by B. T. Narro
Leo’s vision blurred by the time he made it to the outskirts of the city and saw the cavern ahead. His chest was on fire as he struggled for breath. He had slowed considerably, staggering toward the entrance where two men in light armor seemed to be guarding it.
“What are you doing here?” asked one of them.
“My brother’s inside.” Leo wheezed. “He’s in trouble.”
“Where?”
“The Tisary,” Leo said.
They looked at one another and laughed.
One said, “And how exactly did your brother tell you he needed your help?”
No words came to mind.
“Please!” Leo pleaded. “He’s really in trouble!”
The two of them snickered.
◆◆◆
Andar had made good progress loosening the dirt in his narrow hole and stuffing it into the crevices in the stone that made up the walls. More than a week had passed, and although Andar had learned much about Artistry, Esitry, and summoned creatures, he had yet to see anything interesting.
Ascendants in training had come and gone, none making links that they at least cared to brag about. Summoners had left without once bringing their creatures through the rift. Andar didn’t know where the female summoner had gone after lunch today. The commander had told Andar that she was a soldier, so Andar figured she would’ve had all the time she needed to reach her creature, but apparently her time was up. There would most likely be a new summoner later today or tomorrow.
After lunch, Andar saw that that he would be in the Tisary alone for the first time since he’d begun working. He nervously spent an entire hour standing near the rift, trying to make links while having no idea how to do it.
Eventually, he considered himself lucky no one had come in to see him, and he got back to his work. He’d been using the same rope this whole time, but a fresh one was ready for him whenever he pleased. It was longer, though, too long to make his descent and ascent any easier. His current rope was at just the right length now that he’d dug so deep. A few more yards and it would be taut as he tried to break through to the next layer. That’s when he would switch it out. It would hold until then. He’d investigated it for any signs of tearing and found none.
The commander had not returned in a week. Another official of some kind had come to check on Andar’s progress, asking how deep the hole was now.
“You can go down and check,” Andar had said and held back his amusement when he watched the army man cautiously peer into the hole.
“I was told your word can be trusted,” the man had replied. “So there’s no need for that. How deep is it?”
Andar wasn’t too good with judging distances, but he’d given an answer as accurate as he could. “Probably about thirty yards.”
The man’s head had whipped back, a memory Andar liked to enjoy a few times throughout his difficult task. “That’s deep,” the man had said. “Anything to report yet?”
“A few other tunnels have appeared, but I’m not taking any except the one that goes straight down.”
Andar had encountered nothing else of interest except for one bug that seemed to have no eyes. It looked like a cockroach but it was pure white with long antennae. He watched it walk along one of the side walls of rock and eventually disappear into a crevice.
As he dug, alone in the Tisary, he hoped no one else would come until after he took his next break. He wanted more time in front of the rift, even if it had amounted to nothing so far.
But after a little while, he noticed something that came as a shock. His boots were starting to sink into the ground. The dirt here wasn’t muddy, but it was wetter than the layer above. He walked around to see if there was anywhere he could stand where he did not sink, but he couldn’t find a spot.
The walls of stone made the hole narrow here. He could touch opposite ends of rock if he stretched his arms all the way out. Testing the thirsty dirt in different places made it suck him down faster. He wondered if something below it was slipping down as well. Perhaps he just needed to dig a little and would come to a long opening. Maybe he’d even find the source of Artistry, as the commander had hoped.
But he’d begun to panic somewhat as he realized there was nothing to hold onto except his rope. Andar pulled himself up out of the dirt to see if it would sink without his weight, but it didn’t move. Part of him began to fear what would happen if the rope broke, realizing he could be stuck here, but the rope was strong. He’d climbed out many times before without it breaking.
Still, he felt the need to climb out and at least wait until someone else was in the Tisary with him before he dug into the sinking ground. Besides, this would be a good excuse to try to make links in front of the rift.
He had never been afraid climbing out of the hole. Even when he pulled very hard on the rope, pushing out from the stone with his feet so that the rope had to hold more than Andar’s full weight, he still felt secure. But at realizing now what kind of danger he would be in if it broke, he finally felt dread creeping over him.
Most of the climb was done by the strength of his arms. There were only a few places where he could apply upward pressure with his feet, so he usually used them to scamper along the rough stone as he went hand over hand all the way up.
The hardest part was a spot he’d progressed past many times before. It was closer to the top than it was the bottom, a place that now scared him to pass. The rope was the source of his fear. He suddenly no longer trusted it. The rope bent over the sharp curve of stone and seemed to stretch as Andar dangled. There was nowhere for his feet to touch.
As he pulled himself up completely by his upper body, he had a vivid image of the rope straining to hold him. It was as if he could picture the weakest spot at the rope, where the knot was made around the base of the pillar. He could picture all the pressure of the rope on that one spot, its fibers grinding and squishing against each other with enormous stress.
The rope no longer seemed to stretch or bend as he got over the ledge within the tunnel and finally had somewhere to put his feet. But it was here that he pulled even harder on the rope now as he put the soles of his boots firmly against the stone wall and used his usual method of climbing again, one hand over another, one vertical footstep at a time.
