Ember (27 page)

The way was dark. I inched my feet carefully.
When the tunnel suddenly flashed blue I was instantly consoled.
Ikovos waved his hand with the glowing smoke behind him so I could
see. “Works well when you don't have a torch handy.”

I smiled as we continued around. The dark
walls were much more tolerable now that they were reflecting the
shimmery blue. In seconds I noticed another color joining it, warm,
but not like the red from the portal. Around the next corner the
tunnel opened up into a large cove. I didn't get much of a look
around before I realized we weren't alone.

“Hello, Master Boron,” said Ikovos.

The man, who had been laying back, legs
crossed, a hat covering his face, stirred slightly.

Ikovos dropped his pack in the corner. “I
thought it was off that no one greeted us at the portal.”

The man grumbled now. “You try getting stuck
with an eighteen-hour shift, in a dim cave, without any shut-eye.”
He stood up as he said it, removing the hat and ending with a gaze
at Ikovos, who was just staring back smugly. “Okay,” allowed the
burly man, “try adding thirty years to that, then how would you
fair?”

Ikovos frowned. “Good point. . . . Anyways,
you'll be happy to know I'm here to relieve you. Well, me and . .
.” Ikovos nodded over to me.

Though it was the first time that the older
man looked my way, he didn't seem at all surprised by my
presence.

“Evelyn, this is Master Boron. Master Boron,
Evelyn.”

“Hello,” I said, waving.

He didn't smile, but his face was assuring.
“Very nice to meet you.”

I smiled, thankful when Ikovos saved me
further attention.

“Anything interesting happen today?” he asked
dutifully.

Boron reached for a sword leaning against the
wall and slid it into his hilt. “A group of keepers moved through
the west passage a few hours ago, but they seemed harmless enough.
My bet is that you'll have a fairly uneventful night.”

Ikovos smiled. “My favorite.”

Boron gestured to me. “At least you'll have
someone to keep you company.”

There was an awkward moment after he said
this where everyone's eyes sort of locked. Me and Ikovos. Ikovos
and Boron. Boron and me. When I glanced down during the latter
gaze, the older man cleared his throat. “Well, I don't mean to rush
out of here, but I'd like to make it back in time for dinner.”

Ikovos nodded and Boron walked past me
towards the tunnel. He stopped short to give me a wave. “Again, it
was nice to meet you Evelyn . . . if he gives you any trouble
tonight, just let me know and I'll whip him for you.”

I was glad he disappeared into the tunnel as
soon as he said it, because the look on my face was somewhere
between disbelief and horror. I wasn't pulled out of my shock until
I heard Ikovos yelling.

“I'm going to kill you for that, Boron.” He
was leaning near the opening in the wall.

I didn't hear a response, but eventually
Ikovos turned around. “Sorry,” he said, “he's known me since I was
young and . . . we started playing pranks a while back.”

I smiled, too far past embarrassed to do
anything else. “Well, as pranks go, that's not actually that
evil.”

He laughed then, shaking his head. I was
actually more excited that he was finally embarrassed than I was
worried about myself. For all the uncomfortable situations we'd
been in I'd had yet to see him lose his cool.

I smiled again, then looked around. The area
was large, but cozy . . . warming rather. Two small fires lit the
room. One in the far wall and another right in the middle of the
floor. Around this sat a mix of sprawled out blankets, books, the
ever-present weapons, and shelves, lined closer to the walls.

As Ikovos dug something out of his bag, I
walked over to the opening he had yelled into. As I guessed it gave
a perfect view of the red portal and surrounding cave below. I
didn't look long, preferring the room I was in considerably.

Ikovos appeared busy, but I decided to bug
him anyways, “So, how long will we stay here?”

He moved a box. “Through the night . . .
someone usually comes by dawn.”

“What is it you actually do?” I asked.

“Just guard the portal really. Make sure none
of the Meoden get through.” He didn't expound further, so I just
nodded then dropped my pack and went to sit by the fire.

