I walk to the wall and look up. It’s not completely vertical. It slants away from me and it’s possible that if I could find the footholds I might be able to climb it. I search closely and begin my ascent.

“You can do it! You can do it!” The demon yells as she bounces. She also has pom-poms, like a cheerleader.

Where the hell did she get those? Are they even real?

I pull myself onto the wall, slowly sliding between one outcropping and the next. Now is when I wish I spent more time at a climbing gym. Or any climbing gym really, or even any actual climbing. I used to tell people I was allergic to physical activity. In hindsight that may not have been the wisest thing to do.

I slip.

Son of a bitch.

“Careful,” the demon calls, more teasingly than with genuine concern though.

Thanks so much.

I try again, and slip once more. Worse than the last time even. If this keeps up I’m gonna fall back on my ass, or worse, on my back. Then I’ll be stuck here forever, and paralyzed to boot.

Sweet.

I slide back down and the demon stops shaking the pom poms.

“Giving up so fast?” she asks. “You just started.”

“What’s your name?” I ask, this time I’m the one ignoring her question.

“What?” she says, and I think it’s the first time I’ve seen her on the back foot, like she’s genuinely surprised by something said.

I turn back to the wall, acting casual and looking for another route to the tunnel. “You know, what should I call you? In my head I refer to you as ‘demon’ but you don’t like that, right? You said you’re not one, or at least not anymore.”

She pauses, even looks nervous. Which makes me nervous.

She’s hiding something.

“So you don’t like names?” I try again.

“Oh what’s in a name?” she asks coyly.

“Well, I guess I could call you Fred, then. That was the name of high school gym teacher. He was this big, sloppy fat man, but that didn’t stop him from forcing to run laps around the room every day.”

The demon blanches and I smile a bit.

All is vanity. As long as we’re quoting great literature.

“Spirit,” the demon says. “Call me spirit. Cause that’s what I am after all.”

“I see,” I say thoughtfully.

It’s like me telling everyone to just call me ‘human’.

I put my hand against the wall, ready to try another climb. Then, as I shine my rays upward, I see the dot.

High above me, moving slowly but surely, is a gray dot shimmering down the wall. It’s distant and small. Like a spec in the horizon, or a dot in the sky. But it’s there nonetheless.

“What is that?” I mumble.

The demon, or spirit (have to remember that), doesn’t say anything but I think the lips twitch. It’s hardly perceptible but they tick downwards.

Meanwhile the dot continues its movement. I’m enthralled by its progress or lack thereof as sometimes it has to move horizontally before it can continue its descent. As it gets closer I can see the fur.

It can’t be…

I stand there, jaw dropped, as the animal slowly works its way down until, eventually, the beast stands before me.

“Hello,” says Eeyore.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I gawk. “Hello? Eeyore, you’re amazing. How did you do that?”

“Very slowly,” replies the donkey. “Sorry it took so long. I’m not as spry as I used to be.”

I rush forward and throw my arms around the donkey. “Took so long? Eeyore, you depressed, neurotic, animal. I’m thrilled to see you. And that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh,” says Eeyore. “Well, as long as you’re happy about it. I was afraid when I saw you fall down here. Thought we mighta lost you…”

“And you came all the down to find out…somehow.”

Eeyore blushes, like a girl who’s just had her first kiss. “Well, I’m just glad all those years as a pack animal were worth something. Up until now I figured all that time hauling packs through he mountains in the dark was punishment by the Maker for my many sins.”

I laugh despite the donkey’s seriousness and turn to the spirit to see her reaction. But she’s gone….

Interesting.

“Eeyore, do you know?” I start, then stop, suddenly afraid of the answer.

“You’re afraid about the orcs aren’t you?” Eeyore asks. “I don’t blame you. They frighten me too. Surprised they haven’t killed me already actually.”

“Yes, but what about the goblins? Did they kill all the goblins?”

Eeyore shakes his head, and swishes his tail, a faint glimmer of happiness making its way unto his face – as if arising unbidden from some long spark buried under the ashes of sadness.

“So the goblins survived?” I ask gleefully. “We won?”

“I believe the technical term was that we repelled the assault,” says Eeyore. “Though I’m only a donkey. So I may have misunderstood.”

Repelled the assault. That’s good. But it doesn’t sound like complete victory.

“So the army, our army, what are they doing now?”

“They are pursuing the orcs, I believe. Or were when I left.” Eeyore hangs his head again. “There are a lot of dead, Sir Ethan.”

I believe it. And there is still the dragon. I look up again and shine my rays toward the tunnel.

“Did you have a plan for getting out of here, Eeyore?”

The donkey sighs. “No. I’m afraid not. I’ve failed you again, I guess.”

I shake my head, more impressed with the donkey than ever.

He came down here not even knowing if he’d survive himself.

“Can you carry me?” I ask the donkey.

Eeyore shakes his head. “The climb is too long. I don’t think we’d reach the top.”

That I believe.

“Not to the top,” I say. “Just to that tunnel there.” I shine my rays at the location.

The donkey mumbles. “Hmm. I should be able to. Though I can’t promise anything. Given these old bones.”

I give the donkey another hug. “Eeyore I trust your bones even more than my own. Let’s give it a shot, buddy.”

The donkey smiles, faintly, and lowers himself so it’s even easier for me to latch onto his mangy back. He stands carefully, wobbles for an instant and then starts walking to the wall.

Then I see the magic happen.

“Hold-on,” he says.

The donkey rears back, like Dauntless would, and then slams his hooves into the wall. The blow is strong he actually creates his own divots in the stone. He then pulls himself up, keeping his body close to the wall, like a human wood.

No Earth donkey could handle this.

Eeyore has more strength and ingenuity than any other donkey I’ve seen as he controls and pulls his body higher, with me on his back no less. I feel like some sort of teddy bears strapped across her mothers back. I want to cheer and whelp, urging my companion higher. But I don’t want to distract him. I can feel muscles strain and hear the labored breathing.

Once Eeyore slips and he growns. His hooves are like little spikes, which let him cut in the rock about us and also secure himself into crack and crevices that already exist in the stone. But I’m a lot of weight and it’s hard keeping his balance.

“Come on, buddy,” I whisper to him. “You can do it.”

And do it Eeyore does. With a final push he reaches the tunnel and I jump onto the ledge at it’s lip. Without my weight Eeyore quickly follows me and together we bask in our seemingly small, but critical success.

“I’m so glad to be out of that pit,” I tell my floppy eared friend.

“Yes,” says Eeyore. “I admit I’m somewhat surprised I made it. I thought for sure I’d stumble and doom us all to death.”

I slap the donkey on his rump. “You can’t fool me, Eeyore. You’re thrilled to be alive.”

The donkey snorts, or perhaps laughs, I can’t really tell. “I admit it is better than the alternative.”

“That’s for sure.”

I stand and shine my light ahead of us. The tunnel extends before me and I think the path slants upward, which is absolutely thrilling.

“How do you know this will take us back? Asks Eeyore. “What if it just leads us in the wrong direction?”

It’s a fair question. I really don’t know to even answer it.

Should I tell Eeyore about the artist formerly known as ‘demon’?

That’s really the only hope I have. That she’s not leading me astray. That this path will take me where I need to go. But I can’t just say that. Maybe I’m embarrassed, maybe I’m scared Eeyore will leave me. I don’t know but I just can’t bring myself to tell him.

“Eeyore,” I say. “It’s a better option than waiting in the pit to die.”

And aint nobody gonna argue with that.