Page 25 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

Sometimes, it's both a blessing and a curse to know how intelligent he is. I nod my answer and he hums in the back of his throat before turning to look at the still open doorway. "Kalixand Theos are both still in bed," he murmurs. "I don't want to get their hopes up if we don't find what we're looking for."

"Wait a second, what do you mean 'we?'" I take a step back, unwilling to let myself be swayed by the feeling of his fingers on my skin.

Ruen's midnight eyes flash back to mine. "You're not going alone," he states. "Certainly not in this place. This isn't Riviere, Kiera. It's far more dangerous." He scans the room as if searching for some unseen force. "It feels as if even the walls have eyes and ears here."

Unfortunately, I know exactly what he means. Despite how alone the Gods have left us since bringing us to this place, there can be no doubt that we're being carefully watched. Tryphone isn't the type to simply let a defeat go and the fact that he was unable to enter my mind must have him on edge. It's more surprising that he's yet to drag me into some dark cell and demand answers. It makes me wonder what's holding him back, or who...

"Get ready," Ruen says, dragging my attention back to him. "If we're going to find your prison, then we should go now. It's dark enough and we don't know how long it'll take for us to return, but we should be back by sunrise."

Knowing that it'll take longer to argue against him going with me, I simply give up the fight entirely. If bringing Ruen along will speed things up then so be it. Ruen remains quiet as I hurriedly delve into my pack for a cloak and then tug on my boots and tighten the laces that keep them up my calves. He's already dressed as if he hadn't ever changed to bed down for the night. When I'm done he offers me a hand, leading me from my room to his, where he dons his own cloak and then the two of us are off.

"I have no lantern," I murmur as we head towards the main hall of the Academy. Ruen slides me a look before a burst offirelight flares to life between us. With a jolt, I nearly stumble back, but he catches my arms before I do.

"We have no need of a lantern," he reminds me, nodding towards the firelight.

With a frown, I examine the flame that simply hovers in the air between us with no gas and no container to hold it in place. “It’s interesting,” I murmur absently as I watch the flame sway back and forth.

“What is?”

I continue to stare at the flame, seeing through the edges to the stone behind it. “If Ortus is made entirely of Brimstone, why doesn’t it stop our abilities entirely?”

Ruen moves and the flame follows. When I glance back at him, he, too, is staring at the fire he’s created with a discerning expression. “You can wield a brimstone blade and it doesn’t dampen your abilities,” he reminds me. “The difference between being surrounded by Brimstone and actually controlled by it—wounded by it—is when it cuts through your skin. The shard in your neck wouldn’t have really hurt you if you’d merely worn it rather than having it embedded into your skin.”

“So, it’s like any other knife? Only dangerous in how it’s used?” I’d always wondered why the shard in my neck had hurt me when brimstone daggers hadn’t.

Ruen nods. “Yes.”

I gesture to the light between us. “And this?” I ask. “If you create illusions, why does this actually help us see in the dark?" I stare at the flickering flame, wanting to reach out and touch the dancing fire, wondering if it'll burn me. Curious, I lift my hand only for Ruen to capture my wrist and shake his head marginally.

"Illusions stem from the power of the mind," he says. "If you believe you can see due to a flame, then you can. You'd besurprised what darkness your mind can overcome if you simply believe in something hard enough."

Blinking at such a comment from someone like him, I don't get a chance to ask another question before he's weaving his fingers back through mine and gesturing to the wide hallway. "Let's hurry," he says. "Lead the way."

Recalling the images of passages and the pathway that Ara had shown me, the two of us quietly follow the invisible map in my head away from the residences of the Mortal Gods and back towards where we came in the first day. Just before we reach the entrance of the great hall though, I veer left and find a small alcove with a hidden corridor beyond. Much smaller than the hallways that lead to our bedchambers, it forces Ruen to release my hand and follow behind me as the two of us enter the darkness.

His illusionary flame floods our surroundings with muted light, just enough to keep us moving. Again and again, I contemplate the memories of my Spider Queen, pausing every so often as I realize the angle of the corridor is wrong and then backtracking to a corner that we should have turned before. Despite the multiple blunders I make that eat up time, Ruen never complains. He remains a constant silent companion at my back. At one time not long ago, having someone trail behind me would have made me nervous—the thought of allowing someone that could harm me to watch my back a foreign one. Now, I feel nothing but ... protected. Safe.

The two of us come to a dead end, and I frown, my hands touching along the stone wall. If I stand in front of it with both of my arms outstretched, I can touch either side of the corridor. There's no window, but the flame above our heads flickers as if sensing a new path of air. I glance up and then back at Ruen, but his face remains encased in shadows, revealing nothing of what he must be thinking.

With a silent curse, I grapple with the stones on the wall, looking for a handle or something that will lead us forward. "It has to be here," I mutter. "She went beyond this wall." Unlike my Spider Queen, however, I am not a small creature able to creep between the stones and into rooms beyond.

"Kiera." Ruen's hand touches my shoulder gently.

I yank myself away and grip another stone, tugging until it's obvious that it won't come loose. "No," I snap. "It's here. There has to be a door here. I know I saw?—"

"Kiera, I know you want him to still be alive," Ruen's voice is annoyingly understanding. "I want him to be as much as you."

My hands rove over the wall, but each stone I grip remains buried in the solid mass of the flat surface. Breathing heavily, feeling as if the walls of the corridor are slowly closing in on me, I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the stone. "I can't do this." The whisper is a croak pulled from the ravages of my throat.

Strong, male arms wrap around my waist and pull me back into a hard muscled chest. Pressing the sides of my cloak into me, Ruen dips his head and presses his forehead to my shoulder. "It's going to be okay," he whispers.

My eyes reopen and stare at the wall in front of me. Caedmon, for all his flaws and frustratingly vague innuendos, was powerful. He was a God that even Tryphone feared. Without him ... we're doomed. I know it. The others know it and, deep down, I think Ruen knows it as well. The book he gave me hasn't brought any answers no matter how many times I've checked it since we arrived, the pages remain frustratingly blank. Perhaps, I think, the power of knowing the future died with Caedmon and the book no longer works if he's not here.

The flame above our heads flickers once more, stronger this time. I glance up at it. "Your illusion seems to think there's a door here," I say absently.

Ruen lifts his head and follows my line of sight. In the muted firelight that reveals only half of his features, I realize he's frowning at the thing as if confused.

"What is it?" I turn in his arms, planting both hands on his chest and pushing him back slightly so that I can see the whole of his face. His eyes are locked on the flame above our heads. The fire dances and sways and then tugs, nearly bending in half as if a breeze is pulling it towards the dead end.

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