#i was so scared i'd forgotten how to draw them but nah still got it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Leave No Trace (Chap. 13)

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

Virgil woke all of them up with a loud scream.

Patton jumped up, tangled himself in his blanket, and fell to the path with a thump. Janus executed a more graceful tumble and roll, landing on his feet with his fists balled, looking around wildly.

Virgil didn't get up. He was sitting on the ground, hands shaking, his breath coming in uneven bursts. Patton spotted a few tears in his eyes.

"Virgil!" Patton exclaimed. Virgil flinched at the noise, and Patton lowered his voice. "How are you?"

"What—" Virgil paused and took a few deep breaths, hands clenched around his blankets, eyes wide. "I was—tree. There was a tree, and—"

"Oh. Okay, yeah." Patton cursed himself for not figuring that Virgil would be upset whenever he woke up. "Yeah, you're safe now, kiddo. Just breathe, okay? In and out. I can count for you, alright? In for four…"

Virgil followed Patton's instructions, and slowly, his hands loosened their grip. He still looked wild-eyed and lost, but no longer so shattered and unstable that he might fly apart at the seams. He took another shuddering breath and wiped his eyes, unfolding his legs and looking around.

"That was—" Virgil shook his head violently. "No. Never again—no."

"I'm with you there, kiddo." Patton carefully scooted towards Virgil. Virgil didn't move away. In fact, he leaned into Patton's shoulder. Patton wrapped an arm around him and rubbed his side in a rhythm. "That wasn't fun for us, and it must have been terrifying for you."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "Um. Sorry for waking you guys up."

"It's morning anyway," Janus said, sitting back down a few feet away, watching Virgil with an uncharacteristic cautiousness. "We would have risen soon. It's not a problem."

"We're just glad you're okay," Patton said. He brushed Virgil's bangs away from his eyes and looked him over. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just got turned into a tree," Virgil said wryly. "Nah, I'm alright. A little anxious, but I feel okay."

"Awesome!" Patton smiled. "Yeah. We're—yeah, I'm so glad."

"How'd you get me out?" Virgil asked. "I was sure I'd—you know."

Patton's smile froze a bit. He glanced in a panic at Janus, who looked equally unsure.

"I saw that," Virgil said, eyes narrowing. "You're not telling me something."

"What?" Patton asked, drawing the word out, his voice pitching unnaturally high. "No, never!"

"You're a terrible liar." Virgil turned to Janus. "What did Patton do?"

Janus hissed between his teeth. "I don't think this is relevant."

"I'm calling bull." Virgil was glowering now. "What happened. Are you—are you guys okay?"

"We're fine!" Patton held up his hands. "I promise!"

"Good, now tell me what you did."

"Okay. So." Patton worried his lip between his bottom teeth. "It turned out the person who controlled those trees was the Faerie we met earlier? The one who gave us the food? Yeah. And—um, she wouldn't let us out, and we needed her to free you, so—"

"So you…" Virgil's face was blank with incomprehension for a second. Then he almost jerked upright. "Pat, no. Tell me you did not."

"Did not what?" Patton laughed sheepishly. "Finish your sentences, kiddo."

"Make a deal with a Fae."

Patton giggled again. "Ha! Um. Maybe. Sort of."

Virgil's eyes blazed. "What."

"Look, we needed to get you out of there!" Patton babbled. "And it wasn't even a big deal, I chose something I wouldn't miss, she kept up her end of the trade, and everything's fine now so we don't need to worry about it—"

"You made a deal with a—" Virgil stood up abruptly. "Are you stupid? That's maybe the most ridiculous thing you've ever done! You could have died, you could've gotten us killed, you could have—"

"It's fine now," Patton insisted.

"It's not!" Virgil rounded on Janus. "Snake, why in the name of all that is on this earth didn't you stop Pat from being an idiot?"

Janus made an awkward coughing noise and looked away. "I may have also. Made a deal with the Faerie. So I am really not one to judge."

