“Very comforting. I’m sure you’ll be fine, you know, since you’re not the vulnerable, helpless human. You go left and I’ll go right. We can meet back here in half an hour. We’ll decide then which path to follow.”
“Fine, just be careful.”
“I will. You be careful, too.”
Marshen went left, lantern in hand. I watched him until his flame appeared like a wandering glowfly. I went right, the immortal flame’s bright white light illuminating my way. The path was narrow, similar to a corridor, but there were no doors or entrances on its sides. Its walls were a rugged tapestry of mahogany waves that appeared to undulate as the flame reflected off their shimmering surface. I lifted my right hand above my head and was left in awe. Veins of shimmering quartz streaked the ceiling in no particular pattern, leaving a constellation of twinkling silver-and-rose-gold deposits. “Whoa,” I whispered to myself.
Walking with my eyes glued to the ceiling was not a good idea. It was not a good idea at all. I stumbled as my foot got stuck to the floor. I tried to push myself back, to regain my balance, but it seemed that both of my feet were lodged. I felt myself being drawn.Quicksand.
Oh, fuck me.
I tried to free my legs, but the more I squirmed and writhed, the faster I sank. The sand reached my knees. My skin prickled in panic. I shrugged and slumped my shoulders, letting go of my bag with the hopes of alleviating my weight.
“Marshen! Help!”
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared myself for the loudest and most desperate roar of my life. “Marshen!”
The sand had me up to my thighs. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What was I to do?
“Marshen!”
I moved the flame around me and I twisted side to side, trying to search for something that I could hopefully grab on to, but there was nothing hopeful in sight.
“Marshen!”
The sand reached my waist by the time I was done calling out his name. Then my heart leapt as I heard my own, faintly. Or was I imagining it?
“Marshen!”
The air turned thick and dry.
“Delia! I’m coming.”Oh, thank the gods.
“Please hurry, there’s quicksand, be careful. Quicksand!” I shouted again.
The sand reached below my breasts by the time I heard footsteps approaching. Marshen moved faster than the wind itself, and a shimmer of hope released into my stomach as I saw him leaping to the floor. He grabbed hold of me beneath my underarms.
“I got you,” he choked. Then he bellowed a deep grunt, trying to pull me out of the stubborn quicksand. I wouldn’t budge.
The sand around me felt like a traitorous trap—a soft weight, delicate and malleable, yet heavy as steel, impossible to push through. Our strained grunts and heavy struggles were to no avail.
“Reach into my shirt pockets,” I croaked.
“What? I’m not letting go of you.”
“Just reach into my pockets, take the box, take the coin. Then go find Aegir and bargain.”
“I’m not letting you go. I’m not letting you drown in—what did the poem say? A waveless sea of golden grain?”
His words sparked something within me.
“Marshen! You’re right. I knew it was a riddle.” I gasped. “When four become two. We need to bind our arms to make them two, and then the fall will be brave and not to the grave.”
“You mean we have to drown together? Now? After you just said that I was right.”
“Can’t you feel it? The air, it’s dry. We have to give in to it.”
“Are you sure? What if we just die there?”
