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And then the lights go out.
ChapterEighteen
“Dugald?”I yell, blindly reaching for anything solid.
I know the edge of the stairs isn’t far and I’m disoriented by the dark.
“Here,” he answers.
“Keep talking,” I say.
“This way, Quinn,” he says.
I hold my hand in front of my face, or I think I do, but I can’t see it. This isn’t dark, this is pitch-black nothing. It’s an unreal sensation, making it impossible to place myself anywhere. But I’m acutely aware that somewhere, unseen, is a very long drop. Keeping my hand stretched out I follow the sound of his voice as he continues guiding me forward.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Dugald says. “This must be a reaction to what you did.”
“Great,” I mutter.
Another mistake but I can’t let that weigh on me. It won’t do any good.
“Here, I’ve got you,” Dugald says as our hands meet at last.
He pulls me close and then I’m at the wall and press my back against it. A dim echo of screams reaches our ears and my stomach clenches. It’s Duncan and he’s still being tortured.
“This is perfect,” I say.
“Not the choice of words I would use,” Dugald says.
“I’m being sarcastic.”
“Oh. I see.”
“No, you don’t,” I say, then I wonder. “Do you?”
“No,” he says, understanding my question. “Even the light of my sword is extinguished.”
I close my eyes, as if it makes a difference, and try to think of a solution. Nothing comes to mind.
“What do we do now?”
“I don’t know.”
“We can keep going, if we keep ourselves pressed against the wall, we should be fine.”
“Dangerous,” Dugald says, “and slow.”
“But possible.”
“Yes, possible, but so are many things.”
“Do you have a better idea?” I snap.
He doesn’t answer for a moment and if not for the sound of his breathing I’d have to wonder if he was gone.
“No, I don’t,” he says, at last.