Virgil was silent for a few seconds, but not because he was struck speechless—because he seemed to be fighting for words to convey his anger.

"What?" he finally yelled.

"We needed to get out," Janus said. "It was the only viable course of action in the moment—"

"I don't care!" Virgil made a strangled screaming noise. "You're both stupid! You don't just make deals with Fae. What did you even trade?"

"Nothing," Janus said, his hackles raising.

"Clearly not, if she let you go!" Virgil ran his hands through his hair. "Ugh, I can't believe you guys! You should have just—"

"Just what?" Patton asked. "Let you die?"

"No," Virgil said weakly. "I—maybe?"

Patton shook his head. "That is not an option and it never will be."

"Besides, even if we chose to leave Virgil alone—which I specifically recommended—we still needed to escape." Janus spread his hands. "Believe me, I wish there had been another option, but I didn't see one."

Virgil huffed and started pacing back and forth on the path, his feet digging into the dirt. "We can fix this. We can fix this! We can—we can just summon her again, and we can undo the trade, and then—"

"And then you're put back in a tree and we're slowly killed," Janus said. "A wonderful plan. Bravo."

"We could trade something else! So you're not in debt to a literal Faerie!" Virgil ran his hands through his hair again. "Maybe I could trade something! Or—"

"Yes," Janus agreed, "after yelling at us about making deals with the Fae, you go and make more deals with the Fae. Not hypocritical at all."

"Can you shut up for two seconds?" Virgil snapped. "I'm trying to get you out of this mess!"

"Kiddo." Patton stood up and placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "I get that you're frustrated. But—we made our choice, and there's no turning back, and we should all just try to settle into it."

"How are you telling me to settle into it?" Virgil said almost desperately. "If it was me who did the deal, you'd do the exact same thing!"

Patton winced. Because the problem was, Virgil wasn't wrong.

"You're welcome," Janus muttered. "Next time we'll just leave you in the tree, then."

"I—you—" Virgil kicked at nothing in particular. "You're insufferable!"

"I try to be."

"And you're succeeding!" Virgil waved his hands at everything in particular. "Can't we fix this?"

"There's nothing to be fixed." Patton bit his lip. "Kiddo…sometimes we have to make sacrifices. That happens. And you can't feel guilty about it."

"Guilt?" Virgil almost laughed. "That's what you think this is?"

Patton frowned. "What is it, then?"

"I'm worried!" Virgil yelled. "Duh! I'm worried you'll get killed or hurt because of this—because of me!"

Janus raised a finger. "That sounds like guilt, actually."

"Well—" Virgil huffed. "Maybe a little bit. But mostly, I'm scared." His voice cracked and he collapsed to the ground, sitting with his knees tucked to his chest. "I'm scared for you guys."

Patton looked at Janus, who looked just as lost.

"We'll be fine," Patton chose to say.

"You don't know that." Virgil laughed bitterly. "Have you heard the stories? Nobody who makes a deal with a Faerie ends up fine."

"Well, nobody makes it through the Iron Woods, and we've been doing a pretty okay job of that!" Patton pressed a hand to his chest. "We're awesome! And we can do anything!"

"I think what Pat is trying to say," Janus said, "is that there's no use worrying about it now. Whatever happens, happens. For now, all we can do is continue through the Woods as normal. Trying to undo what happened will probably only make things exponentially worse."

"Right," Patton said. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it!"

Virgil didn't look fully convinced. But he uncurled just a bit, so that was progress.

"What happened?" he finally asked. "I'd like to know."

Patton looked over at Janus. "You're the good storyteller here."

"There isn't a story to tell," Janus said. "Virgil was trapped in the tree and Patton refused to leave without trying to help him. He sat on the Faerie's chair, everything glowed for a bit, the Faerie showed up and taunted us, Patton tried to give away his name but apparently he can't since he's part Fae, we both ended up trading things away for safe passage, everything was on fire for a second, and we dragged you back through a tunnel of thistles and fell asleep."

Virgil blinked a few times. "Yeah, um—that sounds like a story. That should be told."

