Kaleb and List decided fairly quickly that they needed to get out of the canyon. The problem was trying to figure out how. Kaleb's bottomless bag ironically was only making things more frustrating. They had Kaleb's crossbow and grappling bolts, but the longest rope on any of them wouldn't have gotten them a third of the way up the cliffside.
Between all of the ropes and bolts in his bag, and List's powers, they managed to work out a basic set of climbing tools that would let them anchor themselves as the climbed, which seemed promising right up until it came time to confront two hurdles they'd ignored while devising the system: Kaleb's broken bones, and List's somewhat embarrassing lack of physical strength.
They experimented with tying Kaleb to List's back so she could climb for the both of them, but not only did this leave Kaleb's ribs in constant pain, List could barely walk while carrying Kaleb, let alone pull herself up a canyon wall.
So they adjusted their strategy and improvised gear, leashing themselves together but with enough slack between them that Kaleb, in theory, could support himself while List created a path for him to follow by jamming crossbolts into the rock. He would have to support himself with one leg and one arm, and List would still have to pull him upward in places, but it was technically doable.
They got as far as halfway through a ten-foot practice climb with that strategy before Kaleb's foot slipped off his crossbolt foothold, his handhold slipped out of the wall, and they both fell—mercifully not hard enough to break Kaleb any worse. They concluded it was an absolutely terrible idea.
Kaleb proposed that List climb out on her own to try and bring back help, a suggestion List only barely entertained until a giant frog with six eyes and three tongues emerged from the river to try and eat them, after which she flat out refused.
They took a break as the afternoon waned and the sun disappeared over the edge of the canyon overhead. It was still daylight, but with the sun hidden, it got colder quickly, and List's priorities shifted from escape to keeping warm. She cleaned their bandages again, losing more of them in the process, and now most of her shallower cuts were exposed to the air, a source of constant stinging pain. The only spots of relief were where the frog had snared her, as those were still numb from whatever poison coated its tongues.
They sat by a hastily assembled fire, eating dried provisions from the bottomless bag. That, at least, they had plenty of. Which was a relief, since the sword spider's corpse had been taken by the frog, and List wasn't eager to try eating the length of tongue she'd had to slice off to escape.
"If you really won't go—" Kaleb said, and List stopped chewing to cut him off.
"I won't."
"I know," Kaleb said. "But if you won't, then I think our only option might just be waiting."
"To die?"
"No, not—enziri heal faster than normal humans," Kaleb said. "It'll probably still take me a month or two to get back to normal, but I should be able to move on my own in a week or two. We can try climbing out then, or even just walking the canyon looking for an easier way out."
"Do we have have enough food for that? Or enough firewood?" List asked. There was only so much brush on their embankment, and even if the bag was bottomless, its supplies weren't.
"I figured we could just start eating the monsters that come to kill us," Kaleb said. "Firewood…we should probably start rationing."
List shrugged. "It's better than my plan of waiting for something with wings to try to eat us and climbing on its back."
"That was your plan?"
"It was a work in progress."
He laughed, and immediately flinched. "Okay," he admitted. "It might be closer to two or three weeks."
"And this moving on your own in two weeks, is that with or without pain?" List asked.
"I can handle pain."
"Of course you can."
List shook her head, but eyed the campfire. If they really were going to have to make their firewood last, they were going to need some other way to stay warm. And until something large and furry came along to try to kill them, she could only really think of one way to do that.
"Hold still, I want to try something," List said, and scooted toward Kaleb. As an afterthought, she added, "Tell me if it hurts, though."
Kaleb dutifully stiffened, but watched her with a wary look. With a broken arm, his jacket was already draped over his shoulders rather than being properly worn, and with a bit of careful effort, List was able to slink underneath it as well. A bit more shuffling, and she had her body partially flush against his, hopefully in a way that wouldn't upset his ribs.
Then, she closed her eyes, and after a few seconds of focus, her tattoos began to glow red, and little trails of red chaotic energy began to dance across her skin. As they did, they arced off of her and onto Kaleb wherever they touched, and where it did, a tingling sensation spread. It felt closer to pins and needles than the heat of a fire, but after a few seconds, Kaleb was certain it did have a warming effect.
List opened her eyes, and they were giving off the same glow as her tattoos. Not as bright as they shone in a fight, but still casting her face in a slight red tinge.
"Well darling, is it as good for you as it is me?" she joked.
"It's warmer," Kaleb confirmed. "Thank you."
"It's basically the same trick as setting things on fire, just gentler," List said. "How are the ribs?"
"Fine. Just—don't move."
List suspected they probably hurt at least a little, and Kaleb just wasn't saying anything. But if he thought he could handle it, she wouldn't call him out for it. "I'll do my best."
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"How long can you keep this up?" Kaleb asked.
"Definitely not all day, but I'm sure I've got a few hours in me."
