Daniel lurched forward, pulling his stiff arms close to his chest. His broken forearm cried with each movement, but he had to move. He couldnât get out if he couldnât move.
The room was pitch black again with Svel gone, but he remembered the layout. It was the only thing to remember. The pillar behind him, the weapon she dropped. His discarded bag, thrown to the left against one of the bigger walls in the rectangular room. The south wall, to his right, where the Crawlers had gone.
Weapon first, his freedom. He didnât move from where he sat, afraid that heâd grow disoriented in the dark. Instead, he reached back with his good arm, feeling around the floor. After a few blind slaps, his fingers brushed against a jagged point, pricking blood from his fingers. He flinched away, then sought it more carefully, grabbing it by its thicker base.
It was a rib, a human rib, sharpened to a point. Daniel from two days ago wanted to toss it away. Current-Daniel held it like a baby.
He leaned back against the pillar, sucking down the stale, still air of his prison. To his left and back a ways, his bag. To his right, the south wall. He crawled on three limbs, keeping his broken arm against his body.
Progress was slow and agonizing, but eventually his hand brushed against the wall. He felt along it piece-by-piece, until he found a strap of his backpack.
His stomach churned. He couldnât put the bag on his back. His injured arm wouldnât make it through the loop, and he worried the lopsided weight would disorient him more, make it impossible to navigate the room. He had to get to the right wall, the right part of the wall, or he would never get to the only passage that could save him.
Careful to avoid cutting himself, he pinned the rib between his legs, then extended one through a loop of the bag. He fished around for the straps, tightening the loop around his ankle as tight as it could, then tied a messy, blind knot. He wasnât sure if it would hold, but it was better than nothing.
He put the rib back in his right hand, and leaned his back against the wall. The south wall should be a straight shot, but he was too far to the side now. If he crawled straight, heâd reach a section of the wall that hadnât moved when the Crawlers left, and any brick that wasnât part of the trap may not be a brick.
He thought about trying his luck that way anyway, and crawling along the wall until he found the center of it. But the bricks were identical, and he would have nothing to orient himself. It would be a blind guess.
The pillar he had been bound to was his only hope. It wasnât in the center of the room, but it was lined up with one edge of the moving wall. If he was to the left of it, he was on the right track.
But there was more than one pillar in the room. A dozen, maybe, and his memory of the layout was shifting and tainted. What if he found the wrong pillar? What if he dug at the wrong section of wall?
He chewed on his lip, slouched against the wall, the creep of exhaustion a heavy blanket. His throat burned, pleading for water, and he swallowed, his tongue stiff and hard to move. His tongueâ¦
He started the slow crawl to where he thought he had first hit the back wall, his backpack dragging behind him. When he reached the point, he started the hunt for his pillar, using his good arm and the rib to make large sweeping motions, tapping against the floor.
Svelâs tongue.
She bit it off, it fell on his chest, then it must have rolled off him. It would be near his pillar. It should be near his pillar. He hoped it was near his pillar.
The rib touched something soft first, a deviation from the clicks against brick. His lip curled, but he reached out with his fingers to feel it, the wet, cold meat sickening against his skin.
He almost cried, never so happy to feel disgust in his life. A compulsive urge made him shove the meat into his pantsâ pocket, then he sought out his pillar next, finding it a few sweeps later.
Daniel steadied himself on the structure. His ankle was stiff from the pressure of dragging the bag, but it had to stay that way. It was working, he was going to get out.
Another breath, and he was on the move, heading for the south wall. He couldnât remember the layout of the other pillars, and his head thunked against two on the path over, but heâd worry about his brain later.
Finally, he reached the south wall. He didnât hesitate, just started digging with Svelâs rib.
It was stronger than his now-lost short blade. Stronger than Axenâs swords. It didnât chip against the brick, but carved through them like a hot knife through butter. It wasnât an efficient shape for a digging tool, but it worked.
He was getting through the wall.
Minutes later, a piece of stone fell through to the other side and a beam of light shone through. He stuck his damp face against it greedily, sucking in the light. He backed up and kept digging.
Once one piece had fallen away, bigger chunks caved easier. With more light to work by, he dug more efficiently, carving out a section that he could crawl through, and that he did.
He fell into the neighboring hallway, the floors not quite level, but he didnât feel the impact. Laughter shook his body, his smile so wide it hurt his cheeks.
There was no one on the other side, but there was light. Rocks, marked by Maylineâs runes. They were placed as far apart as they could be while still being in sight of the previous one. The Crawlers had left a bread crumb trail.
They hadnât stayed to save him, but they hadnât given up on him either.
He untied his bag, slugged it over his good shoulder, and staggered after the trail of lights.