Janus shrugged. "There isn't much to add."

"Well, there's a heck of a lot to explain." Virgil tapped his hands against his knee. "Okay. First. Patton, you sat on what."

"Her throne." Patton sucked in a breath. "It…seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Right," Virgil said. "Of course. Carry on. You said…what did you guys trade?"

Janus looked at Patton and Patton looked at Janus.

"My dreams," Patton finally said. "Not, like, aspiration kind of dreams. When-you-fall-asleep kind of dreams."

"Huh." Virgil looked almost relieved. "That's…not too bad."

"It's actually kind of good," Patton admitted. "I don't like my dreams very much."

Virgil frowned. "No?"

And Patton immediately realized that he'd been about to admit his nightmares. Which he'd carefully hidden from Virgil. Well, fiddlesticks.

"There seem to be no ill effects so far," Janus cut in, coming to Patton's rescue intentionally or unintentionally. "As for what I traded, I have no idea."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You don't know what you traded or you don't know if there will be any ill effects?"

"The latter."

"Then what did you trade?"

Janus shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing."

"Jan," Patton chided.

"It's nothing!" Janus said. "Let's move on!"

"Jan."

Janus sat on his hands and blew a bunch of air out of his mouth.

"I deserve to know," Virgil said, "since you basically sacrificed whatever-it-was for me."

"Fine." Janus rolled his eyes. "Ever heard of the tale of Forgotten Lovers?"

Virgil frowned. "Any relation to the tale of Lost Lovers?"

"What's that one about?"

"Girl gets lost, guy makes a deal with the Fae to get the girl again?"

Janus nodded. "I think so. They could be two different versions of the same story."

"Huh." Virgil chewed on his lip. "So. Why'd you bring that up?"

Janus' mouth worked for a few seconds before he finally spoke. "'When you need it most, your strength will fail you.'"

Virgil stared at him. "What are you—oh, come on."

"It was the first thing that came to mind!"

"That's, like, the worst deal you could possibly make!" Virgil was apparently back to wild anger. "I thought you were somewhat smart. Don't you know what happens to the guy in that story?"

"I know," Janus said, looking bored.

"He, like, turns evil and stabs his wife!" Virgil threw up his hands. "Seriously, snake? That's gonna bite you in the butt. Couldn't you have chosen anything else?"

"I know—" Janus paused. "Wait, he does what?"

"You know." When Janus didn't answer, Virgil continued. "He gets lured away into the Woods and his strength of will fails him and he turns evil, I think? Then he betrays everyone and kills his wife and drowns his newborn child." Virgil winced. "It's…not really a fun story. It's just another warning to keep away from the Fae and anyone associated with them."

Janus looked vaguely disturbed. "That is…not our version."

"What's your version, then?"

"He dies in ours." Janus shrugged. "He loses his strength during an important battle and gets stabbed. It's a lesson about not compromising your own strength and survival for anyone, not even someone you love."

Virgil winced. "Well, that's just depressing."

Patton frowned. "I've never heard either of those."

Virgil looked kind of guilty. "Yeah, you wouldn't have. Our moms—I—tried to avoid telling stories like that."

"'Cause they're gruesome?"

"Yeah." Virgil sucked in a breath and let it out. "And—you know, it's not very Fae-positive. The message kind of advocates burning all Fae and their ancestors at the stake."

"Got it," Patton said, feeling suddenly very awkward. "It's—it's neat that you both have those different stories. Which do you think is the real one?"

"They're folktales, Pat." Janus laughed. "I doubt either of them is anything close to real."

"Anyway." Virgil shrugged. "You're gonna die or turn evil, Jan. Well, I mean, you've already done the second one. But you know what I mean."

Janus watched Virgil carefully. "You don't seem very upset about the idea."

"Oh, trust me, I'm internally screaming." Virgil raised his hands and let them fall. "But you know what? You were stupid, we're all gonna die, let's move on. Anything else I should know?"

