by Jada Fisher
By the Three, she was hoping that she could have at least a shred of luck and have it remain empty.
Telling herself to act relaxed, she continued her trek upwards. They met close to the top, the follower giving her a vague nod before continuing past.
Eist’s heart soared. She had made it through another hurdle. She just had—
Before she could take the final step, a massive bellow sounded from below, reverberating upwards until the entire stairway was shaking like a it was the middle of an earthquake.
It was an enraged sound, one so terrible that even Eist had to clap her hands over her ears. It rumbled through her head, vengeful and heated, growing and growing until she was sure that her eyes were going to burst from her head.
The world spun for a minute, overcome by the sound, then suddenly she was tumbling backwards as the entire stairwell rocked dangerously. She knew without a shadow of a doubt exactly who had made that sound and exactly why, and the terror from that was enough to overpower her natural alarm at hurtling down the stairwell.
She thankfully managed to lose her momentum, dragging her foot against the wall and grabbing at whatever she could with her hands. She was sure it also helped that she crashed into the man who had been going down the stairs, who had wedged himself in place with his long arms and legs.
The rumbling stopped, and Eist tried to scramble to her feet. Unfortunately, the guy was too fast for her, and politely offered her his hand to help her up.
It would be both rude and suspicious not to take it, so she allowed him to get her to her feet.
“You alright?” he asked, smiling kindly at her. She hated how these people were so nice on the outside. It made her think about how easy it was to fool people, or that far too many people who she thought were decent souls were actually far more corruptible than she ever guessed.
“Fine,” she answered tersely, going to turn around.
But he didn’t quite let go of her hand. “You don’t look familiar. Do I know you?”
“New recruit,” Eist tried to answer breezily. “Still figuring my way around.”
“Yeah, it can be a little winding down here, huh? Spent my first moon absolutely lost.”
Another opportunity. “You’re not kidding. Say, are you willing to lead me out to some fresh air? I swear, I haven’t seen sunlight in so long I think I might turn into a bat.”
“Hah! You do look pretty nocturnal. Here, I can show you at least part of the way. I was just going to grab some rations, as it were.”
She laughed too, because that was what a normal person would do, and they started to walk up the stairs. But they barely managed a few steps before another bellow followed the last, this one with less tremors and more words.
“FIND HER!”
Eist stiffened, barely able to stop herself from flinching away. The man continued on, though, and she had a flicker of hope.
“Huh, find her? Who could the Vessel be—” He hesitated, and Eist could feel his mind connecting all the dots. When he turned to look at her again, she struck.
He was taller than her, so it was a chop to his throat followed by a kick to his groin. She had no time to fight honorably, this was an escape. He doubled over, letting out a cry of pain, and Eist pushed him down the stairs.
She didn’t wait to see how long he tumbled. Spinning forward, she ran up the stairs, calling upon her endurance that had been her main advantage since she had joined the whole program. Sure, she didn’t have speed, but she would fight every person in her way and still have energy to run home.
Assuming they didn’t kill her.
She made it to the top of the stairs to find herself in what definitely looked like the upper area of what once had been the mining camp. There were plenty of rooms for different equipment, what looked like a kitchen area with a firepit, and several pully-lifts whose ropes reached high above her head and disappeared in the darkness.
Oh, and a group of three armed men running toward her.
That was less than ideal.
They were expecting her to turn her back and try to outrun them, so her best bet was to subvert that. Charging forward, she grabbed the shortest man’s shoulders and launched herself upward, wrapping her legs around his head and slamming both of her fists right into the top of his skull.
The other two jumped back, clearly not having expected her assault, and she used that window to roll forward across the ground, coming up under one and upper-cutting him right in the groin as well.
He fell back, cupping himself and crying out, but the third one had grown wise to her. He swung his weapon low, aiming for her leg. Right, he wanted to incapacitate, not kill her. Not even wound her grievously. She could use that too.
She jumped over his blow, throwing herself forward with all of her weight. Men, while typically stronger than women, had such a high center of balance that it was easy to barrel them over with her solid mass.
Just as she expected, they went toppling to the ground. She pinched his torso between her thighs, squeezing tightly enough that she could see his chest struggling to rise. Naturally, he swung at her with his spear, but she grabbed it, forcing it in a perpendicular line above his body.
The two of them struggled, and she had a feeling that he might normally be able to overpower her, but he was quickly losing strength as he went longer and longer without full lungs of air. But she could feel more footsteps coming up the stairs. She needed to accelerate things if she was going to get out.
Putting more force into her arms, she got the length of the spear over his throat. Lifting her body a bit, she put all of her weight down on the wooden pole, forcing it down, down, down, until it rested against his throat.
“Turn your head,” she snapped, teeth clicking by the man’s face as he kicked and struggled. “If you keep staring at me straight on, I’ll crush your throat outright. It’s your choice.”
