Some were drenched in warm water as soon as they stepped into the basin. Others made it halfway. I was almost clear when the last waterspout caught me. Baxley reached forward and pulled me away, so only half of me got wet.
Being cold in Crystallese was one thing. Being wet and cold was a whole other kind of misery. The initial blast of warmth was lovely, but it was followed by a cold so biting that not only my teeth chattered as we exited the basin.
Captain Marson had his men spread out to explore the rock walls, with careful instructions not to touch or take anything, the firm reminder that the land and everything on it belonged to the king of Crystallese.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about being reminded I was a possession of the king. A king I’d never met, who, as far as I knew, had never traveled beyond the comfort of his throne room.
I hadn’t known I was following the pull in my chest until a hand clasped my upper arm and pulled me back into a solid chest.
“Bunny? You running down rabbit holes?” Nicco asked me quietly.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “I…” I looked back and realized I’d been heading toward the opening. “Oh.” I tried to smile. “I was going to wait for you.”
“See that you do.” He let go of me, and I stepped back immediately.
“Do you know what’s in there?” I asked.
“No. Mining equipment, maybe.”
I nodded. I didn’t know what mining equipment looked like, so I said nothing, but as always, he read my face too easily. “You never knew this was a mine?”
I turned to look down the tunnel. “It’s a mine?” I asked him. The tug in my chest said no. “Then why is it no longer in use? It still has much to mine, no?”
Nicco was watching the soldiers. “Good question. One we need to find the answer to.”
“Why?”
My question caught him by surprise. His gaze was on me again, and I shifted under his scrutiny. “What do you mean, why?”
I fiddled with the strap on my pack. “The soldiers are doing the consensus and?—”
“Census.”
I blinked. “What?”
“It’s a census. Consensus means agreement, which is completely different.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flushed at being corrected. “Okay. Well, the soldiers are doing that. I don’t know why mercenaries would be here.”
“Why shouldn’t we be?”
I didn’t have an answer for that. “You don’t seem the type to care about population numbers.” It seemed I had an answer after all.
Nicco’s head tilted back as he stretched his neck. His neck warmers were tucked under his chin, forming a thick scarf around his neck. His face was covered in a thick beard, and his hair was messy and unkept, yet he still looked as if he hadn’t suffered any hardship on this journey.
I almost laughed at myself for my inability to say he still looked good. Had he ever looked good? I mean, he looked good, but had I ever thought he looked good?
Whoa. No. I needed to stop.
“I don’t care,” he said, seeing my look, his eyes narrowing like he knew I was no longer focused on the question I’d asked. “You asked why I cared about numbers.”
“I know what I asked.” I didn’t admit I was so distracted by his looks that I’d forgotten the question. I pushed my head back and pulled the tail of my braid over my shoulder. My braid had grown looser than ever, and I considered redoing itwhile we waited for whatever Captain Marson and his men were cataloging.
“You bored waiting?” Nicco asked suddenly.
I looked up from the leather tie of my braid. “Yeah?”
“Baxley, you’re up,” he shouted over his shoulder, then walked into the tunnel, and I followed him.
