“You can fly,” she said at last.
“You continue to be utterly terrifying.”
She huffed a hollow laugh.
“There’s a gravestone up there with your name on it.”
“I know. They didn’t want to admit I’d gotten away.”
“How’d you do it?”
“I jumped. Fell into one of the old buildings at the Iron level.”
“That had to hurt.”
“It did.”
Again they subsided into silence. Scorio shook his head, took a suddenly startled breath as his eyes filled with tears and grinned. “It’s so good to see you.”
“They said you were dead.”
“They did their best to kill me.” And Scorio told her everything. From their arrival at the esplanade, Druanna’s demands, the cup’s malfunction, Ydrielle’s betrayal.
“That’s what the cup really does,” said Naomi dully. “It was a lie. That it’s a miniature Crucible. It just drains mana. It’s a defensive artifact.”
“Oh.” Scorio considered. “Makes sense.”
He told her about the Crucible. Ydrielle’s prism. Tried to put into words what he’d been through but found his throat constricting. Naomi reached out and touched his arm. “I understand.”
He told her about how he’d used Nox’s technique to survive, adapted it, killed the saurians.
She raised both brows. “You just popped them?”
“Just popped them.”
She gave a startled laugh. “You’re kidding me. Gold-fiends?”
“Strong but dumb, I guess.”
“Reminds me of someone I know.”
Even her insults were comforting.
He recounted his eventual ascension to Flame Vault. His escape. Moira. His hunting down of Davelos and watching him burn.
“He’s dead?” Naomi’s voice grew savage. “Good. I’m glad he burned slow. That bastard. That—that—”
Tears filled her eyes and she looked away.
Scorio waited.
“He was the one who killed Leonis. Lianshi and I were forced to watch. It was… it was not a good death, Scorio.” Naomi’s voice grew tight. “I tried to break free, to help, but…”
Scorio closed his eyes and fought for stillness.
“I swore I’d avenge you all.” Naomi’s voice grew small. “I swore I’d not leave the Chasm till I could kill each and every one of them.”
“You’ve been down here the whole time?”
“When I recovered from my fall I realized I had nowhere else to go. My legs were broken, anyway, so I dug myself into the deepest crack I could find. They searched for me for weeks. Decided that I must have fallen all the way down. I waited. I healed. Then I realized that I was an empty vessel. All that desaturation had left me primed. I crawled down to Bronze.”
“You were an Emberling,” protested Scorio.
Naomi smiled crookedly. “I didn’t say it didn’t hurt. But I just lay there. It felt like a fever dream. But my desire for vengeance gave me purpose. Made my old grievances feel petty, so… I let them go. And that’s when I made Tomb Spark.”
“And healed.”
“And healed. My new power allowed me to pass from shadow to shadow. It made it easy to descend to where the Silver was. It was all I could bear. I took sips. It felt like drinking fire, but the pain… the pain was good. It was all I felt, for a while.”
Scorio nodded, understanding.
“I only dared Ignite with Silver. But occasionally I’d climb up to spy on the camp. To listen in. Enough to be sure our enemies were still there. To refuel my hate. Then I’d drop. I learned how to get around, how to best use my shadow step. Not using the obvious ways Manticore prefers. Secret ways. Hidden ways. I learned to avoid the most dangerous fiends. They learned to respect me as I hunted them, one by one. It was… hard.”
He didn’t need her to elaborate.
“I…” Her eyes filled with tears again. “There were times when I… when I would grow weak, and… but then I’d think of you, of Leonis crying, and I’d promise myself, over and over again that I’d not end it till…”
Scorio reached out and touched her hand. “I understand.”
A single sob tore itself free and she ducked her chin.
Again he moved up alongside her, put an arm over her shoulders, and they remained thus, still. He listened to the sound of her breathing, felt her warmth against his side, and a part of him that he’d thought forever wounded began to heal.
“There’s four left,” said Naomi softly.
“Four?”
“Crush made Dread Blaze. I heard them say it. When I made Flame Vault I decided to leave the Chasm and start hunting. I was about to begin. I swear I was.”
“And Evelyn said Jova’s with them.”
Naomi’s anger curdled the air. “She is.”
Scorio squeezed her against him. “We’ll make them pay. All of them.”
“All of them,” whispered Naomi.
And in her Scorio knew that he’d found a friend with the same endless capacity for rage and hatred.
Chapter 55
“So you’re tempered with Gold?” It wasn’t really a question. Naomi was gazing at him sidelong, half skeptical, half disapproving.
“Almost exclusively, yeah.”
They had made their way to her small camp. It was dismal, cramped, and located in the Silver region, reachable only by dark cracks deep within the rock. Little more than a blanket and a few stolen books, it barely merited the name.
“What?” He almost wanted to laugh. “You look upset.”
She glowered as she stalked over to him. Stared at his chest and punched him lightly. He barely felt it.
“I felt immense satisfaction with tempering Silver.” Her glower remained. “And you show up tempered Gold. It’s not… fair.”
Her statement was so ridiculous that he did laugh.
She scowled at him and punched him, harder. He barely rocked back. The blow felt distant, like the echo of a punch distantly heard.
“You feel… dense. Heavy.” She poked at his chest with a finger. “Like metal wrapped in a thin layer of leather.”
“A far cry from tempering Coal.”
“Let me try something.” Scorio watched her with mild apprehension as she took up a board of wood as long as her arm from her miniscule wood pile. “This probably won’t hurt.”
“What are you—?”
She brought it down two-handed. The board was thick, but Naomi’s Silver-tempered strength was such that she broke it across his shoulder.
“Ow,” said Scorio, more out of a sense of obligation.
Naomi frowned at the broken piece in her hand. “Ridiculous. You must heal like it’s a unique power of yours.”
“I do heal pretty quickly now.”
She met his eyes. “How did you survive Gold, Scorio? Silver felt like being lowered into molten metal. Gold would have killed me.”
“I told you. Nox’s Marinating Technique, adjusted by how I saw Ydrielle control The Sloop. Also, I had no choice.”
Naomi frowned, Ignited her Heart, and flowed up into her Nightmare Lady form almost faster than he could follow. She slammed her huge knuckled fist into his sternum hard enough to lift him off the ground and slam him against the stone wall.
Scorio bounced off and fell to the ground with a cry of shock and anger. But she’d immediately shifted back down to her human form and dropped into a crouch to watch him curiously. “Anything broken?”
Scorio rubbed his chest. The pain was already fading. “No nothing’s broken, but what the hell?”
“Don’t be a baby.” She frowned at him. “That’s incredible, Scorio. A punch from me should have shattered your chest.”
“That’s how you do your research?” He scooted back against the wall. “For your information, that hurt.”
“No wonder you were able to go toe to toe with Davelos.” She rubbed a finger over her chapped lips. “I don’t think you appreciate how incredible this is. Silver’s impressive. Gold? Unheard of.”
“Well, good.” The pain was gone. “Because we’re hunting Dread Blazes.”
“And your Heart? You lasted far longer against Evelyn than you used to. While using several powers at once.”