She could hear the anger in her voice, and the seriousness of what she meant. Was she even a good person anymore? Good people didn’t go around murdering people, or threatening to, did they? And yet that was exactly what she was doing.
He fought her, he really did, but she just bore the pole lower and lower. They were in a game of seeing who relented first, him trying to call her bluff that she wouldn’t force the wood against the front of his throat and her very much adamant that she would escape, no matter the cost.
Thankfully, he relented at the last moment, turning his head to the side so that the weapon pressed against the veins already building at the side of his neck rather than the delicate column of the front. His kicks lasted only a few beats after that and he went still.
Eist bent forward, listening for the whistling breaths that by now were far too familiar. Sure enough, she heard the faintest of wheezes.
Good. He hadn’t forced her hand.
But the calls and steps were loud enough behind her that she could actually hear them, so she quickly stood, taking the spear with her. It wasn’t exactly her halberd, but it would do.
Weapon in hand, she sprinted forward, rushing toward the lifts. There were five of them in total, small and rickety wooden things that used a rope and pully system to get workers from the kingdom above down into the deeper mines. She would have to winch herself up and wouldn’t be able to fight at the same time.
Oh well. She just had to hope that once she was off the ground, she would have enough distance for no one to attack her outright.
She bolted into the closest one, grabbing the rope and pulling at it with both hands. The lift rose a few inches, but then she had to reach higher and do it again.
There was a reason there were usually two to three people on each of the things, working together, but she didn’t have that luxury. She pulled again, rising maybe two heads off the ground in total, when multiple people burst through the door.
At least ten of them. Eist picked up her pace, her arms burning, but she couldn’t stop. She pushed through, hauling herself higher.
But not nearly high enoug
h.
One of them jumped up, grabbing onto the bottom edge of the lift. Eist almost let the rope go, catching it at the last minute and the length burning lines into her skin.
Ow.
But she ignored the pain, wrapping the rope around her arm and hauling herself another head higher as she went to the edge of the lift.
Sure enough, there was a man hanging there, long and lanky. He reached up to grab her, but she just used the butt of her spear and slammed it right into his nose.
He recoiled on instinct, falling to the ground only a few feet below, and she took the chance to reach up and haul herself another small bit.
If her arms hurt before, her single one was absolutely screaming at her as she proceeded to haul herself higher. She felt like it was going to be ripped from its socket and she could feel herself being covered in sweat. At least she’d had that nice bath before all of this happened.
A cry sounded from close by, just on the edge of her senses, and she craned her neck to see that four of the attackers had gotten into the adjacent lift and were raising themselves much faster.
Because of course they were.
They caught up with her quickly, and one of them jumped over the edge of their lift and into hers. Eist pulled again with her wrapped arm, blood dripping down her hand and making it unfortunately slick, then swung the spear at him in a tight arc.
He dodged it, slipping under her stance and closing quarters. Eist bent backwards as he made a grab at her, losing just enough grip for the lift to freefall a bit back to the ground.
Once more, she barely caught it, letting out a cry as she was thoroughly rattled. Her arm was somewhere between an inferno of pain and numb, but it still wasn’t as bad as being shot by that poison arrow.
Her attacker started to get to his feet, so she kicked upwards, her boot connecting with his chin and sending him stumbling backwards. She followed up by rushing him and slamming both of her feet into his chest, sending him toppling over the edge and back to the ground.
Another moment to breathe, another moment to force herself to take the lift higher. She used both hands and managed to maybe get two rushed tugs before the remaining three made the leap from their lift to hers.
Their lift rapidly fell to the ground, slamming into the earth with a cracking sort of boom. The device seemed to have somehow remained in once piece—although it was certainly worse for wear—but Eist was sure that if it had been any higher it would be in pieces.
That didn’t bode well for her.
But still she pulled herself higher, managing another few inches before someone grabbed her from behind.
They were taller than her, and managed to yank her off her feet, but she just wrapped her legs around the post attached to the pully system and held on for dear life. Spear still in hand, she swung it behind her and managed to stab into the side of whoever was holding her.
A sharp cry sounded, and she quickly let go of the post, shifting her legs to press the bottom of both feet against it then push off with all of her might.
The two of them went tumbling backwards, with her hold on the rope keeping her from pitching over the side.
Using the length for balance, she managed to steady herself on the narrow lip of the lift and ran along its length, managing to catch one of her attackers in the face with her boot. Using his foot as a springboard, she then flung herself over to the last follower, a tall woman armed with a net and a club.
Eist landed on her back, getting in several good blows to the woman’s kidneys, suddenly very grateful for all of the work Dille had put in with her on grounded attacks—something people wouldn’t expect from a stocky woman of Eist’s size.
But the edge of her vision caught movement, and she saw even more followers piling into the fallen lift, rapidly reaching her. Although she was pumped up on furor and righteousness, Eist knew she probably couldn’t take on so many at once. She’d been spoiled by fighting mindless monsters for so long, and she didn’t have her magic at her beck and call.
She didn’t even have Fior.