"I think that's it," Janus said.

Patton paused. "Um. I think—maybe?"

"What is it?" Janus asked.

"You know what it is!"

"I don't."

Patton gave him a significant look. "You know, what we learned."

Janus inclined his chin. "Fine, then, tell him."

Patton winced. "Can you?"

"You're the one who wants to tell him!"

"But I don't want to—actually—say it."

Virgil was looking more and more confused. He swiveled his head between Janus and Patton like he was watching a duel. Finally he said "You're not telling me something."

"Jan isn't telling you the something!"

Janus rolled his eyes and leaned back, hands on the path. "It doesn't matter to me. If you want him to know, tell him yourself."

Patton sighed and gathered his courage. "Um. So. You know the Faerie we met? She—turns out, she made this whole place."

"Really?" Virgil whistled. "That's impressive. Also explains how evil and malevolent it is."

"Yeah." Patton nodded. "Um. And—it's likely—I mean, it's possible—there's a good chance that we're—that she's my—you know—"

Virgil's eyes widened. "Oh."

"And Jan didn't tell you that," Patton said, deciding to turn on Janus because it got the attention off of him. "For some reason."

Janus raised one eyebrow. "You said it didn't matter."

"It doesn't matter!"

"Then why did you want to tell him?"

"Because!" Patton spluttered. "He deserves to know this stuff!"

"This stuff," Janus repeated, both eyebrows high in the air, "that doesn't matter."

"Yes!" Patton threw up his hands. "Look, I don't know, okay? I don't—I don't know."

Janus was silent. Patton curled up tighter on the ground, avoiding looking at Virgil and Janus, his eyes stinging.

"You're the one that said family is who you choose," Janus said.

Patton looked up.

"You're the one who tried to convince me that ancestry doesn't matter, and that family isn't family unless they treat you well and care about you." Janus huffed. "Sometimes you're a real hypocrite, Pat."

Patton found himself smiling, just a bit.

"And I have a feeling," Janus said, smiling back, "just a gut feeling that—bear with me here—someone who tries to kill you and your best friend isn't great family material."

"Yeah," Patton agreed. "Definitely not. Nobody hurts my best friends."

Janus gave him a little more smile, and Patton felt just a little bit better. His arms still ached and his chest still flared with foreign fire and his mind still buzzed with questions, but he felt a bit less like he might collapse and start sobbing at any given moment.

"We should get moving," Janus said, standing up. "Do you want to eat?"

"Sure," Virgil said, grabbing the nearest knapsack. He opened the flap and reached in.

Several dozen spiders exploded from the top, scurried their way down the side in a glittering black waterfall, and poured onto the path.

Patton screamed and jumped away. Virgil immediately dropped the knapsack. The spiders hurried in a little stream down the path and in-between two broken ladders. They disappeared into the forest.

"Well," Virgil finally said. "Looks like breakfast was canceled. And lunch. And dinner."

"It's all gone?" Janus asked.

"Yep." Virgil glanced at the other two knapsacks. "I assume those are, um, infested as well."

"What?" Patton squeaked, scrambling away from his knapsack. "Well, I'm not opening that! Ever!"

Janus sighed. "Give it here."

Patton kicked the knapsack towards him.

Janus grabbed the knapsack, walked over to the side of the path, and dumped it out. Spiders fell in several large clumps on the dirt. Patton held his breath until they had vanished into the shadows.

"Here," Janus said, picking up the few things left in the knapsack and handing it to Patton. "Spider-free."

"I'm not touching that," Patton said, "because spiders touched that."

Virgil frowned. "But spiders touched you."

Patton grinned and tried to keep his hands from shaking. "Don't remind me."

"There's not much in here anyway." Janus opened his own knapsack and let the spiders run off into the Woods. "I can carry your things if you'd like."

"Really?" Patton jumped up and hugged Janus around the waist. "Thank you!"

Janus jerked at the contact but didn't move away. "I…you're welcome. Now we should get moving—if we're not going to eat, it's best that we try and continue. If we make good time we could be at the chasm by evening."