----------------------------------------
The path was long, the bricks unrelenting, the glowing rocks further and further apart, and when Daniel finally heard voices, he thought at first they were in his head.
âYou canât open it then?â
âI donât know what else to try.â
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
âBack the fuck off man, try taking a crack at it with that thick fucking skull of yours.â
âDo not speak to my Lord in that manner.â
âGet fucking bent, heâs no lord of mine.â
The sound of skin on skin, a head-ringing slap, then the shuffle of bodies being heaved off of each other.
Daniel rounded the final corner, standing in the entrance of a room containing the Reborns, Axen, and the third and fourth splinter groups. Theo was standing in front of Kire, hands on his shoulders, steadying him with warnings, not comfort.
Both of his eyes were blackened and his nose out of place, older wounds accompanied by a fresh, swollen welt. Mayline was sucking in shuddering breaths, her chest heaving, her single hand a bright red match to Kireâs face.
Theo saw him first. âDaniel?â
Kire turned. âHoly shit.â
Axen didnât move. He was busy scrutinizing a grand half-circle door opposite of the new arrival. The surviving third splinter members found anywhere else to look, but one of the fourth splinter members, a tall man of lithe limbs, approached with a bag in hand.
Daniel sank to his knees, clutching the rib in one hand, holding his broken arm to his chest. Theo and the tall Crawler crouched beside him.
The Crawler grabbed his arm, fingers deft and practiced, but unable to avoid the pain of the wounded. Daniel eyes lowered, tense against the pain, teeth breaking the skin of his lips. âWater, please,â he croaked.
Theo obliged, grabbing a skin bag with a metal nozzle from the bag the Crawler carried. Daniel set the rib down and snatched the water, guzzling needily.
âHis head,â the Crawler said, and Theo grabbed a jar of ointment, setting to work as directed. She moved slow, her injured hand swollen and a deep purple color.
With Theo busy, the Crawler focused on the bent forearm. He pulled a thin red stick from his bag, then drew a thick circle around Danielâs hand, the substance chunky, crayon-like, and requiring multiple passes. The pressure hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain of the second circle, drawn as close to the elbow as possible, but still too close to the break.
Danielâs head swam, nausea creeping up his throat, clutching his stomach like a clawed hand in his gut. But when the second circle was complete, the sensation vanished. All sensation. He couldnât feel anything between the two circles drawn on his skin.
âOh, fuck, thank you,â he gasped, loving the Crawler in front of him more than anyone heâd ever met.
âYouâre welcome. Keep still.â The Crawler continued, pulling two long metal rods from his bag and rolls of stretchy cloth. He placed his hands on either side of Danielâs forearm then, in one swift motion, clicked the bone back into place.
Daniel gagged, wishing he had looked away, but relieved all he had to do was watch. The Crawler splinted the limb, bandaging tight. âI donât have a sling on me, youâre going to have to be careful. Keep your posture straight and your arm close, no extra weight on your shoulders, donât carry that bag,â he ordered, a soft authority earned through competence.
To Danielâs dismay, the Crawler then rubbed part of a single circle away, and the rush of pain returned, better than it had been by margins. The leader of the fourth splinter called the healer back over, and Daniel was left alone with Theo to judge the situation.
It was tense. Kire was a skulking shadow of resentment, lingering at the edges of the group, pacing and itching at his scales. Axen was attempting various methods of opening the door, instructing different tools be used, different pressure, different anything, each command issued growing in agitation.
Daniel looked at Theo, so tired he might well sleep just as he was. âThey left me to die. You left me to die.â
Theoâs single eyebrow twisted in pain, sweat drenching her eyepatch and slicking the tight curls of her hair. âWe did. I couldnât get the wall open and we couldnât waste more time,â she answered.
Waste of time.
âAnd,â Kire added, slinking behind Theo once he heard them talking. âWeâre expendable.â
Daniel stared down at his hands. He couldnât muster up an objection, an argument for his value. He was deflated.
âWhat is that?â Theo asked, pointing to the rib Daniel had set down, but looking at his abdomen, recognizing the bone if not its origin.
âA⦠gift. From my patron,â he mumbled.
Kire snorted. âYou asked your god for a rib?â
âNo, itâs what she gave me to escape.â
âYour god helped you? Just like that?â Theo pressed. âYou still haveâ¦?â
Her voice trailed off and she looked over her shoulder at the Crawlers. They were largely disinterested in the Reborns, but the sharp eyes of the fourth splinter leader, a long-faced woman with longer braids, watched over them.
âWhat is that?â Daniel asked, peering around Theo to look at the half-circle door. It was stretched twice as tall as any person in the room and split down the middle. It lacked many crevices and even less space in those crevices, to Axenâs ire.