With a quiet sigh I leaned my chin onto my
hand and watched the industrious boy carefully. Sometimes, based on
his attitude, I would start to think of Ikovos as a fairly carefree
person. I mean, he smiled a lot, he was always kidding around with
me or the masters, in fact I had yet to see him get angry or even
openly irritated with anybody. . . . I scrunched my nose. Then
there were times like this that totally voided the whole carefree
idea. Whenever things were important, usually something involving
the order, he was always straight to business: no joking, not much
talking, fairly solemn.

He isn’t aware of much else in these times
either, which was strange because he's normally the opposite. For
instance with me usually he's always checking my expressions or
asking questions. When he's working he seems completely unaware I
even exis—

“Something wrong?” asked Ikovos, rocking me
out of my thoughts. He had stopped his work and was now looking at
me curiously. “Your face is sort of . . . scrunching.”

Okay, so, maybe I was wrong about the last
part.
My eyes widened slightly. “Ah, no. I'm good. Just
thinking.”

“What about?” he questioned.

Technically I was thinking about him, but
that wasn't something I was about to share. I waved a hand.
“Nothing important. I don't want to interrupt your work.”

He dropped a book onto a shelf and walked
over to sit on the log across from me. “Actually I was just
finished.”

I smiled and leaned up a little, but his open
look still begged a question. “I don't even remember,” I lied.

He scoffed. “Come on, just tell me.”

I shrugged. “Don't remember.”

I tried to concentrate on the fire between
us, but it didn't last. After a moment a grin spread across his
face.

“It must have been good if you won't say
it.”

I eyed him ruefully, but I was unable to keep
my face from blushing. “Man, you're just on a roll today.”

He grinned wider, then dropped onto the floor
using his seat to lean against. “Well we have to do something to
keep ourselves entertained.”

I smiled, then leaned into my hand. “What do
you normally do here when you're alone?”

He poked a small twig at the fire. “Eat,
read, at some point I'll have to check the tunnels. Speaking of,”
he added, hopping suddenly to his feet, “I'm hungry, and you still
need a tour of our little watch-post.”

I laughed at his abrupt exuberance. “Okay,
then.”

*

The next thirty minutes was a boisterous mix
of him pointing out sections of the large cave, whilst attempting
to cook food over the fire. He was in a very chipper mood all of
the sudden. I guess he was trying to make me feel comfortable given
the situation.

It worked. By the time we were leaning
against the wall with our plates of food, I felt completely
relaxed.

“So,” he said, breaking the laughter over his
last comment, “how have you been here, really?”

I cleared my throat. “I don't know . . . it's
only been an hour or two.”

He set his plate down and I warily checked
his face. The dim light wasn't much to go off of, but I could
easily see the skeptical gaze. Obviously my feigned
misunderstanding hadn't worked.

On my tour Ikovos had informed me that the
two fires were actually real, completely normal. They flickered
substantially, filling the cave with shadows and twinkling
reflections. A smirk crossed my face and I looked back at him.
“It'd be way too cheesy to have a serious conversation in
here.”

He narrowed his eyes, then looked around.
After a second a grin appeared. “Okay, you are absolutely
right.”

I smiled victoriously and took a bite of
food.

“But be prepared when we get to a less
romantic location.”

My chewing halted and my heart skipped a few
beats. Then I got a hold of myself.

He meant it in the other way, Evelyn. Stop
being a weirdo.

Before my face had a chance to turn red,
Ikovos tapped my knee. “Hey, I got an idea. Do you want to look up
your name?”

I tried to swallow my most recent bite. “My
name?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Avest, right? I have a few
books here. . . .”

Before I could respond he jumped up, dug into
a pile in the corner, and came back with a small stack of
tomes.

Once he was situated beside me I set my plate
down on my right and looked back over, this I wasn't prepared
for.

Resting on the bridge of his nose were the
glasses from earlier. I bit my lip hard to hold back a threatening
smile as he opened the book. When he glanced at me once, he did a
double-take.

“What?” he asked.

I shook my head and narrowed my eyes, trying
to concentrate on the book.

He looked back down, flipping through a few
more pages. “It's L, Y, N, right?”