That thought made her stomach twist, but she pushed past it. She had to fight to get back to him again. Hadn’t he done the same to get to her?
She guessed she had one choice then. The best defense was a good offense, or so she had heard.
Driving her elbow down into the woman’s head, Eist then yanked the lift up a little more, using that leverage to shimmy up to the top of the post and the mechanism that held the rope. It only took three solid kicks for it to let out a sickening creak, then the entire thing broke and crashed to the ground below.
But Eist didn’t follow it, her hold on the rope flung her into the air. The momentum of it all swung her forward, and she reached out to grab high on the rope of the next lift.
The followers below let out a myriad of sounds, starting to climb up after her, but she just whipped out her stolen paring knife and sawed as quickly as she could, the rope fraying quickly from the weight of all the followers on it. Before any of them could reach her, the whole thing snapped and yet another lift crashed to the ground.
Eist watched as it hit, and hit hard, all of the followers groaning or crying out in pain. It was difficult to feel sorry for them, all things considered, so she didn’t. She finally unwound her arm from the loop she had fixed it in and started shimmying up the rope.
She was close. She was so close.
There was a rhythm to her movement, a leg in rope, pulling herself higher, then wrapping her free leg then unbinding the first. It was cyclical, and it let her get lost in it, ignoring both her pain and fear.
But while she had been so focused on getting away from those on the ground, she had forgotten one vital thing.
There were also people above her.
Because of course there would be. There had to be at least some lookouts and supply runners up top, making sure no one got in or out who wasn’t supposed to. Bringing in the fresh things that Yacrist had spent so much time talking about.
Looking up, she saw them there, at least a dozen of them. When she got to the top, they would swarm her and there was no way she could take all of them on at once. What was she going to do?
Gritting her teeth, Eist told herself that was something she could worry about when she was up there. She still had her paring knife, and maybe she could wrench a weapon from another before she was overpowered.
She climbed higher, ignoring the noises and furor going on both above and below her, until she felt a strange sort of vibration through the rope. Breaking her concentration to look up once more, she saw that a woman was kneeling down and sawing through the very rope that Eist was holding.
What? No! The fall would kill her! There was no way Yacrist would allow that!
But then she looked down and saw that the followers were all gathered together, as if they were going to catch her.
Were they stupid!?
She was too heavy! Her momentum alone would snap their arms and send all of them to the ground. Surely, they—
Her panicked thoughts all went deadly silent as the woman’s blade bit through the rope and it snapped entirely, leaving her hanging in the air.
For a moment, it was almost peaceful, floating. Suspended above the earth like she was a dragon herself.
But then reality snapped back into place and she hurtled to the ground.
Was…was this really it? She was going to die splattered against the ground in the middle of a mine, surrounded by people she didn’t know? So much for all her delusions of grandeur.
Hair whipping around her face, Eist tried to come to terms with the fact that she was about to die. It made her struggle seem so silly, now, all of it brought to a halt just by too long of a fall. She had just wanted to get out and warn her friends. She supposed that she had been far too used to finding a way against the odds, no matter how terrible they were.
Well, there was an end to everything. She just never thought hers would—
She could feel the bounce-back of
air rushing up against her back and closed her eyes, wishing she was with her friends. But right before she could slam into the unforgiving ground, she suddenly stopped short.
Her whole body rattled, a cry ripping from her mouth as she felt muscles pop and tear. Nausea rocked through her, and once more, she was struck by that feeling of slick, oily darkness.
But she never slammed into the ground, never slipped over to the other side of the veil. Instead, her head cleared enough to realize she was being tilted so that she was on her feet, still supported by that strange magic.
It didn’t release her, didn’t give her time to support herself, because Yacrist was suddenly in front of her, his hand right between her collar bones as he pushed her backwards. She slid as easily as anything, unable to physically move herself from whatever was holding her body. She could feel the wall approaching, but instead of slamming into it, they went right through it.
If she had the ability to cry out in surprise, she would have. For several solid breaths, they were completely incased in stone but still moving, slipping through it like it was water, then suddenly, she was thrown out of the other side, slamming into a real wall.
The magic released her before impact, and Eist hit with force, her body protesting violently. It seemed her sudden stop before had definitely injured at least a few things, because multiple parts of her body were screaming in agony.
When her vision cleared, she realized she was on the ground. Limbs shaking, she tried to push herself up, only to realize she was back in her cell again.
No!
Was it all for nothing? All that work and fight just to end up right back where she started? Who knew if she would ever be able to get to that point again?
But then Yacrist was storming toward her, rage radiating from him. Her body tried to shrink back on instinct, but she was already pressed against the wall, as far away from him as she could physically be.
The manacle flew into his hand as he knelt. Eist tried to draw her leg up under herself, but he gripped her calf and yanked her entire body along the ground, allowing him to close the bond around her ankle. She let out a cry as her limb popped and her head slammed into the hard earth, but that just seemed to incite Yacrist more.
