I’m already shaking my head. My limbs nearly vibrate with pent up tension. My legs want to spring, but I wrestle my voice into annoyed resignation. “Just hold on.”
I take the torch and leave him in the dark as I retrace our steps, grabbing a few of the loose stones. When I return, he’s laid back on the ground, eyes closed, his hands laced behind his head. The torchlight illuminates him slowly at first, then all at once. His shirt is lifted, exposing the taut strip of skin just above the waist of his trousers.
“Enjoying yourself?”
I snap my attention away and move to the edge. When he sits up, I lift an arm and arc two of the stones into the void.
One. Two. Three. Four—
My eyes widen as Rune’s face twists with concern.
There’s a splash below. Faint.
“At least I know how to swim?” he says to my unimpressed look. The drop has to be at least a hundred feet.
Both our faces glisten with a sheen of sweat. “You were going to a watery grave—”
“There was a lip!”
“You would have taken a single step and fallen in.”
“Oh, Odi, I’m flattered you care—“
“With our onlytorch.”
He barks a laugh as he stands, but his eyes catch behind me in a way that has me spinning, dagger already drawn.
“What is it?”
“A ledge,” he says. “Horrible things really. I’m not sure your borrowed blade will be quite enough to save us.”
I ignore him, peering harder into the shadow. The light falls on a hint of narrow pathway barely cleaving to the wall. The light doesn’t reach the other side.
“We’d be walking blind.”
He breezes past me. “Let me go first. Once I find the other side I’ll come back for you.”
“I’m notwaiting,” I hiss. Waiting is an invitation for things more terrible than mere reality. In my minds eye, we’d both die a hundred deaths before he could cross, and a hundred more as he returned again, the constant threat of bitter, forgotten stone giving way beneath him propelling me into thoughts more horrifying than acid-tongued toad creatures that could be banished with a well-timed sword.
No greater beast than a man’s mind, and the fear that seeks to claim it.
The riddle’s warning all but says if terror lies in wait, we’re going the rightway. “Together, then.”
I pass him the torch, following close behind as he moves to the wall. His feet overlap the ledge as he stands with his back to the stone and begins to inch sideways. One misplaced step and we’ll be down. Maybe we’d survive the fall, if we hit the water right, but something tells me we’d be stuck treading in stagnant darkness until our bodies finally gave out. If we were lucky enough to not get eaten.
Once he’s an arm’s length down, I press into the damp-streaked stone. The animal inside me panics, finally overwhelmed by the dread of the tunnels, but caught fast in the trap of my human mind. There’s no time to do more than lock her down before she gets us killed. She quiets, muzzled, restrained by years of practice and the wall I’ve built between us.
We move, slowly, until the start of our path is swallowed by darkness, until nothingness surrounds us on all sides, the torch cocooning us in a bubble of light. The fear in me turns to deadly silence. Everything in me turns to silence. A sanctuary of unfeeling. This is where Nisse reigns. Where blood sprays warm on my face and intolerable weakness means a quick death.
Rocks tumble from under Rune’s feet, and we freeze, waiting to hear them fall. A couple seconds later, they shatter over stone. “Multiple levels, then,” he quips, as if both our muscles aren’t on fire with coiled energy. Sweat drips down my neck, into my eyes, the air so tight in my lungs Ifear I’ll be dizzy soon.
“Fascinating.”
For the first time since we started, he turns back to look at me, his lips pressed tight. “Watch your step here. It may be a stretch for you.” He lifts his long legs across the gap easily, but he’s right; I’ll have to leap. On the other side, he turns and points the torch towards where the ledge has crumbled away. Even the rock under his feet is cracked and tired.
“Back up,” I say, shooing him with a small wave of my hand. “This path isn’t meant for giants.”
“You think I'm giant, little doe?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s worried, trying to distract us both.
