I thought back to all the notes I’d taken regarding every creature in Uttira. Journals filled with pages of information on trolls and druids and incubi. Less on griffins. Far more on mermaids.
Could my follower be one of the species I’d been fortunate enough to never have encountered?
A minotaur maybe? My uncle had never mentioned them having magic, though. Only brute strength. And horns. I recalled his smooth skull when he had still been safely chained to the wall. He hadn’t sported any horns. So, not a minotaur.
He had to be a giant or a druid. He’d looked the part, had magic, and didn’t seem overly driven to hurt me. However, I knew better than to presume. Guessing could mean my death if I was wrong, so I needed solid proof to determine which creature he might be.
Druids used spells that required runes and ingredients. A frost giant simply used the magic born in its blood. The creature trailing in my wake had cast two spells on me now. One to change my clothes, and one to change my hair. My gut told me there’d been no time for sigils or materials for either spell. But again, I couldn’t assume. I needed to witness it.
The sudden hint of visibility ahead warned me that another creature was coming. I paused and repeated what I’d previously done but more calmly. With my forehead pressed to the wall and my eyes on my toes, I watched and waited.
The one approaching paused long before reaching us while the reanimated man continued pacing back and forth, his feet scraping the stone.
Rasp, rasp, rasp.
Mumble, mumble, mumble.
I wished one of them would do something to break the standoff then immediately regretted the thought. The standoff, while a waste of time, was safe. And safety was the goal until I could find a way out.
“Calm. Serene. What misery will the storm that follows unleash?” he muttered to himself, his shackles rattling.
“You help?” a low, rumbling voice called from down the hall.
The reanimated man’s mutterings about treasure and skin and pain and games increased in speed. If the creature down the hall was asking for help, I highly doubted the one behind me was in a state of mind to provide it.
As if reading my thoughts, the one down the hall asked, “I help you?”
That brought crazy-man’s pacing to an abrupt halt. He made that aggrieved sound in the back of his throat again. The shackles rattled at the same time, and I pictured him running his hands through his hair in frustration.
“There is no help for me,” he said. “Only endless suffering.”
The thing down the hall heaved a large sigh.
“Yes,” it said. “We all suffer.”
That comment antagonized the crazy-man. He returned to his pacing and muttering with a vengeance.
“Pain is better than nothing at all. Suffering is better than this silence. I hate the silence. One word. A curse. I beg you. Let me suffer. I’ve wanted for so long. There is no end. What game do we play now? Game and suffering. Game and suffering. Let me suffer. I beg you. Let me suffer.”
The creature down the hall sighed again and moved away, taking his light with him.
Before it fully faded, I followed, keeping my eyes carefully downcast. Whatever it was moved quickly, and I had to jog to keep up. Crazy-man didn’t jog. He slowly fell behind.
As much as having him near freaked me out, I wasn’t sure if leaving him was smart, either. He’d kept the others at bay twice now. Yet, I knew not to trust anything any creature did or said. Perceived acts of kindness were merely devices to lower a human’s guard.
So, I kept up with the fading light and followed the bigger creature through the endless curving hall even after the crazy-guy’s muttering faded. The light jog was creating a cramp in my side by the time the light abruptly cut in half, leaving only a soft glow in one spot ahead.
I rushed forward and paused, confused, at the entrance of a new hall. The curved walls and circular stairs I’d seen so far had given me the impression that this was some kind of enormous tower. Enormous, because it felt like we’d been walking forever and I hadn’t noticed the opening to the staircase again. However, this intersecting hall curved off in the opposite direction. Did that mean there were two towers side by side? Surely, Uncle Tram would have mentioned the existence of seven story twin towers in a town that couldn’t even manage a public library. Wouldn’t he?
Rather than stay lost in the darkness, I followed the dying light and struggled to keep my breathing and pulse steady.
An elusive breeze teased my hair, carrying with it the scent of freshly baked bread and cooking meat. My stomach rumbled, and I frowned at the indication of how long I’d been wandering around in the dark.
The scent of food grew stronger, and with it, so did the light.
My steps slowed at the sound that teased my ears. Indistinct white noise in varying volumes. It reminded me of the river that ran through Uttira. But what would running water like that be doing in a building?
I crept forward until the hall disappeared and opened into a cavernous room set with tables.
