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[rowan_narrators]

Midday on Sunday, the group reaches the Tombstones, long rows of naturally rounded rocks emerging from the desert sand. The shaman announces that they're clear of the siren's curse, and for the first time, the caravan forges on ahead, not bothering with the twists and turns of their prior route

Comments

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra walked quietly through the city, her dark eyes flitting from side to side, curiously taking in each and every sight. On the whole, she found much to like in this place. While it lacked the symmetry of Jhelbor (Trojans and Greeks alike had always adored symmetry), it had character, as if each rock and stone and plant had a story. That was a ridiculous cliche, one Cassandra had once scorned, but now, looking at Loiol, she understood it was true.

It was only a matter of time before she reached an abandoned building, one she immediately knew was a temple. There was no possible explanation for this instinct, but then, there had been little explanation for any of the other abilities and wisdoms Cassandra had attained. She simply knew. She knew. That had always been the most important word shared between Cassandra and Apollo. That had not gone away

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra nodded. "It's a distinct possibility that anyone who takes a stand could die," she told him. She respected him too much to give any sort of codling reply. Hopefully, he understood that. And he seemed a lot smarter than he pretended to be.

"We haven't been pressed into service," she continued. "And I doubt anyone will force us to to fight if we choose not to." No one would force him, she supposed. Cassandra herself, for reasons beyond her understanding, was suddenly inclined to take a stand. She had a score to settle with that mermaid girl.

"You don't have to fight."

[creaoi_ang_cor]

Oh good, and there was that fear again.

Cris didn't enjoy feeling this way, not one bit. It proved everything his father had ever said. But he couldn't help it, and he couldn't just turn it off. All he could do was try to distract himself from it.

"I know." Which would be worse: facing his fears, or running and hiding and proving Felic right? At least in one scenario he was more likely to come out of it alive. On the other hand, it was probably stupid to try and fight just to settle a grudge.

"And yes, I'm... not entirely comfortable with the idea of us squaring off against that woman again." An extremely long-winded way of saying it, because he couldn't make himself say 'afraid.' "But trust me, that doesn't make what I want to say any less true."

That, at least, he believed.

[cassie_of_troy]

She smiled wryly. No one was 'entirely comfortable' with the idea of fighting a woman that powerful. No one but masochists. Comfort and necessity rarely went hand in hand, she thought.

Perhaps now was the time for some levity. "I've died before," Cassandra said with a smirk. "Not as bad as it seems."

That might not have had the desired affect, but it was too late to take it back now.

[creaoi_ang_cor]

At that, she would get a wry smile. "Well, sure, if the afterlife is like this, I suppose it's not all bad." There were sunsets and there was mead- sometimes- and...

"If I was able to meet someone like you there, I believe I could be perfectly content."

[cassie_of_troy]

That remark caught Cassandra surprisingly off guard. She listened to it again in her head, doing her best to read his intonations and tones. What she was searching for, she wasn't certain. A trace of sarcasm? A hint of irony? Something behind the words.

Something Paris?

Uncertain how to respond with words, she dipped her head in gratitude, giving him a faint smile. "I believe the afterlife is very much like life," she said. "People go about their business, meet people, fall in love, hate one another, just like here. Everything is just like in life, except the dead don't dream. What would they have left to dream of?"

[creaoi_ang_cor]

"Hmm." That didn't sound like a bad prediction. Back on Willhaven, even though he knew where he'd be going when he died, he hadn't a clue what he'd be doing there. Here he was even less sure. But that didn't sound half bad.

Cris was getting the feeling she was trying to distract him. It was working- he hadn't thought about death for a whole minute (oops)- but he also wasn't completely getting out what he'd wanted to say. Had she guessed it? Was she trying to stop him from doing it?

He looked for an opening in what she'd just said, and- nope. Couldn't find one. Still, something she had said intrigued him.

"But what's the point of doing all that if you can't dream?" He glanced sidelong in her direction. "Especially falling in love."

[cassie_of_troy]

"I would hope," Cassandra said, "that the dead have no reason to dream because they have everything they need. The origin of love always lies in souls and what are the dead but souls?" Hector's story bubbled under her consciousness. "And honestly, what do they have to be afraid of? Death?" She smirked. "Once you survive that, what else is there to fear?"

