13. Mazituz

THIRTEEN

"You need your rest."

Camille rests reluctantly on her bed of moss, her blonde hair illuminated by the star-like shimmer of pearls and relics resting overhead. I feel almost small in her glow.

"That's ridiculous," she says. "You've already taken me through the caverns several times. Why would it be any more strenuous now?"

Her enthusiasm is encouraging but confusing. As much joy as I feel at showing her my world and bringing her closer to me, her determination is almost exhausting. She now refuses to rest, in spite of the immense trauma she's had to overcome.

"Like I told you, Camille, you've had a hard life," I say. "I wasn't making a random comment. The life you've led has worn your body down, and we need to get you healthy."

I lay a glowing red herb at her feet.

Her tour of my realm was not just intended to bring her closer to me. There are plants in these caverns that can restore her to full health. They can fix her stray coughs, her constant exhaustion, and even erase some of the mental trauma she's endured.

This particular plant is meant to induce slumber. Part of her healing will have to come from herself.

"I don't care what you have to say," she says. "I'm coming with you."

My tentacles spiral erratically, providing an external symbol of my conflicted mind. I do enjoy her company, and I'm going to hate leaving her behind. But she's so stubborn, I find it impossible to be direct with her at times.

"Why don't you take a few bites of that herb?" I say, my back turned to her as I stand at the entrance to my lair. "Then maybe we can see how you feel after that."

She picks it up. It's round, and it exudes yellow spores.

"I've never seen this before," she says, turning it around in her hands. "It looks poisonous."

"It isn't. It will help your body heal."

She looks at me, cocking her eyebrows. "How?" she asks.

I struggle over how not to lie to her exactly, knowing that if she continues to stay awake, it's going to wear her body down beyond repair.

"It will help you heal," I say, not exactly lying but not disclosing the entire truth either.

She puzzles over it a little longer.

"I'll let you come with me in a bit," I say. "But only if you eat that."

"And you promise this isn't poison?"

"I promise it won't hurt you," I reply.

Thankfully, she doesn't question my deflection and takes a small bite of the herb.

She has to fight to keep herself from spitting it out. "This is disgusting!"

"I said that it would be good for your body," I say. "I didn't say it would taste pleasant."

She shakes her head, pushing more of it into her mouth.

As I stand between my lair and the deep caverns, I can see her body drooping.

When she's fully asleep, I move through the maze-like caverns, knowing I'll have plenty of time.

In the deep forests, I find a crystal capable of helping humans forget. I've heard that some exploit this property, performing elaborate tricks on people to get what they want.

I just want to undo the damage caused by her imprisonment. If I can make recovering from the grief easier and allow her to trust again, I'll consider it a victory.

Some of the most sturdy crystalline trees contain a sap that, when rubbed on muscles, allows for deeper healing, drawing nutrients from the body toward those areas people deem necessary. I sense the damage brought on by confinement runs deeper than mere surface-level abrasions. Even the muscle function needs to be repaired for her to truly heal.

And finally, many of the herbs down here allow for improved organ function and health, which might go far toward healing her lungs and erasing her cough.

She claims she doesn't notice it, but I've seen how the smoky halls of the elven cities can impact the lungs, causing random coughing fits and even early death. They burn torches in close quarters, never evaluating how their technology might harm in such confined areas. The fuels they burn are not good for the body.

And humans like Camille have suffered the most for it, never allowed to move around or roam freely. They're always trapped behind metal bars, forced to inhale the open fumes of torches and strange, nightmarish devices.

I bound back toward my lair, carrying the multiple remedies with ease.

As expected, her slumber is long and necessary. I'm hours early, setting the ingredients at the entryway of my lair. I try to distract myself so I'm not watching her sleep, but her beauty is so much more enticing than the blank halls and spiraling cavern walls.

She wakes with a satisfied yawn, and I turn to her.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," she says through another stretch and a yawn.

She won't admit it, and she probably doesn't notice it, but she already looks so much better than the day before. Her wounds are healing well.

"That's fine," I say. "I had a pleasant walk through the caves."

She shakes her head. "Doing more exploring without me, are you?"

Somehow, I feel inclined to distrust her. She's so much more agreeable and cooperative than I remember. Is she up to something?

I try to stifle the fear, recognizing it as an ailment brought on by my own loneliness. Perhaps there are remedies deep underground that might help even me once Camille has fully recovered.

She looks toward the door. "What's all that?" she asks.

"Oh," I tell her, kicking the red crystal off to the side. That will have to come later. "These are some herbs that might aid your recovery."

She sighs.

"Not as foul as what you gave me earlier, is it?"

I chuckle in response.

As it turns out, some of the items I collected actually are quite delicious, or so Camille claims. Over time, I feed some of the sap and nectar I gathered to Camille, watching her steady but gradual recovery.

She keeps insisting on coming along with me into the mines, and eventually, I allow her to join me, her energy returning in longer bursts as her injuries fade.

I start to wonder if her frailty was a mere ruse or if she was ever really injured at all. Before, I had to slow down for her, matching my pace with her weakened step. Now I find her darting ahead, seemingly staring on her own at the plants and creatures that roam through the mine.

"Careful," I remind her. "You might find beauty in the worlds of these caverns, but they're also incredibly dangerous."

Her curiosity and enthusiasm upon recovering some of her strength are inspiring. It's like I'm seeing my own world through new eyes.

Her eyes aren't just drawn to the glowing crystalline plants deep within the cavern, but to plants and creatures I'd never even given thought to. She likes the strange hole-like formations on some of the crimson flowers deep below the earth. She also remarks on how the branches on subterranean trees point downward rather than upward.

"You're fascinated by the oddest things," I say as she picks up what appears to be a fossilized insect, holding it up under scrutiny.

I often catch her glimpsing around her as though despite how incredibly enamored she is with the plants and creatures of my realm, she's missing something more pressing.

"This might be like a home for you, but the very laws of nature work differently down here."

I entertain her line of thinking. "And how is this world different?"

She looks up at the trees. "Well, I don't know where your crystal trees are getting their food, but our trees point toward the sun so they can draw energy from it."

I shake my head in disbelief. "You might think this place is strange, but I believe your world is the strange one, Camille."

She laughs. "I actually often wonder how anything grows down here," she says. "Everything in my world gets its energy from the sun. The plants grow in its light, which feeds small animals, which feeds larger animals…"

I stare at her expectantly, a small fly fluttering around her head.

"How does this world sustain itself? Is it magic? Where does the energy come from?"

"I do not know, Camille. I am sorry."

After a short time of investigation, we return to exploring.

Being a prisoner her entire life, now there is no caging Camille. I find it difficult to understand how anybody could subdue such a free and wild spirit.

She seems to find herself hitting dead end after dead end, searching through the tunnels I know so well to their full capacity. I try to give her the freedom she needs while offering a safe, reassuring presence. Monsters far crueler than I would prey upon a creature like Camille.

I shudder at the thought.

Over the days and weeks, I find myself growing closer to Camille and learning to trust her. In the back of my mind, I wonder if she would ever grow used to a creature like me, or if perhaps we're entirely incompatible after all.

But I try to silence those thoughts. I am grateful to have claimed a human so curious and talkative. No longer do I find myself listening for signs of the elven cities above, or for the monsters and waves of the seas beyond my realm. Those worlds no longer hold such enticing mysteries, and I find myself growing bored with their prospects.

I've found strength and inspiration in Camille's company. The tasks I once considered monotonous, like gathering food for my survival, become pleasant and so much more layered around her. She shows me new ways to approach eating and living so my food is not so dull, and my upkeep is not so tedious.