âOur objective,â Kire said, dropping into a squat to get a better look at the rib. âHow did that get you outâ¦?â
He reached a gloved hand towards the bone and Danielâs blood curdled in protest.
NO. DONâT.
Daniel snatched the bone from the ground, pressing it to his chest. Kireâs hand retreated just as quick, alarm widening his bruised eyes.
âSorry, sorry. I just⦠I dug out. I dug out with it,â Daniel answered, fingers curled around the rib to protect it, even as its pointed edge pricked one.
Theo and Kire exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing in tense faces. Before either could say anything, the fourth splinter leader approached.
âYou got through wall. You can get through door. Open door,â she ordered, her command of the Common language simpler than Axenâs but efficient. Her words drew the attention of the other leaders, and soon all eyes were on Daniel again.
Theo helped him to his feet, taking his bag and pulling it over her back. It fit awkward against the bag she already had strapped across her chest, but she moved unencumbered by the weight, walking with him to the massive archway.
Daniel wasnât sure if he actually could get through the door, wasnât sure of the consequences of failing, but once he pressed the rib into the door, it was as if a pressurized seal popped. The door sagged, and two Crawlers on either side of him pushed the massive curved stones inward.
The other side was perfect darkness, and Axenâs commands picked up again.
âFour lit arrows, torches with each group, Moolio, here.â
A third splinter member approached Axen, and he pulled out one of Kireâs scales. Sheep and bat, Daniel recalled.
The four arrows Axen ordered soared through the room, shot from Crawlers stationed just outside the door, their golden runes revealing a massive cavern that they didnât reach the end of. The floor was covered in hundreds, maybe thousands, of small black pools.
Axen pressed one of the scales into Moolioâs slender hand. âCheck for deviations in terrain â cliffs or crevices â and any exits. If anything moves, get back here.â
The thin woman grasped the scale, then plunged it into her hand. In a puff of a sparkling blue smoke, she vanished, replaced by the small velvety form of a bat. She took off to complete her mission.
The two remaining splinter leaders perched on either side of the door with team members behind, torches in hand, ready for Axenâs command. He drew his remaining sword, relit by Maylineâs runes, and marched forward, Crawlers in tow, Mayline only steps behind.
Kire, Theo, and Daniel were the last to enter, no instructions given to them, but also not prevented from entering. Kire held a torch and Theo a glowing rock. Daniel walked between them.
The room beyond the door was rocky, its ground course and jagged, unlike the rest of the dungeon. The black pools revealed nothing upon closer inspection, the liquid shallower than an inch, the color undeviating.
Moolio returned from her mission, dropping from the air back into a human form next to Axen. She spoke in the sharp language of rolled Râs and fast phrases. Kire translated in a low breath.
âNo other exits located, no notable alterations in landscape, puddles of unknown substance numbered in the thousands, sarcophagus forty paces ahead. No surrounding walls, any traps likely to be beneath the ground.â
The teams progressed towards the only point of interest, Reborns lagging behind and stopped steps later when Theo paused to lean down.
âDo you guys see that?â she asked, closer to the liquid than Daniel would like.
âNo,â Kire said, looking between Theo and the leading Crawlers, trying not to miss a piece of information. Daniel squinted at the pool, its surface glossy and undisturbed.
Theo stared into the pool. The light was too dim to read her face, sweat obscuring what could have been tears. âThatâs my home,â she whispered. âMy first rebirth. Hitheâs in there, I can feel him.â
Both men were silent. Daniel rested a hand on her back, above his bag, but she didnât react.
âTheo, we need to move,â Daniel urged, but she shook her head.
âGo on, Iâll catch up.â
Kire sighed and passed his torch to Daniel, who in turn had to shove the rib into his pocket, the bone squelching against the tongue he had forgotten was there. He took the flame while Kire crouched down next to Theo, watching her stare into something no one else could see.
Daniel moved towards the Crawlers. Slow, but fortunately they had stopped moving to begin the inspection of the sarcophagus.
It was plain by every metric, functional in its tight corners, smooth surface, and single step leading up to its lid. A thin dip along its edge created a lip that Axen ran his fingers along. No one dared to exhale as he pushed the lid off.
The room didnât collapse, rotate, explode, or otherwise fall into chaos. The circle of Crawlers tightened, each craning for a better look at what was inside.
But the best view was had by Svel, who stood a few feet above the group, as if on an invisible platform. Her long chains dangled down, but never quite touched anyone. A deep displeasure wrinkled her ashy nose.
Daniel crept forward, leaning up on to his toes to get a look at what was taking its final rest.
A heart lay alone in the shallow tomb, pulsing and beating with growing irregularity.