Assassin’s Fate

It was hard to be calm with the slapping, panting struggle going on right beside me. Alaria begged, ‘Let go! There’s no room! Don’t pull me back! Ah!’

Reppin did not shriek. She gave a long moan that was suddenly quenched in a sound like pulled heavy stone dropped in from muck. Only Alaria’s panting broke the silence.

‘She was pulled back down into the stone.’ More a statement than a question from Dwalia. And with it, I recalled that she had dragged us into a Skill-pillar.

‘I had to! I had to push her away. There’s no more room! You said to leave her. It’s not my fault!’ Alaria sounded more defensive than sorry.

‘Be silent!’ Dwalia’s voice was still pinched with breathlessness. ‘I speak. Vindeliar, get off me!’

‘I am sorry. I am stuck here. Kerf pushed me onto you as he crawled up. I can’t budge. A stone presses down on me.’ He was on the edge of hysteria. ‘I am so sick. I cannot see! Am I blind? Lingstra Dwalia, am I blind?’

‘No. It is dark, you oaf. Don’t dare to vomit on me. You are crushing me. Give me room.’ I heard a struggle of shifting bodies.

Vindeliar whimpered, ‘There is no space for me to move. I am crushed, too.’

‘If you cannot be helpful, be still. Chalcedean?’ She was gasping for air. Vindeliar was not a small person and she was trapped beneath him. ‘Kerf?’

He giggled. It was a terrible sound coming from a man’s deep chest in the darkness.

‘Stop that! Dwalia, he’s touching me!’ Alaria was outraged and terrified.

Kerf giggled again and I felt him tug his arm from under me. He lifted it, giving me a tiny bit more room, and I surmised that he embraced Alaria against him. ‘Nice,’ he said in a throaty voice and I felt him lift his hips against her.

‘Stop,’ she begged him, but his reply was a throaty growl followed by a low chuckle. The muscles of his upper arm were pressed against me and I felt them tighten as he snugged Alaria closer to him. His breathing deepened. Beside me, he began a rhythmic shifting that shoved me solidly against the wall. Alaria began to weep.

‘Ignore him,’ Dwalia ordered her coldly.

‘He’s trying to rape me!’ She squeaked. ‘He’s—’

‘He doesn’t have enough room, so ignore him. He can’t get his own trousers down, let alone yours. Pretend he’s a little dog, infatuated with your leg.’ Was there a cruel satisfaction in Dwalia’s voice? Did she revel in Alaria’s humiliation? ‘We are trapped here and you are squawking about a man touching you. Scarcely a real danger.’

Alaria responded with a frightened keening that kept pace with Kerf’s thudding against her.

‘The girl, Bee. Did she come through? Is she alive?’ Dwalia demanded.

I kept my silence. I had wriggled my sore arm free, and although my injured shoulder protested, I was groping to discover the confines of our prison. Stone beneath me. To the left of me, Kerf’s body. To my right, a wall of stone as far as I could grope. When I reached up I could brush my fingertips against more stone. It was worked stone, smooth as a polished floor. I explored with my feet. More stone. Even if I’d been alone in this space, I could not have sat up. Where were we?

The tempo of the Chalcedean’s jerking was speeding up and with it his open-mouthed gasping.

‘Alaria, feel around. Did the girl come through?’

‘She … must … have. Oh! I dragged myself through by … holding on … to her.’ Alaria’s voice was going smaller and higher. The Chalcedean continued to heave himself about. ‘It’s disgusting!’ She wailed. ‘He’s mouthing my face. He stinks! Stop it!’ She shrieked but the Chalcedean began to grunt under her.

‘Can you feel her? Is she alive?’ Dwalia persisted.

I lay still. Despite Kerf’s passionate rocking, I felt her groping hand. I held my breath. She touched my face and then my chest.

‘She’s here. She’s not moving but her body is warm. Vindeliar! Make him stop this!’

‘I can’t. I’m sick. I’m so sick.’

‘Vindeliar, you’d best recall that I and only I give you your orders. Alaria, be silent!’

‘So many of them were in there,’ Vindeliar groaned. ‘They were all pulling at me. I’m so sick.’

‘Be sick silently!’ Dwalia snapped.

Alaria was gasping in horror. She did not speak again but I heard the small weeping sounds she made, and the deep groan of the Chalcedean when he finally reached some sort of satisfaction. She tried to wriggle away from him, but I felt his arm muscles tighten and knew he held her there. It was as well for me. I did not want her to roll off him and onto me.

‘Feel about, as much as you can,’ Dwalia commanded. ‘Can anyone feel an opening in this tomb?’

It was a poor choice of words. ‘Tomb,’ Vindeliar repeated and gave a trailing moan of despair.

‘Silence!’ she wheezed at him. ‘Feel about over your head. Is there any opening?’

I heard them moving in the darkness, heard the scraping brush of fingers against stone, the scuff of boots scraping more stone. I remained still.

‘Anything?’ Dwalia demanded of the darkness.