Virgil's eyes widened. "The what now?"

"You'll see." Janus carefully escaped Patton's grasp and slung the knapsack over his back. "Come on."

Patton and Virgil rolled up their blankets and followed, leaving Patton's knapsack strewn on the ground behind them.

"I hope you feel alright," Janus said to Patton quietly as they began their walk down the path.

"Yeah, I—" Patton focused on the buzzing flare in his chest. "I feel…good. Kinda weird. But alright."

"Weird."

"Not a bad weird. Just like one of the fireflies got stuck inside of me."

Janus frowned a bit. "I don't feel like that."

"Huh."

"It could just be residual magic," Janus said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. "Maybe from when you sat on the throne, or just the deal in general. It'll probably fade with time."

"Right," Patton said.

It didn't feel residual. It felt like something was waking up or digging deeper or catching fire.

"Hurry up," Virgil said almost jovially from ahead of them. "Stop yapping and focus on the path—you're gonna need to watch your step. No more will o' the wisps, got it?"

Janus nodded, and so did Patton, and that was the end of their conversation.

The path ended that afternoon.

One second they were walking down the path as normal, trees bowing and swaying in the wind. The next, the trees around them dropped away, replaced by bare stone. The next, the path itself petered out into a few clumps of dirt on the rock.

Janus, Virgil, and Patton stood at the end of the path, looking over a chasm.

It was a few hundred feet wide. The edge was only ten feet away. Beyond that was a steep drop that bounced up on the other side, sheer and narrow like a knife had been dragged down the surface of the world. Bleached white stone crumbled at the edges. Patton was reminded of a layered cake with stiff sides and icing on top.

The icing was the thorns on the other side, dark and twisting and creating a wall or a cloud or a barrier. Beyond them the jagged gray peak of Dragon Mountain split the sky, tilting to the side and ending in a point sharper than a new pencil. It was unlike any mountain Patton had ever seen, and he wondered if it had been thrust up from the earth through magic, or was made of stone that the wind couldn't wear down.

"Wow," Virgil said. "Think you need any more security?"

"We're out." Janus didn't seem to have heard Virgil at all. He was almost smiling. "We made it out."

Patton turned around and stared at the Woods only a few steps away. The path coiled into the shadows and disappeared. The trees hung in the air. He'd almost expected…more. He'd expected some final challenge, for the Woods to reach out and grab them and tug them into the heart of the trees and bind them to the iron thrumming beneath their feet.

Well, best not to jinx it.

Patton took one careful step away. Then another. Then another, until he was almost teetering on the edge of the canyon. Dangerous, yes, but he wanted to get as far away from the Woods as possible.

"So," Virgil said, staring at the canyon and the thickets and the Mountain and the iron-gray sky. "What now?"

"There," Janus said, pointing down the canyon. There was a little strip of rock between the Woods and the empty space, a few dandelions growing in the cracks. A little ways down was a small rope bridge, nailed into the stone and swaying over the canyon.

"That does not look safe," Virgil said.

"Well, I'll make sure to choose the other bridge with safety nets and suspension cables." Janus rolled his eyes. "Oh wait."

"Come on, then!" Patton bounded forward and dashed along the edge of the canyon. He peeked into it as he ran. There was no sign of a bottom, just a vague pale mist and white marble-like cliffs.

When he reached the bridge, he stopped and waited for Virgil and Janus. They both took their time making it over. Patton probably shouldn't have ran, he realized—he was only feet from a very huge chasm. But he was just excited! He could feel the sun on his skin for the first time, and the air was fresh and boundless and no longer tainted with ozone and wet leaves. They were back in the open. They'd made it out.

"We did it," Patton whispered, turning to Janus and Virgil and giving them each a huge hug. Virgil hugged back. Janus didn't, but he also didn't pull away.

"We should get moving," Janus finally said with a pointed look. Patton stepped away sheepishly and turned back to the bridge.