She paused a moment to consider what she had just said. "I suppose," she amended, "that I speak only of the righteous dead. Fiends and turncoats and liars face a different sort of afterlife, if the stories and visions of my world are correct." A shiver ran up her spine at the thought of Tantalus. He had been in her very last vision. Trapped in a pool of water, forever unable to drink, surrounded by food and forever unable to eat. But that punishment fit the crime.

[creaoi_ang_cor]

"That's in your world, though, isn't it?" Oh, pitch it. Might as well ask. Maybe she knew something. "Don't suppose you've seen anything about what happens in this world?"

[cassie_of_troy]

She frowned slightly. "No," she admitted. This was a difficult thing for Cassandra to think about. She had certain expectations about death. She expected to be reunited with Othryoneus. Apollo had promised her this. Rowan meant that promise might be broken, depending on how their afterlife worked and this was not something that she relished.

"We could ask Robbie," she said after a moment. Then she wondered if Cris knew who that was. "He rescued me during the storm," she explained. "They say he's necromancer." Was that the word? She wasn't entirely sure. "That he can commune with the dead."

[creaoi_ang_cor]

"Robbie. Yeah, I know him." He had been a part of the group that had ended up among the centaurs, and by Alea, that seemed like ages ago. But... Robbie. Real serious guy. Very quiet...

Cris suddenly realized that Cassandra had managed to get him completely off-track of what he'd been trying to say. Again.

He was starting to lose the confidence- or at least the adrenaline- necessary to get the words out. That was not a feeling he enjoyed, either.

"At least it's beautiful here," he said a little lamely, reaching for a topic. "A great improvement over the desert, I think."

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra nodded, gazing out over the village again. "It is beautiful," she agreed. "I could see myself living someplace like this," she admitted. "Perhaps with a bit more activity. I did like being around the Frolicking Stoat. I like the noise."

She sat down on the ledge of the roof, the skirt of her chiton flowering out around her like a parachute. She smoothed it down for modesty's sake. "How long do you think they'll let us stay?" They could honestly dedicate months to exploring every nook and cranny of this village, learning every secret and every story the rocks and stones had to offer.

[creaoi_ang_cor]

Cris dropped down to a sitting position and slid down the roof to the spot next to her. There was no fear- after all, if he fell he could just catch himself.

"Not overlong, I expect. Epic battle to get to and all." He turned to look at her, saw the way the quickly dwindling light played on her face, and suddenly found new resolve.

And damn it, she was not going to derail him again.

"I think you're beautiful."

[cassie_of_troy]

She looked over at him in surprise. "Me?" Cassandra couldn't hide a little laughter in her voice. "Beautiful?" She shook her head. "That's not an adjective I get often. Strange. Dirty. Insane. All of the time, I should say. Beautiful?"

For a moment, she was silent. In her mind, she heard a note of music, a single, trembling chord, signaling at something powerful and potentially dangerous. It was the string of a lyre, humming and vibrating.

"Thank you," she told him quietly.

[creaoi_ang_cor]

For Cris' part, he heard a note of triumph. Gotcha. Aside from a small smirk, though, he stopped himself from looking smug.

"I know I've said as much before," he said, dangling his legs over the edge of the roof, "But I thought you might like to hear it when I don't have a cup in my hand."

Right. For the second time this evening, here went nothing. He'd had more than enough time to go over the words in his head.

"I've found you intriguing since the first moment I met you." He folded his hands in his lap, fingers laced together. "No- actually before that. When we first spoke in the journals. But I was still..." He shook his head. Even with all the rehearsal, he was correcting himself and faltering. "I know we both... had someone before. And I'm not asking for anything serious. Or anything at all, if you don't... But I just thought you should know that I think you are a brilliant, wonderfully strange, beautiful person, and I mean that sincerely

[cassie_of_troy]

The lyre note rose, becoming a solid, sustained scream. And then the string snapped and there was silence inside of Cassandra's head. Eerie. Cryptic. Frustratingly lonely silence. A silence that could only be filled with her own thoughts. And she could never trust her own thoughts.

His compliments were confusing, but what was more confusing was what he was asking her. What was he asking her? Based solely on what she had seen of him before, of her comparisons between Cris and Paris, on her assumptions, she half wondered if he were propositioning her. But that would be a simple, easy situation to manage. She would hiss at him, spit or slap him in the face, and leave.

But there was more than a simple proposition in his words and Cassandra didn't know what it was, but she knew enough that she couldn't handle this the way she normally would. Do with it what she would, he had said. She didn't know what she would do with it.

"I..."

But she faltered.

And I'm not asking for anything serious.

Did that mean it was a proposition