The Last Coffee Shop

Chapter 27: I'm Here to <R-e-s-c-u-e> Ruin You

Mads felt like she'd entered some mythical underworld as they picked their way through the sulfurous smoke and spontaneous bursts of flames. She had completely lost her sense of time since she and Graynard had left the ship. It could have been just a few hours; it felt more like years.

Once, the dangling tail of Luc's rope belt went up in flame, and he casually tossed it into a nearby pit. Mads watched the spiraling, curling, burning, twisting thing, and then was yanked out of the way of a fire gust that would have melted her face. At one point, Luc's right foot plunged into a small sinkhole, and a tense few seconds elapsed before he managed to pull it back out again.

But regardless of how much time had actually passed, Mads finally looked up and found herself scrambling onto sturdy black rock, catching the hand that Luc offered her and letting him pull her up beside him. Ahead of them, the sand and dirt had widened into a trail, and it twisted beyond her sight, curving into what she dared hope was a normal tunnel.

Luc sagged against the tunnel wall, winded and wide-eyed.

So he is human, after all, she thought, grateful for the chance to catch her breath.

"I never want to do that again." Luc's eyes were red-rimmed from the smoke, and they probably smarted as much as Mads' did. "It looked a lot easier on paper."

Mads gaped at him, processing what he'd just said. "Wait, you've never actually been through there?"

He shook his head. "But I've looked at the map hundreds of times. We were perfectly safe."

Mads pictured the leaping flames, the slipping sand that gave way as they passed it, the winding trail that she hadn't been able to determine, and then she hit him.

He wasn't as quick as normal, but she still missed his pretty face. Instead, her fist glanced off his shoulder as he dodged, sending him lurching into the wall, and making her hand sting with a sudden pain.

"Ouch!" Mads cradled her fist to her chest, glowering at him. The heat had split the just-healing skin across her knuckles.

Luc winced, with a backwards glance at the jutting rock behind him. He rolled his shoulder, prodding the place she'd hit with two filthy fingers. "I deserved that," he observed. "But we can have a proper match later, if you want. You know, your stance is kind of sloppy."

"What?" Mads was embarrassed at how shrieky her voice came out, but she was angry. "It's technically perfect, it's just this sand."

Luc took her arm. "Sand we need to get off of. I'm sure they'll be here any minute." His eyes strayed down her arm to her left hand, which had fresh blood dripping down from the splits. "Hellscapes," he muttered. "You're bleeding."

Still fuming, Mads shook off his hand and cradled her own hands to her chest. "My cut never had the chance to stop." She held up her right hand, the long, shallow slash across her palm red and irritated from sand, dirt, and stars knew what else. It was still dribbling blood every time she flexed or strained it, and it was probably going to get infected.

Luc rolled his shoulder again and glanced around. "No water or springs in this part, unfortunately. The path we're on leads to one, if I recall correctly. We should be there in around twenty minutes, if they don't find us."

Mads continued to glower at him. "Have you seen it before, or did you just see it one time on a map?"

He flashed her a quick (blinding) grin. "More than once. I memorized it, of course." Then he reached out and took her hand again, frowning at the fresh blood. "I could bind this up. But I'd need to tear up my shirt, or part of your robes. So which one of us is going to walk around half naked?" His expression went from gleeful to sly, his lips curling suggestively as he gestured from her torn and filthy robe to his stained (and even more filthy) tunic.