The cavern had grown warmer from the fire, enough that I wasn't worried about hypothermia anymore. Our clothes hung near the flames, still damp but getting there. Another few hours and we'd be presentable again.
Assuming the Arborist gave us a few hours.
I reached for the knife she'd grabbed from the pedestal, still lying where it had fallen after we'd used it to unlock the doorway. The blade caught the firelight, those silver swirls moving like they were alive. The heartwood of the First Tree, forged into a weapon specifically to kill the thing that had imprisoned it for millennia.
Poetic justice had a certain appeal.
"You should be sleeping."
Her voice startled me. I looked down to find her eyes open, watching me with that analytical gaze that seemed to see more than I wanted her to.
"Could say the same about you, Princess."