"Now that I'm looking at it close up," Virgil said, frowning, "it's not as bad as I thought. It's way worse."

Patton had to agree. The bridge was narrow and made out of wooden slats with old rope holding them upright. The nails on the end were rusty, the slats were wet and broken in places, and it swayed in the wind over the cliff.

"I'm not sure about crossing that," Patton agreed. "When's the last time someone fixed it?"

"Never." Janus shrugged. "We don't want visitors. Why would we give them a bridge?"

"So where do you guys go?" Virgil asked. "Can we do that instead of braving the death-bridge of doom?"

Janus stared at Virgil for a long second. "We are dragons. We can fly."

"Oh." Virgil blinked a few times. "I—oh, yeah. My bad."

"You can't fly us over there, right?" Patton asked.

"No."

"Yeah. Figured." Patton shrugged and put on a smile. "We'll just have to—do our best, then."

"Great," Virgil said, staring at the bridge like it had personally killed his family.

"Go slow," Janus advised, stepping forward. "One person at a time, maybe? And watch your step."

He took another step forward, reaching for the side of the bridge.

A blast of wind ruffled Patton's hair.

Janus stumbled backwards.

Something was sitting in front of the bridge.

It was just a little bit bigger than a large dog, with furry paws tucked under its front and a long twitching tail. Two little fluffy wings flapped wildly at the air but didn't seem to do much of anything. Its face was a woman's, with a flat nose and little dots above the eyes and a stern mouth. Its eyes were a deep amber.

"A sphinx," Janus said. "Wonderful."

"Wonderful," the sphinx repeated in a husky voice. "A good word. Possibly used in an ironic sense."

"Is that bad?" Virgil inched backwards, hand on his crossbow. "Do we fight it?"

"Fight." The sphinx's back leg rose up and scratched at its ear. "Vague. Undefined. Could refer to either a physical or verbal altercation."

"It shouldn't be too bad." Janus waved a hand. "Sphinxes are mostly harmless. They're gatekeepers."

"Right! I remember the stories!" Patton smiled. "You know, they like to tell riddles!"

"Riddles," the sphinx agreed. "Synonyms include puzzles, tricks, and jokes. Joke—J is one of the rarest letters in the alphabet."

"Okay," Virgil said, looking a little less afraid and a little more confused. "So it's gonna tell us a riddle?"

"That's likely." Janus looked down at the sphinx, which was now reciting words that started with J. "If it ever gets around to it."

"Hey!" Patton waved his hand in front of the sphinx's face. "Um, it's nice to meet you! What's your name?"

The sphinx blinked once. "I am a sphinx. Uncertain why you ask for information you already possess."

"Oh, I meant—um—" Patton smiled. "I'm Patton! It's so cool to talk to you."

"I have never met a Patton." The sphinx tilted its head. "Are you part of the Lepidoptera family?"

"The what?"

"Butterflies," Virgil explained. He coughed and looked vaguely upset. "Um—Logan told me."

"Oh." Patton nodded. "I'm not a butterfly! I'm a human!"

"Human." The sphinx blinked again. "Humans are not permitted."

"I know," Janus said impatiently. "I know the rules, my family made them. I'm not human. Can I go across?"

"Dragon." The sphinx nodded. "Yes."

"Great. Can they come if they're with me?"

"Humans are not permitted."

Janus sighed and grabbed Patton's arm. "They're prisoners, then."

"Prisoners," the sphinx said. "Those who are kept in captivity against their will, usually as punishment for a crime."

"That's right," Janus agreed. "I've kidnapped both of these humans."

Patton nodded and tried to look kidnapped. Virgil just folded his arms.

"You could be a liar." The sphinx scratched its cheek. "Deception. I have been told to trust no one."

"But we told you that!" Janus groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "Please just let us cross."

"Humans are not—"

"I know!" Janus looked about three seconds from punting the sphinx off the cliff. "I am well aware, so please give me something constructive to work with!"

"I am under orders."

"Who gave you these orders anyway?"

