She almost stopped making a face to smile. Maybe she was growing on Rhyss, like definitely non-edible moss.
"I think this is what they mean when they say there's a difference between living and thriving," Bel muttered. Something nagged at her about what Rhyss had said. She talked about the best course of action, but Bel thought Heln was right and they probably could go back. It was the only sure-fire way they knew out of there and the search parties must have already cleared the entrance.
Going back was really their best option, but Bel didn't even want to try. Just the thought made her feel heavier. The idea of moving forward was vastly more appealing, even if they'd taken a wrong turn and the tunnel going to the Temple was a lie.
"At least a little further, then." Heln's voice broke through her thoughts.
If they were all in agreement, for once, then she wasn't going to voice her doubts. The tunnels had to go somewhere, so Bel nodded. "I liked how 'one last hurrah' sounded better."
"That makes it sound like we're going to die," Rhyss told her, flatly. There was the glare, she'd almost missed it.
"You're always so negative." She moved to her knees and held out her hand. "Now give me your dagger knife thingy so I can set up a barrier, because I'm about to fall asleep."
*~*~*
Bel slept hard, deep and dreamless, but woke up feeling arguably worse than she had they day before. Her entire body ached. Most notably, her legs were sore and when she tried to stand up she yelped and nearly fell over. The bottoms of her feet were so tender it felt like she was walking on crushed glass. She hadn't taken her boots off, it was too cold to sleep without them, and now she didn't want to. She really didn't want to see her feet. If blood started oozing out of her soles she didn't think she would be surprised.
Rhyss called her a baby and told her it was because she wasn't used to walking very far. She seemed fine, even stretching a bit before leaving to get more water.
"Are we sure we're doing the right thing?" Heln asked. He looked less pale, though it was hard to tell in the perpetual twilight. He said the scratches on his back didn't hurt, but Rhyss had handed Bel her ointment and told her to smear it on Heln's back again anyway.
"Probably not, but I don't think there's really a right thing and a wrong thing in this particular situation." Bel reminded him. She smeared green goop on the last scratch and Heln shuddered. "Stings?"
"It's freezing." Heln tugged his shirt back down, shivering. "I'm cold and I'm tired. My feet feel like they're probably permanently stuck in these boots, and I think we're heading off towards certain doom…"
"Slow down there, Heln, we've already hit rock bottom." Bel looked down at the moss and grass. "Well. Close enough. Remember? It only goes up from here."
"Or we smash through the rock and fall into a gaping black abyss of death and despair," Heln muttered.
"See, the point I was trying to make was that optimism is going to do us a lot more good then what you're doing."
"Being realistic?"
"Actually, the reality is that we have no idea what could be on the other side of this room," Bel reminded him with a smile that was probably a few shades off from winning. She had tried scrubbing her teeth with a stick after Rhyss told her that was what the Guard did when they were out on the field. It had left a lot to be desired and she was pretty sure Rhyss was laughing at her.
Heln didn't even try to smile. "Are you still voting dragons?"
"I'm voting a giant room full of fluffy beds and kittens. Maybe some rainbows. And attractive people serving us apenberry juice in crystal goblets."
"I'm voting another tunnel full of glowing moss." Rhyss walked around the corner of the building they had used for shelter the night before, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Do I win?"
"You know what? I figured out your problem. You have absolutely no imagination." Bel folded her arms. "None at all. And you're just as pessimistic as he is."
She jerked a thumb at Heln and it took very little imagination to almost hear Heln rolling his eyes.
With Rhyss, she didn't even have to picture it, she just did it, right in front of her face. "Well, I don't really need imagination to get us out of here. It looks like you have your stuff, so let's go."
There were still little lights on the other side of the castle. More buildings loomed suddenly from the trees, more like the ghosts of structures than anything solid. The light grew weaker the farther they walked until Bel had to spin an illumination bubble despite the natural glow of the forest. She wasn't sure if her own imagination was getting away with her, but she thought the path was more defined. The little white stones seemed more plentiful.
Heln and Rhyss weren't in the mood to talk. Bel tried a few times to engage them in some sort of conversation, but their short, one-word answers made her give up after a while. The forest and its ruins seemed to be a weight that pressed in on all sides, anyway, making any words feel small and flat. Thoughts were the same way, so Bel decided to focus on how much her feet hurt. The pain was, for once, an almost welcome distraction. Especially when her only view besides trees and creepy buildings was Heln's back and his shredded jacket, or the rips in Rhyss's cloak. She wondered when that had happened for about five seconds before she realized that she didn't actually want to know. Instead Bel pretended Rhyss had gotten caught on a tree branch.
The floating lights faded and the ceiling was nearly dark when they reached the end of the
