I keep stalling and pushing my power out, casting a web to sense for anyone or anything around us, but I’m only met with a chilly sensation that wants to invade and burrow down to my bones.
There’s no light. The dark is so absolute, and it’s pretty fucking terrifying. The light at the mouth only offered so much before the walls pulled in and shut it out, and now I’m left fumbling through.
“Crimson?” I shout this time, but my voice dies, as if absorbed by the rock around us.
“Hey!” A gust of dusty breeze follows Crimson as she stops in front of me. “It’s just another dead-end. It’s like a maze in here,” she sighs.
“Why don’t we—” I lift her arm.
Crimson’s sharp intake of breath makes me freeze. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. You’re hurt. You need to rest.”
“We need to get out of here, Ten.” An edge of panic creeps into her voice.
“Let’s go back. Re-trace our steps. We don’t know what’s going to happen,” I offer the only optimism I can muster. I concentrate on her and sense a pulse of fear that’s so at odds with everything else about Crimson. She’s afraid of nothing.
Her footsteps are faint on the dirt as she walks past me, and I let her go, following a few paces behind.
After a few wrong turns, I finally see a sliver of light now it’s dusk, though the inky light is a welcome reprieve from the darkness we were searching in.
The silhouette of the guard outside is there. Vigilant. And out of reach.
“Hey, hey!” I march to the gate. “She needs a healer. Her wrist is broken.” But he doesn’t say anything. “Come on, you must have a healer. Plenty of Naturals were sent out to Estereah and beyond.”
“Plenty ofweakNaturals were sent out to Estereah and beyond. Tossed away and forgotten about,” he sneers back.
Okay. I wasn’t counting on an answer. “Are you a Natural?”
Nothing. Back to silence.
It’s there, at the tip of my fingers, just to reach out and get the answer to the question myself, to use my power and influence him to let us out. We are prisoners, shouldn’t I do everything in my power to fight?
The web of magic is getting easier to cast, even if it responds differently here. But I don’t pick up any sense of feeling or emotion from him. He’s a stone wall, like the walls of the mountain. If I weren’t staring at him, I’d have guessed there was nobody out there.
“A healer? Please?” I try again.
“Leave it, Ten. I won’t beg.”
“Are you going to feed us, or are we prisoners you intend to starve?” I shout as I wrap my hands around the bars. “Zuns!”
I turn back and see Crimson sitting with her legs crossed, leaning against the rough stone. Her eyes are closed, her arm resting in her lap.
“Ever?”Crimson might not beg, but I can’t sit and not do everything I can to help my friend. “Ever?”
“You’re back? Safe?”Her voice is faint inside my mind.
“We are. But Crimson needs a healer for her wrist.”
There’s a pause.“Is she okay?”
“She’s being brave.”
“I’m not sure I have much sway here. But I’ll ask in the morning.”
“Morning?”It’s not late, and I wonder what position she’s in back in the camp.