The rope was all he could think about—specifically that one spot at the knot. He could visualize it. No, not just that. He could feel some sort of connection to it, the way his mind could be overcome by a powerful memory. He pictured all the pressure on the rope on that one spot.
The rope snapped.
It might’ve been years since he’d felt true terror, but this moment broke something within him. He shrieked, pure panic seizing control as he toppled backward then started to fall straight down. He tried to grab hold of any of the crevices he knew to be there, but all were a blur.
Andar somehow fell feet first into the soft dirt at the bottom. He’d survived, but not without suffering scrapes everywhere on his body. His head rung loudly. One arm was partially numb. His back was tender. He struggled to sit up within the thirsty ground. It felt as if an animal was pulling him down by the base of his pants.
He managed to get to his feet, but his shins were already deep in the dirt. He lifted one out at a time, but whenever he managed to put the sole of one of his boots on the surface, the other boot had already sunk down to his shin again. He was glad the lamp was still down here. He still had the rope tied around his waist as well. The other end had broken and had fallen into his hole with him. Most of it had disappeared into the dirt.
He had to dance back and forth to keep pulling his legs out as he frantically pulled the rope out from the dirt. Soon he had all of it bundled in his arms. It was wet and as heavy as a small child. His breathing was ragged as he eventually found the broken end.
He stopped his dancing to bend his knees and then hurl the end of the rope as high as he could, hoping it would catch on something. It stopped somewhere too high for him to see, but it slid back d
own as soon as he pulled the slightest bit. He caught it before it disappeared into the dirt, then threw it as high as could again.
The rope didn’t come down. Again he pulled, but the rope would not hold any weight. It fell back down. The tunnel was in no way straight, and there were many crevices in the walls that the rope must’ve been falling into as it slid down toward him. But there was nothing within these crevices for it to catch on. It couldn’t even hold the weight of a small tug.
He tried once more, but it was the same result. Before he knew it, he had sunk far enough for the dirt to come up to his waist. He had to drop the rope to pull his legs out one by one. He shifted to get to the side, hoping to grab hold of the wall to stop himself from sinking. But there was nothing to hold onto. He tried the other side, but it was no good, either.
“Help!” he yelled. “Help, I’m stuck!”
No one was in the Tisary, he knew, but perhaps someone would come soon. There were other diggers within the cavern, but none had permission to enter the Tisary. If one of them heard him, though, they should help, shouldn’t they? It might be Andar’s only hope.
“Help! Help! I’m sinking quickly!”
Andar gathered the rope again. He tried many times to throw it high into the tunnel above him, screaming all the while. It always got stuck somewhere, possibly the same place every time, but it never stayed there when he started to pull on it.
He went on doing this for what might’ve been an entire hour. Already he was exhausted. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep himself from going under.
Then what would happen to him?
He couldn’t believe this. He just couldn’t believe it. He could very well die here, a horrible, terrifying death. But even worse, it was a death that could’ve been prevented.
Andar threw the rope again and again, soon losing track of how many times he did it without success. It was getting harder and harder to bundle the rope in his arms as he sank into the dirt, his strength dwindling.
But there was one time that the rope did not fall back down when he pulled on it.
“Skyfire and ash,” Andar muttered as he pulled hard enough to keep himself from sinking. It was an immense relief. He stayed there, tugging slightly, trying to regain his stamina. The broken end had clearly slid into another one of the crevices. But these were the crevices that he’d pushed dirt into while digging. He didn’t know what could be in there to keep the rope taut.
He screamed for help until his throat was raw. Then he kept on screaming.
“Help! Help! Help me!”
I’m going to die down here.
He was too scared to try climbing up the rope, knowing he was lucky it would hold just a little of his weight. But even without adding more weight, the rope soon came loose and fell hard onto his shoulders as he covered his head protectively.
Andar felt the familiar choking feeling of wanting to cry as he struggled once again to keep himself from sinking.
“Help!” he pleaded. “H-help.”
He sobbed.
He didn’t want to give up, but he wondered what else he could do. Andar couldn’t think straight, his mind as exhausted as his body. Was this really how his life would end?
Leo, he thought. Please help me. I’m going to die.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Leo had argued long enough with the guards to realize they wouldn’t let him by. They’d even laughed at his attempt to persuade them. They were fully grown men, tall as well, and Leo was too exhausted to run past them.
As he continued to catch his breath, he peered inside the cavern to see three lanterns within the entrance. Only one of them was lit. The rest of the cavern was as dark as night. He would need to outrun the guards, he realized.
The panic to help Andar had never left him. It made him grind his teeth in anger that these men were in his way. The feeling was akin to watching his brother drown and someone was stopping him from jumping in the water.
“Get going,” one of them said. “You’re not entering the cavern.”
“Fine,” Leo muttered.
Turning around and pretending he was calm was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He took a couple steps away from the cavern to ease the guards’ nerves, then he spun and sprinted between the two of them.