I lost it then, bursting into the laughter. I
tried to cover my mouth as he looked at my face, but it wasn't
helping much. “I'm sorry,” I burst out again, “it's just . . . I
didn't expect you to—” more laughing. He cocked his head slightly
and I pointed. “It's the glasses, they‘re—” I lost it completely as
he eyed me, obviously still confused, and pulled the spectacles off
to examine them. I covered my mouth again, finally managing to keep
my giggling to a minimum.

A slight grin crossed his face. “What's wrong
with my glasses?”

I shook my head quickly. “Nothing.”

He eyed me dubiously. “It has to be
something.”

I chewed my lip uncomfortably. “It's just . .
. when you picture someone with glasses, you are not the type of
person that comes to mind.”

He considered this, then his grin widened.
“You're prejudiced against glasses?” It was more of an accusation
than a question.

I shook my head again. “No!”

He nodded. “You just have preconceived ideas
about people who wear them. . . .”

“I . . . oh. . . .”
Maybe I do have a
problem.

As I settled into the possibility he laughed,
slipping the glasses back on and pointing to the page. “Okay,
Evelyn. We've got . . . bird-like.”

I tried to catch up to his words.
“
Bird-like?
”

He nodded.

“As in, like a bird?”

He nodded again.

I considered this then shook my head. “I
don't see it.”

He swiveled his eyes at me, then threw out a
hand. “Yeah right. What are birds?”

I pursed my lips. “Like their qualities?”

He nodded once.

“Umm . . . they sing a lot.”

He lifted one finger. “Okay, you totally do
that
.”

I scoffed. “What? No I don't.”

He grinned. “Oh, yes, you do.”

“Like when?”

He eyed me slightly. “All the time.”

I chuckled, hoping it was a joke, but his
face remained serious.

“Name once.”

He waved a hand. “Easy. At the cabin.”

“The one near Tiver?”

“Uh-huh.”

“When?”

“When you were taking a shower.”

My eyes widened. “You could hear that? I was
singing?!”

He nodded slowly, an entertained smirk
growing across his face.

I shook my head. “Oh, no, did Jaden—”

He nodded again.

My head fell.

“If it helps, I’m pretty sure you only do it
when you think you're alone.”

I looked back up. “That's great.”

He shrugged.

“Let's just move on so I can disprove this
bird theory.”

He smiled again. It was so hard to stay
irritated with him doing that.

“Alright. Name another.”

I thought more carefully about this one.
“Birds are . . . delicate.”

He laughed heartily then lifted another
finger. “Okay,
check.
”

I narrowed my eyes, but was a little afraid
of arguing that one.
Ah-ha!
“They're skittery.”

Another finger shot up.

Oh, great job Evelyn, take an idea from
yourself.

“Free?” I checked, sure that this was too off
to argue. But another finger went up.

“Free-
spirited
,” he clarified.

I sighed heartily and dropped my head
again.

“Let me take it from here,” said Ikovos,
before putting up his fifth finger. “They're sweet, for one . . .
and gentle.” His fingers cleared back to one, which I guessed
signified the six. “Curious. You can't argue with that, you said it
yourself.”

I looked up carefully and he glanced
away.

“They're very regal, or . . . untouchable.
Like they're above you, too good for you . . . like they could
leave you at any minute. . . .”

My heart was beating way off kilter at this
point. These were all true things about a bird, but me?

His concentrated gaze cleared, and with a
much lighter expression he fixed his eyes on me again. “And they're
odd, you know, a little eccentric. You'll like that one.” He
cleared his throat and I forced a laugh, sniffling.

“Yes, I suppose they can be a little
strange.”

Our eyes met, then silence fell.

He broke it with a heavy breath. “Okay,
so,
that makes ten. And, I'm sorry, but ten definitely
cements you as a bird-like person.”

I squinched my eyes, then waved a hand.
“Fine. I'm a bird.”

In truth he still hadn't convinced me of this
fact, but I wasn't about to argue it . . . not after what he'd just
said, not when my head was still buzzing, and my thoughts were so
jumbled, and
definitely
not after the look his face held
now. He was pleased by my adherence, and that made me very
happy.