Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 54: Isaac or the World

"Ryne's not going to be happy about this," Penny muttered.

She hurried up the spiral staircase. Camille dogged her steps, taking great care not to brush against the damp stone walls of the tower. Penny was showing less compunction, but she was also dressed in an oversized tunic that was already covered with ink and grass stains. So, you know. Not a great loss.

Camille hiked her skirts up. "Ryne's never happy."

"Untrue," Penny countered. "Tristan once gave him a striped waistcoat for Yulemas. Ryne actually smiled that day."

Camille took a breath. "That was six years ago."

"I know," Penny said. "I remember it fondly."

Camille doubled her pace. Her legs were burning, but she forced herself to go faster. "Thank you for doing this."

Penny glanced over her shoulder. "Don't thank me yet. It might not work."

"It will," Camille said.

Camille braced a hand against the slimy stone wall, trying to ignore the frantic thumping of her heart. Six days in bed hadn't done any favours for her cardiovascular health. Neither had the life-threatening stomach wound. Penny — who seemed annoyingly unaffected by their climb — carried on.

"What makes you think Isaac knows something that can help us?"

Camille forced herself to carry on. "Logic."

Penny gave her a look. "Even if we ask Isaac the right questions... I can only read people's emotions, Cami. Not their thoughts."

"I know," Camille said. "But I have an idea. Trust me."

They cleared the top of the landing. The young guard standing outside the door — Arden, if she recalled correctly — gave them a wary look. But he must have decided that Penny's title carried enough weight, because he stepped aside.

"I'll go first," Camille said.

She pushed open the door. The scent of woodsmoke hit her, followed by something musky. The circular room had changed; Isaac had pushed the silkscreen aside to make room for a map of Stillwater Castle, which was littered with paperclips. Battle strategies, Camille realized, watching Isaac move one of them; he was mapping out troop movements.

"Camille." Isaac looked up in surprise. "The guard let you in."

A lump rose in her throat. "Am I interrupting?"

"Oh, yes," Isaac said solemnly. "I'm on a very strict schedule these days. At five o'clock, I see how many times I can bounce an apple off the wall, and then six o'clock is reserved for dinner with myself."

Camille leaned against the doorframe. "Well, I wouldn't want you to stand yourself up."

"Oh, I do that already," Isaac said. "Keeps things interesting."

His grey eyes skipped over her, and Camille relaxed her posture, trying to look like she was leaning against the door casually and not because she felt like her innards might fall out. She must have failed because Isaac's eyes narrowed.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," Camille lied.

A beat passed. Isaac pulled out a chair.

"Sit." It wasn't a suggestion. "You look exhausted."

"Actually," Camille said, "I've brought someone with me."

She stepped aside. Isaac went rigid, his eyes fixed on the door.

"Penny," he said.

The other girl stepped into the room. Penny's gaze was steady, but Camille could see her hand shaking slightly behind her back. She turned, and her hair glimmered like liquid flame in the firelight.