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A few minutes of quiet passed and I couldn’t seem to fall asleep. It wasn’t because of the din of voices from the hundreds of other miners in their pods below us. No, it was down to Vas’ nearness and the fact that my mind wouldn’t quit racing.
“When I arrived in the city,” I said and Vas opened his eyes. Evidently, he was finding it difficult to sleep, too. “I bought some food from a vendor and she mentioned something about a Star Festival happening soon. What is that?”
He shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable. It was a good thing neither of us suffered from claustrophobia.
“The Star Festival is like our version of Christmas,” he answered. “It’s a celebration of sorts. Everybody takes part, but the High Demon families hold an event that only citizens from the upper sectors are allowed to attend. There’s a gala ball where they all wear masks and congratulate themselves for being such wonderful people all year,” he said with no small amount of derision. His description made me picture a lavish gathering with no expense spared, full of demons who didn’t care that their city ran on the labour of people they deemed inferior. Then, as I was visualising it, a thought occurred.
“Will Red Armand be at the ball?”
“Undoubtedly. He attends it every year.”
“And everyone wears a mask?” I went on.
Vas frowned, like I was being obtuse. “That’s what I said.”
I widened my eyes at him, feeling excited as a plan formed in my mind. “Well, wouldn’t that be the perfect place to kill him? If everybody’s masked we can get in there, stab him with the sepial dagger, and get out without ever being identified. Plus, if there’s music and fanfare it’ll be a great distraction for other attendees not to notice what’s happening.”
“It isn’t a terrible plan, but how would we get into the ball? You need an invitation.”
“Are you forgetting you can teleport? With your tattoos gone you should have no trouble getting us in and out.”
He seemed hesitant. “I haven’t teleported in a while. My magic is still regenerating after being muted for so many months.”
“So, we’ll take our time, do a few practice runs. You’ll be back to your old self in no time.”
My persistent optimism seemed to irritate him. “I’ll think about it. Now try to sleep.”
“How can I sleep? My mind is racing. I feel too eager to get planning.”
“There’s no point trying to plan something so big on no sleep, Darya. Rest. We can figure out everything else in the morning.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” I said, closing my eyes. My body was too tense though. It took effort to maintain the narrow space between our bodies and to not lean against him. Opening my eyes again, I found Vas had his eyes closed, though I sensed he hadn’t yet managed to fall asleep. I took the opportunity to study his face, handsome even with the jagged scar. He had a slightly Greek shaped nose, and lips that were neither full nor thin, but somewhere in the middle. His cheekbones were sharp, the lines in contrasting angles to his protruding horns.
He sighed. “What is it, Darya?”
Feeling caught, I tried to keep my voice unaffected. “I told you, I can’t sleep.”
“That’s because you’re holding yourself too stiff. You needn’t worry. You won’t catch anything if you lean against me and it will be more comfortable for both of us.
“I’m fine as I am,” I replied, too proud to accept that he was right. I wasn’t relaxing my body and that was half the reason I couldn’t sleep.
“Darya,” Vas chided. “Just…” he trailed off, his hand going to my shoulder as he shifted me against him. “Turn around.”
I turned, finding myself facing the dark, stone wall, my back flush with Vas’ front. This position was less awkward than facing him, even though our bodies were now in what could be considered a more intimate position.
“See?” he said. “Much better.”
My hands rested in front of me, and Vas’ must’ve been at his sides because he didn’t rest his arm along my hip or torso. I could feel his breath on my neck though. It tickled my skin, sending a shocking trickle down my spine. Shocking, because it was pleasurable.
I closed my eyes once more and oddly found myself listening to Vas’ breathing, his heat at my back staving off the night-time chill. His breaths eventually grew deeper, and I sensed he’d fallen asleep. I continued focusing on his breaths, and soon I drifted off, too.
My dreams were riddled with anxiety and mixed up images of what I’d endured since journeying to Oreylia. I tasted the aromatic spice water I drank before being captured by those demons and locked in a cage. The fear in the eyes of the other captives, and the same fear reflected within my own. I saw Ren being knocked over the head and the hazy, drugged up eyes of the many miners who sought a chemically induced reprieve from the hell they could no longer endure.
