Chapter 2: Part 9 - That Other World

Vasha was starting to think she was the unluckiest person in all of Tyria. Recognising the sounds in Yinn’s recordings had seemed too good to be true – and in hindsight, it was. Caught up in her excitement, it had never even occurred to her that she wasn’t the only one who might be able to decipher Yinn’s unintentional clues. The only time she’d visited Timberline Falls, after all, she hadn’t been alone.

She realised, too, that she’d underestimated Jean. She might not think kindly of him, but she’d been attracted to him precisely because he wasn’t an idiot. There were times when he acted like any other noble fool, but behind the occasional displays of arrogance, bravado and faux-modesty lay a keen intelligence. Jean might prefer to be one step behind whoever was in charge, but mentally, Vasha had always thought he was one step ahead.

Which meant they were now here together, trapped inside this grotesque stone head, halfway up a mountain. It wasn’t entirely dark, now that her eyes had adjusted; the eye sockets of the carving let in a decent amount of light. Unfortunately, that only made it easier to see that the walls of the room were rapidly developing a thick layer of ice.

Jean ran his fingers over it. “It’s some kind of spell or trap. It might be designed to seal the room…”

“Or Yinn might be trying to freeze us to death.” Vasha wrapped her arms around herself. She would have run for the door, but the ice was already too thick to break, and she didn’t want to look frantic in front of Jean. Let him think she was calm and controlled, not a panicking mess. “That sounds like exactly the sort of thing he’d find funny.”

“We don’t know that,” Jean said, sounding distracted. “We don’t know anything about Yinn at all. That’s why he’s so dangerous.”

“We know one thing about him.” Shivers ran down Vasha’s back. She spoke to distract herself, more than anything – from the cold, from the dark, from the fact she was stuck in this room with the last person she even wanted to speak to, let alone be trapped beside. “He didn’t intend us to find this place.”

Jean’s gaze turned on her, as piercing as ever. “What makes you say that?”

Vasha gestured to the wall behind her, now encased in ice. “There was something hanging there. I was trying to reach it when…” When you arrived.

Jean frowned at the wall, though there was no longer anything to see. “Something belonging to Yinn?”

“A bag, I think.” Vasha’s teeth were beginning to chatter, making it difficult to force the words out. “Those sounds we both heard, in his message? I don’t think that was a clue. I don’t think he ever thought we’d find him here. Either we frightened Yinn off and he set this trap as he left, or it was prepared in advance in case anyone turned up here whilst he was gone.”

“Yes, the trap.” Jean ran his hand over the wall again. “I’ve never seen anything like this. If Yinn is an elementalist, he might be even better than Auri.”

He abruptly bent, placing both hands flat on the floor; that, at least, was still stone. When Jean straightened again, a small fire burned where his hands had been.

“I won’t be able to keep it burning for long, but it’s better than nothing. I’m sure help will arrive soon.”

Vasha bit back a laugh. Help? She’d left the rest of the Marauders in a norn camp at the base of Krongar Pass. Gull had promised to watch over Roan and Haki, both of whom still showed little interest in the game or their surroundings. Vasha, meanwhile, had claimed she was going to ‘scout the area’, but that had been hours ago. With all the activity in Timberline Falls, even Gull wouldn’t be able to track her now. If the alternative was being rescued by Jean’s family, including that stuck-up sister of his, Vasha wasn’t sure she wanted to be rescued at all.

Jean crouched beside the meagre flames, warming his hands over them. He looked up at her expectantly. “Vasha?”

For several heartbeats, Vasha stared longingly at the fire. All she had to do was edge closer and she’d be warm… But she couldn’t stop the memories flooding in. Hadn’t Jean conjured a fire just like that one, the day he’d brought her to Guilty Tears years ago? The thought made her shudder.

“What is it?” Jean was on his feet again, holding out a hand; Vasha had to resist the urge, petty though it was, to turn her back. “Are you all right?”

“Of course I’m bloody not,” Vasha spat, before she could think better of it. Jean didn’t recoil, but that just made her angrier. “How can you think anything about this situation is all right?”

“Well, it’s not, but… Will you please just sit by the fire?”

“No.” Now she knew she was being petty, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. Out of all the people she could have been trapped with, why did it have to be him?

Jean was studying her, she realised, like a puzzle to be solved. “You’re still angry,” he said slowly.

“And you still have no idea why.” Vasha knew that much was true – she could see it in his eyes.

“Then why don’t you explain it to me.”

His patient tone only infuriated Vasha more. She threw up her hands, but that just made the cold pinch her flesh harder. Her chest ached, as though every breath sucked in shards of ice. Worse, Jean didn’t look like he felt the cold at all.

Weariness swept over Vasha, though she couldn’t be sure whether that was from the cold or the conversation. “I shouldn’t have to explain, Jean – not two years ago and not now.”

“I know, I know.” Jean’s look was beseeching. “But I’m an idiot, all right? We can both agree on that.”

Vasha laughed despite herself. “Do you really, truly, not understand?”

“Why you left or why you’re angry?” Jean sounded wary, as though she was going to explode all over again. “Or are they the same thing?”

“They’re the same.” A shudder ran through Vasha. She tried to take a step towards the fire, but her legs wouldn’t move. It was easier to just keep talking. “Do you remember that dinner you took me to? The one with your family?”

Jean still looked wary. “Of course I do.”

“That was when I finally realised what you were doing to me. How, even without meaning to, you were always trying to change me.”

Jean opened his mouth to protest – then, wisely, shut it again. He gave a small nod, indicating he was listening.

Vasha sighed, watching her breath cloud in the air. “All that time you spent on the streets, running around like just another gutter brat – it didn’t fool anyone, you know. No matter how you dressed, everyone knew you were different. Then, when you started to introduce me to the other parts of your life… I knew I could never belong there.

“But you just couldn’t see that. I sold the clothes you bought me. I sold the jewellery. I cried after that bloody awful dinner, because your sister thought I was too stupid to understand all the ways she was insulting me. I couldn’t be part of that world.”

“I wanted to show you something better,” Jean said, his voice cracking. “I wanted to make you happy.”

“You did make me happy, but not with finery and gifts. Every time you tried to make me fit into that other world of yours, you were trying to change me. Maybe you didn’t even realise it, but you wanted me to be more like you.”

“I didn’t… I mean, I never…” Jean made a small, strangled sound. It was followed by a sigh. “I’m sorry. I wish I’d known, Vasha. I really do.”

“And I wish I’d told you, two years ago,” Vasha said, realising it for the first time. “But I was too young and too bull-headed to ever admit the truth. Instead, I ran away.”

Finally, she took a step towards the fire, sinking down beside the flames. After a moment, Jean sat down beside her, not quite touching. There didn’t seem to be anything more to say.

Vasha closed her eyes. Time drifted away from her, lost in the cold and the darkness. Once, she thought she heard voices, only for them to fade away again.

“I think we might really die in here,” Jean said, though he sounded more bemused than worried. “At least we had a chance to talk.”

Vasha tried to say that she was glad of that, but the words got stuck behind her dry lips. She wasn’t sure she could feel the cold any more. Hadn’t her chest always been this numb? Wasn’t this the way her body had always felt? And she was so tired, so ready to sleep…

Light. Vasha gasped at the shock of it, at the piercing sound of cracking ice. There were shouts, voices swirling all around her, hands she could barely feel hauling her to her feet.

And Jean, his face turned radiant by the light intruding on their silent prison. He was only a few paces away, speaking words she couldn’t make sense of. Right there, so close she could almost touch him – but for the first time, Vasha knew he was forever out of reach.