The sphinx hummed to itself. "Large spiky woman. A Mara. Not a species of Lepidoptera."

"Mara," Janus repeated, his face doing an impressive display of simultaneous annoyance and disgust. "Of course it's Mara."

"Who's Mara?" Patton asked.

Janus' teeth skated over his bottom lip, almost too fast to notice. "She was in charge."

"Not anymore?"

"I'm not sure." Janus glanced up at the Mountain. "The hierarchy of power can change a great deal in a week."

"Whatever," Virgil said, stepping up to the sphinx. "Let us pass, okay? It's important."

"Important. Vague. Please elaborate."

"We're gonna—"

"Idea," Janus said mildly, cutting Virgil off. "Don't tell your plan to a creature that works for the dragons you're planning to visit."

"Please can we pass?" Patton tried, giving the sphinx his best puppy dog eyes. "It'd be so nice of you."

"Nice," the sphinx said. "Vague. Undefined. Please elaborate."

"This is ridiculous," Janus announced to no one in particular. "You can't sweet-talk a sphinx. They're viciously literal. Either we kill this thing—"

"Kill me," the sphinx said, blinking innocently, "and bridge rejects you."

"—or we appeal to its love for knowledge." Janus paused. "Sphinx, if you let us all pass, we'll tell you a new word?"

"Know all words," the sphinx countered. "And price already must be paid. Dragon may pass, pay price, see other side. Humans must go."

"I hate this," Virgil announced.

"Hey!" Patton said. "I think it's kind of cute! Frustrating, but cute!"

"Cute or not, we need it to let us pass." Janus bent down until he was on his knees, eye to eye with the sphinx. Yellow against amber. The sphinx stared curiously back.

"You were saying something about Mara earlier," he said slowly. "Do you know her well?"

"Know not." The sphinx shook its head rapidly. "Smart. Sphinxes smart. Stay out of way."

And Patton could see the moment Janus' eyes gleamed with the light of a plan. The moment his face shifted, and his frustrated grimace turned into a smirk.

"Aww," he said, "don't tell me you're scared of Mara."

The sphinx shook its head again. "Incorrect adjective. Wary. Cautious."

"All comes down to the same thing." Janus laughed a bit. It wasn't his real laugh, the one Patton always tried to hear, light and cheerful with a bit of a snort. This was a smug little chuckle that Patton knew well. Janus was messing with the sphinx.

Patton didn't know how he felt about that.

"Quite honestly, I don't blame you." Janus extended a hand and examined his fingernails as if he was bored with the conversation already. "She's a real force of nature, isn't she? You've heard what happens to those who don't follow orders, I'm sure." He waved his hands in a strange complex motion. Patton caught a smash of something against a wall, a plume of smoke, and a slice across his chest.

The sphinx didn't wince, but it muttered to itself "Danger. A situation in which there might be harm to oneself or others."

"That's right! You're smarter than you look!" Janus clapped his hands together, eyes shining with something unfamiliar. "Now, what do you think will happen to you if you disobey direct orders? It's a simple logic problem—a riddle, if you will. I know you love those."

"Am following orders," the sphinx protested.

"I suppose," Janus said languidly, "but you're overlooking the fact that I've brought two human captives. One of them is part Fae and the other—" Janus cast a disparaging look at Virgil. "Well, he's rather useless, but he's strong enough. There's a lot we can do with them, and I think if Mara were here, she'd agree."

Virgil gave Patton a wide-eyed look. Patton was probably returning it.

"Orders!" the sphinx insisted, but its shoulders were sinking. It was crouching away from Janus.

Janus didn't look guilty. He just smiled wider than ever.

"Your orders have been overruled." Janus waved a hand. "Don't test me again. Mara doesn't like it when opportunities are wasted." He opened his mouth and fangs poked out over the edge of his lip. "Neither do I."

"Threat," the sphinx muttered. "Threat, threat, threat."

"Yes, it is." Janus clapped sarcastically. "Good job. Now let us pass, or we'll find out just how flammable your fur is."

