Lacuna - N.R. Walker Page 0,97

with another kiss to Tancho’s temple. “Don’t torture yourself with the unknown. Let us get out of this mess first, and when we see Maghdlm again, we’ll make sure she regrets the day she was born.”

Tancho inhaled deeply, feeling marginally better, more reassured and not so frightened. In its place was an anger he’d never felt. Anger at Maghdlm, at the lies and deception. “I’m going to rip out her spine and wear it as a necklace.”

Crow chuckled. “There you are. My fierce little fish.” He sighed and gave Tancho a squeeze. “Come on. We need to get out of here. First, we need to find where here is.”

Crow slowly got to his feet and helped Tancho to his. “I can’t see anything,” Tancho whispered.

“My eyes are adjusting,” Crow said. “We’re in some kind of cave, but we need a torch.”

Holding Tancho’s arm, he led him along for a short while. “How can you see?”

Crow snorted. “Same way you can hear things I cannot.”

“I hear water,” Tancho said. “I think it is below us, though I’m disoriented . . .”

Crow stopped walking. “I can’t hear anything. But water is good, yes? Isn’t that what you said once? It means it has to come in from somewhere.”

“Usually, yes. Unless it seeps up from the earth.”

Crow took Tancho’s hand and lifted it out to their left, putting his palm on something solid and cold. “The cave wall. It will help you get some bearing.”

After they’d walked a while, Crow stopped. “There’s something on the ground, to our right.”

Tancho froze and leaned into Crow. He hated being blind, hated being so defenceless. “What is it?”

“Stay here.” Crow took his sword and left Tancho with his back pressed against the wall.

“Crow, I can’t see you,” Tancho whispered, his voice tight. He couldn’t see a thing, and he’d never been so frightened . . .

“I’m right here,” Crow replied, and the burn of Tancho’s birthmark told him Crow couldn’t go much further. “Look,” Crow said, coming back to him. “I think it’s old driftwood. Like, very old. Petrified, almost.”

Tancho’s heart still hadn’t stopped thundering. “Please don’t leave me like that again.”

“I apologise,” Crow said warmly and leaned in so Tancho could feel his body. “But this is a good find. Can you hold it?”

He put the long piece of driftwood in Tancho’s hands. It was light and smooth, but then the sound of ripping fabric scared Tancho. “What are you doing?”

“Using my sleeve,” Crow replied, and then Tancho could feel him jostling the driftwood as he held it. “Now, let me use a little of this . . .” There was more movement and noise, though Tancho could still not see, but then there was a familiar scent. The metal elements from Crow’s pouch. “The potassium and indium should burn,” Crow mumbled, making a rubbing sound.

Oh, how Tancho wished he could see . . .

Then, so very bright in the darkness, purple sparks ignited. But they faded slowly and far too quickly, then Tancho could see some embers . . . and then more, and more, until suddenly there was light. Bright and burning, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He could have cried with relief.

He could see now that Crow had made a torch from wrapping his shirtsleeve around the end of the driftwood. Crow’s smiling face illuminated beside him and Tancho hugged him tight. “Oh, thank you.”

Crow rubbed his back. “Can you see now?”

Tancho looked around the space they were in and nodded. “There’s nothing to see,” he whispered. “Where in the abyss are we?”

Where they were was in a large circular cave, with no in or out. The floor was a mix of dirt and stone, uneven, with ledges and jagged rock formations. “We walked in a circle.”

“But look,” Crow said, pointing to more driftwood that must have been caught on the jagged rocks at some point. “There once was a way in or out. Water carried this in from somewhere.”

“How many thousands of years ago,” Tancho murmured. “It is sealed in every direction.”

Crow sighed and pulled Tancho into his arms. “We’ll find a way.”

Tancho nodded against Crow’s chest, though he didn’t think it likely. They were in some underground vault, and they would, Tancho realised, probably die here. And it wasn’t even that realisation that haunted him. It was knowing they’d failed. Knowing he’d left their friends to fight and defend their kingdoms alone that sent a shiver through Tancho’s bones.

“You’re cold,” Crow whispered into Tancho’s hair. “Let’s