsed at Iron By Right Mine. Emmett saved me then, but I didn't care because I. Didn't. Care.
But now I did, and in a twisted irony, it was that I did care that would spell my death, for now I could not manifest my Element.
Amid my screams I heard a name in the distance.
"..GRACE!!" It was Patrick's voice. I felt a surge of Magick kicking away from me and felt a presence rapidly-
His body slammed into mine, the wind left my chest, and his arms coiled around my form.
"Gotcha-"
I filtered him out. I had to make sure no more of the wall was injured. I kicked my feet back toward the wall and willed.
I willed for Æther to flow from my feet and it did. I willed it to shape into a ramp and it did. I willed to glide my feet on the ramp and they did. I willed the ramp to bank into a comforting descent and I permitted the ramp I no longer needed to dissolve.
Now it was Patrick's turn to assume shock and, well, I couldn't lie: I felt a certain measure of satisfaction in turning rescuer to payload.
"Enough joking around, you two," a soul-drained tone droned as we neared our landing atop slick rock, "I don't want to stay here a second longer than necessary."
I felt my feet slip on contact with the glossed stone beneath; this time, however, my Æther did Attune, and my instinct froze me in place.
Patrick fared much better, leaping off of me and gliding along a bit, his balance perfect.
I closed my eyes and breathed Æther into my hands. I didn't have to open my eyes; the azure gathered at my hands outshone whatever anyone else was doing. 'Twas a far more potent draw than I've ever accomplished with this little effort.
I heard Patrick commenting about the power I wielded and Leader scolding about wasting Æther. I sighed and drove my palms against the floor to infuse the earth around, beneath, beside, and above, with my will. As my Magick expanded, so clarified my map of the dark caves, clearly as by open daylight. The hundred or so metre radius of the chasm we shared now, the five-hectometre drop from the bridge, the tunnels spreading like veins every which way, the rings, deep in two very different labyrinthine paths, without a semblance of an open ceiling...
They weren't dropped.
Something, or someone, had placed them there. Someone who was still here; they were to my left and behind, hiding behind a wall.
What I felt next invited a sniffle. There were corpses here. Someone had been using this as an execution ground and had taken the time to move them away where none would notice.
I scoured my reading of the paths to find routes for Leader and Patrick to navigate that would take them away from the assuredly-hostile stranger... Those will do.
"That was comple-"
"Found the rings."
"Gard-"
I cut him off with a point about sixty minutes right of forward. "That way, left, left, up, right, down with a jump, 360, long straight, right, left, move some rubble, there's one ring. I suggest you take that ring because of the drop and you having Air Magick, Leader."
"Don't interrupt me!" Samael barked, "But thank you. And for Patrick?"
I repointed 180 minutes clockwise. "Simpler: that way, straight, hard right, there's some rubble on the left, clear it, go down the spiral, take the second exit, left, right, straight, straight, down a ramp on the right, don't fall down, leap for a hold on the left, ring should be there."
Patrick nodded with a grunt.
Squad Leader marched toward the path I designated for him. "Copy. Gardner, with me."
I shook my head. "Negative: I need to ensure you two don't get lost. I can anchor here." I waited for him to show any sign of speaking in opposition with the Ætheric light we were all channeling to see. "I insist."
"Fine. This isn't a real mission anyway so what do I care." Samael disappeared out of the minimal range of my vision and, presumably, into the corridor I found for him.
"Hellsdamn."
I looked toward my left toward the pale flesh of Patrick bathed in the azure of my Shroud.
"Samael's really sour today. I wonder if his life-altering talk went poorly."
I have a noncommittal hum. "Maybe. It seems said talk is the real benefit of coming here."
"Yeah." Patrick shook his head. "Mine was... complicated."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Nah."
"You gonna go find your ring?"
"Not happening."
I opened my eyes wide. "What?"
"You're hiding something." Patrick took a step toward me. "You've been more expressive and that is really good, but you haven't learned to hide your worries and I've been learning to listen more. You're pushing us away. What are you trying to protect us from?"
My face contorted into a scowl. "How dar-"
"There's a problem, and I'm not leaving you to face it alone, so just tell me."
Patrick was right. Where he'd learned to deduce all that, I had no idea, and a part of me wished him dead for trespassing my privacy, but he was right. he was my Squadmate, and he could arguably become my friend if this side of him kept showing itself.
"There's an Emissary here."
"Ye lovebirds behold," I heard a voice that should have been snuffed out twelve days ago, "An emissary was bold, but 'tis no matter: I repelled him like batter."