Patton flinched involuntarily. Janus looked up. For a second, the piercing look fell off his face, and his mouth opened a bit.

"Pass," the sphinx said. "Humans pass."

"Oh, thank heavens, we're done." Virgil tried to push past the sphinx. "C'mon, let's go already."

"Pay toll." The sphinx's eyes flashed amber. "Now."

"Okay? What's the toll?" Patton raised his hands placatingly. "We'll pay it, as long as it's not too weird or dangerous."

"It's probably a riddle." Janus rolled his eyes. "If it's the what-walks-on-four-legs one, I'm going to be disappointed."

"Not me," Virgil said. "I know the answer to that one. I don't want a really hard riddle that'll get us tossed into the void."

"No riddle." The sphinx sounded vaguely disappointed.

"Then what?" Patton asked, nervousness fluttering in his chest.

"Secret," the sphinx said.

"Secret?" Janus repeated.

"Secret. An idea or fact that is not meant to be known by others." The sphinx poked at a tuft of fur on its paw. "Tell secret, cross bridge."

"We each tell a secret?" Virgil shrugged. "I don't like tomatoes, then."

"That's not a secret," Patton said. "I knew that."

"Well, the snake didn't."

"I know now." Janus rolled his eyes. "And I have a feeling your secret tomato-loathing isn't what the sphinx is talking about."

"Big secret. Good secret." The sphinx nodded. "Tell the hole and cross bridge."

"Tell the hole?" Patton clapped his hands together. "Oh! You mean the canyon!"

"We whisper a secret into a random pit," Virgil muttered. "Not weird at all."

"I'll go first." Janus walked to the edge of the chasm until his toes scraped the air. He bent over and whispered something. Patton could almost make it out. It was clear and thick like molten honey, and it dripped its way into the chasm and disappeared.

The sphinx did a little shimmy. "Good secret! Nice secret. Humans go now."

Virgil nodded and shifted closer to the canyon. "I don't like tomatoes," he told the air.

"It's not a secret if we can hear it," Janus said, stepping away. "Also, that's still a terrible secret."

"I don't have a lot of secrets, okay?" Virgil groaned and turned back to the canyon. "I mean, I guess there's—"

His voice lowered and another secret dropped into the chasm. It was rough and earthy like a long-buried treasure.

"Secret," the sphinx said happily.

"My turn, I guess?" Patton scooted over to the edge. His stomach swayed as he looked down. He couldn't see a bottom. Just mist and carved-away rock and the whisper of winds far below.

A secret. A good secret. Something that nobody knew—not Janus, not Virgil, not Logan or Roman or Remus.

Patton leaned over as much as he could, hands grasping his side, staring into the depths of the canyon.

"I—" The words trembled on his lips. He tried to lower his voice even more until it was barely audible. He knew the mist would hear him anyway.

Patton breathed out and let the words fall out into the wind.

"I'm not a good person."

He watched them spiral into the mist, lengthen, and disappear—gossamer strings and cotton tufts, dandelion seeds easily blown apart.

"Secret," the sphinx said, nodding happily. "Thank! Pass now."

"Neat!" Patton forced a smile and turned away from the edge. "One at a time?"

"All together," the sphinx corrected.

"That can't be safe," Virgil said.

"Well, the sphinx has spoken." Janus shrugged. "I suppose all we can do now is cross."

Patton walked back over. They stood in front of the sphinx, who was looking more excited than Patton had ever seen it. He felt kind of good about that. Maybe his secret was good for more than weighing him down.

"Careful," the sphinx said.

"We will be," Virgil agreed.

"Careful," the sphinx repeated. "Secrets echo."

Patton glanced at Virgil and Janus to see if they understood that. They looked just as confused as he felt.

But they didn't get a chance to demand an explanation. There was another gust of wind and the sphinx was gone, leaving a little imprint in the stone. The bridge swung in front of them, empty and rotting and looking very, very unstable.

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

#leave no trace

6 notes · View notes