Thread of Frost

Ch. 6: I Let You Sleep in My Bed

"Cheese," Isaac said.

Tristan looked at him incredulously. "That's it? Cheese?"

He shifted. Damp hay crunched underneath him, accompanied by something that either could have been grout or rat bones. Water dripped from the rotting ceiling. He'd grown used to the smell of mould and faeces, but there was a new scent today. Something that smelled suspiciously like vomit.

Isaac shrugged, kicking his legs out. "You asked me what food I missed the most. That's the honest answer."

"What about a cucumber sandwich?" Tristan asked.

Isaac cocked his head. "I mean, I'd take that too, if it was going."

"Or a steak-and-ale pie."

Isaac pointed a finger. "Also fine."

"Or a truffled mushroom pasta." Tristan's stomach rumbled. "In a white wine sauce."

"Again," Isaac said, "much better than gruel and stale bread."

He hopped to his feet. Tristan leaned back, half-closing his eyes. He'd grown used to Isaac pacing his cell every few minutes, although he didn't know how the other boy had the energy; he could barely stand up without getting dizzy.

"But you'd still choose cheese," Tristan said. "Over all that."

Isaac considered this. "Yeah."

"Incredible." Something that wasn't quite fondness filled him. "Your lack of imagination continues to astound me, Webb."

There was a plaintive mewing sound. Shambles slinked into the cell, slipping between the bars like a white ghost; he butted his head against Tristan's hand. Isaac leaned against their adjoining bars, squinting at the cat suspiciously.

"D'you reckon he'll eat us?" Isaac asked. "Once we die?"

Weariness filled him. "I hope so. Beats Eris finding our bodies. Gods only knows what he'd do with them."

"Here, kitty." Isaac clicked his tongue, dangling his fingers through the bars. "Do you want a piece of bread?"

Shambles gave him an affronted look. Then the cat darted back through the bars, scampering down the corridor. Tristan frowned. "Did you need to scare away my cat? He's the only tolerable company down here."

Isaac ignored the jab. "Where would you go?"

"What?"

"You asked me what I'd eat if I was free." Isaac's grey eyes were bright in the darkness. "Now I'm asking you where you'd go."

"Right now?" Tristan pushed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, thinking. "Everblue. It's just off the Gongo Islands."

Isaac's eyebrows flew up. "You'd want to go on a beach holiday?"

"You sound surprised."

"No offense, Beauchamp," Isaac said, "but you strike me as the sort of person that likes to sit in dungeons and tinker with explosives."

Tristan stretched his arms. "Like a good bottle of wine, I am composed of many layers." He relaxed. "Where would you go, then?"

"Heartcairn." Isaac's response was immediate.

Tristan frowned. That was a village in Lucerna, wasn't it? He didn't know much about Heartcairn, except that it was small, isolated, and populated almost entirely by elderly people. Also, the weather was meant to be hideous. Odd choice for a holiday.

Then again, Tristan reasoned, Isaac had picked cheese as his food of choice. So perhaps he was expecting too much.

"I've never been," Tristan said.