“Hey!” they yelled as they tried to grab him. One got ahold of his shirt, but Leo twisted away and kept on going. He grabbed the lantern and ran deeper into the cavern. They sounded to be close behind. He didn’t have time to look because the ground was slick and bumpy.
He heard one of them fall and curse. The other yelled, “Get back here, boy! You will be arrested if you don’t!”
Leo didn’t care about that. He just needed to get to Andar.
There were many side tunnels, but Leo didn’t feel the urgency to enter any of them. He knew his brother was far ahead. Andar’s panic had grown to the point of near defeat. There wasn’t much time left.
Leo could hear one of the guards catching up behind him as the other shouted from far behind.
“It’s too dark!”
“I’ve almost got him!” said a voice now so close behind that it sent prickles of dread down Leo’s back. He risked slipping to look over his shoulder. A hand reached out for him. Leo jumped to the side to avoid it, but the guard closed in on him. He grabbed Leo’s shirt firmly this time, then pulled him to a complete stop.
Leo squirmed frantically but couldn’t free himself.
“Stop, stop!” the guard demanded. He was too strong. “Stop struggling or I’ll have to hurt you!”
“Fine,” Leo said as he went still, realizing he wouldn’t escape if he kept fighting.
The guard had a firm grip on Leo’s shoulder as he turned him around and started to lead him back toward the entrance.
“What’s wrong with you?” the guard asked. “Do you want to be arrested?”
Leo held his head down as he regained his breath. He felt bad for what he had to do, but he couldn’t let another moment go by.
He punched the guard—a solider of the king, no doubt—square in his groin. The man cursed as he fell. He still managed to grab hold of Leo’s pant leg, groaning in pain and calling Leo horrible names.
Leo kicked back and forth until part of the worn material ripped off in the man’s grasp. Finally he was free.
As he darted farther into the cavern, Leo began to notice his surroundings. This was like a different world. It might’ve been interesting in another moment, but all he cared about now was finding the Tisary. Everything was unfamiliar, especially the waxy and colorful textures. Should he expect to find light when he reached the correct tunnel?
Something within him told him he would feel it when it was time. Exhausted, Leo slipped a few times in his hurry. He fell hard on his rear once, on his elbow another time. So long as he could still use his body, none of that mattered.
It felt more and more like Andar really was drowning and couldn’t keep himself afloat much longer. Finally Leo came to a tunnel that veered off to the side that seemed different than the rest, special somehow. Leo headed into it while feeling a surge of many things. He would reach his brother soon, but something else besides Andar was alive in here.
Soon Leo saw it—the rift. It called to Leo, expanding as if it were breathing. It held great power, and he might one day discover many things about his own abilities by standing near it, but now was not the time.
“Andar!” he screamed as he surveyed the scene. A single lamp rested in the center of the Tisary. A rope lay supple around the base of a wide pillar that nearly reached the spiked ceiling. It was broken. But there was another rope coiled nearby.
Leo found the hole and nearly fell inside as he slid to a stop.
“Andar, Andar!” he yelled.
“Leo, skyfire and ash!” Andar’s voice was strained as if weakened from screaming for so long. It hurt Leo’s heart to hear. “I’m stuck, and the dirt is wet! I’m sinking into it.”
“Hold on a little long
er!”
“There’s another rope.”
“I see it.” Leo had already turned around to go for it. He tied it around the base of the wide pillar, all the while announcing what he was doing. His fear was strong enough to make a whimper out of every other breath. Andar wasn’t replying, hopefully just to save his strength.
“I’m throwing the rope down,” Leo called as he dropped the other end into the hole. He pushed more and more rope into the hole. “Do you see it?”
“No. It’s probably falling into one of the crevices.” Andar paused. His voice was faint. “There are many.” He sounded so exhausted and so far away.
“I’m pulling the rope back and pushing it more,” Leo said.
No reply.
“Andar, Andar?”
“I still don’t see it. I don’t think it’s going to work.”
Leo pulled the rope back up to him. “Then I’m coming down!” He expected Andar to argue, to come up with some better idea, but he only said two words.
“Please hurry.”
That sent a deep terror into Leo’s bones that no amount of courage could overpower.
He hurried to tie the rope around his waist. Then Leo bundled up the rope so that it was tight, letting the extra slack hang down over his shoulder. He turned and climbed backward into the hole. He was not afraid of anything happening to him, only that he had no idea how he and Andar would get out of here together.
Leo had no gloves to stop his hands from burning as he slid down with a loose hold on the rope. He started to pick up too much speed so he gripped the rope tighter.
He hit his head on something. Leo was dazed as pain surged through his head. He must’ve leaned back too far and smacked it against the other side. After a brief stop to regain his senses, he started sliding down again with his hands feeling as if they might soon catch fire, his feet skittering along the side of the hole.
“I’m almost there,” he guessed.
“Be careful,” Andar said. He still sounded so far away.
Leo wanted to hurry, but he came to a place where there was nowhere for his feet to go. He could see nothing below. He might as well have been blind. He crawled backward over the side, unsure how far the drop was. He let himself down while holding onto the rope. Soon his feet found purchase and he could start sliding again.