Kaleb's eyes traced over List, alternately watching the little bolts of red lightning playing across their skin and reading the names in List's arm. She followed his gaze, down to one name in particular. Norman Okomoto. The name that was now crossed out.
Kaleb had seen it happen, been standing right next to her when it did. On his face now, she could tell he was curious. And whether it was because he'd saved her life, because he'd opened up to her about his past, or simply because they were currently pressed against each other sharing his jacket like an ill-shaped blanket, she didn't feel the normal instinctive urge to hide her secrets.
"I woke up in the woods two years ago with no memories," she whispered. "Or, well, I guess it was three years ago now. I couldn't remember anything. No home, no name. There was just this list on my arm. Sometimes, things just come to me. I remembered how to talk on my own. How to fight. Some basic tricks with the magic. But never any real memories."
They were both quiet for a long time after that, the quiet sizzle of List's power and the flow of the river the only sounds. On some level, they both understood that even though List's story wasn't half as heavy as Kaleb's, her sharing it was different than Kaleb's. Kaleb was, fundamentally, an open book. He didn't have secrets so much as things no one had asked him about yet. It had meant a lot to him that List wanted to know about him.
List kept secrets. She played things close to her chest, and she abhorred sharing, or anything that might be construed as vulnerability. But she was sharing with him anyway.
"When did you meet Valerie and Arden?" he asked.
"Six months ago," List said. She glared, and amended. "Year and six months. Fucking stone prison."
"So, before that . . ."
"I was alone."
And there, in the break in her voice, was another admission. How much the separation from Valerie and Arden had rattled her. How afraid she was to be alone again, after getting a taste of family.
“I’m sorry.”
The words came out like a promise from Kaleb. An assurance that he understood what it meant that she was showing him this side of her, and that he wouldn’t make her regret it.
It must have had some effect, because when her eyes met his, they shone with something entirely separate from the soft glow of her powers.
“Thanks.”
At once, they both became aware of how close their faces were. List looked at Kaleb, and Kaleb at her. List's head tilted slightly to the side. Kaleb's eyes widened in horror, and he shoved her away with his good arm.
"List, run!"
List, who had been in a completely different headspace a moment ago, processed the sudden shift in Kaleb too slowly. By the time it sank in that it wasn't a rejection, but a warning, it was too late.
The first elite landed as if they'd dropped out of the sky, only meters away from them. The stone cracked beneath their boots, and it didn't look like they'd done anything to break their fall. But only a moment later, they rose to their feet, and leveled a halberd.
List scrambled to her feet, her dagger was in her hand in a flash of light. The chaotic energy already crackling across her skin surged to full strength, and she became a blood red beacon in the shadows of the canyon. She stood in a protective stance, putting herself between Kaleb and the elite.
But then the next one arrived, rappelling down the side of the cliff on a rope made of an ink black liquid. This one landed behind List and Kaleb, pincering them with the first.
Then two more rappelled down, taking up positions between the outsiders and the entrance of their cave. The ones who'd rappelled instead of just jumping had swords, but all of the weapons pointed at List sizzled with energy along their edges.
List repositioned herself so that any of the elites who tried to reach Kaleb would have to go through her, and her head swung back and forth as she tried to keep eyes on all four of the enemies at once. List's grip on her weapon was white knuckled, and she braced herself for the end she knew was coming.
But instead of attacking, the elite with the halberd spoke into their gauntlet. "Silver Team to Agnizzar. Two targets located in the canyon."
"Learn from this, soldier," the voice of the Axe of the Chosen came from the elite's gauntlet in answer. "Never let gravity decide a matter when steel can provide."
List had never heard wiser words in her life. Before Agnizzar's voice was halfway through saying, "Kill them," List pounced.
Her dagger became a blade of pure red, chaos streaking off her entire body in a trail, and she blurred toward the elite with the halberd. He stabbed, List dodged without slowing, and her dagger passed through the soldier's neck as if it wasn't there.
Blood gushed, splattering List's face as she shoved the corpse aside with one hand, and snatched its weapon out of the air with the other. Her power spread through the halberd even as her dagger disappeared in a flash, and she whirled to swing in a wide arc, intercepting the swords that were coming for her even now.
One slash still caught her on the arm, but the pain was a distant thing, happening to someone else. List spun the halberd in her hands as if it were weightless, turning the head into a constantly moving blur of red death until the three remaining elites took a step back. She widened her stance, and more distant pain flared up and down her leg. The bandage on her thigh began to turn crimson.
She ignored it, meeting the helmeted gaze of three of the Chosen's elites with a feral grin and their comrade's blood streaming down her face.
"Come on!" she snarled. "Who's next?!"
Apparently, they all were.
List fought the elites three to one, surviving only by a combination of reach advantage and wild ferocity, as she slashed, jabbed, spun, and thrust. She used every part of the weapon, stabbing at one elite with the head before using the butt to shove back another. She blocked with the haft, spun her whole body to slash in a circle.
She was going to die. But she'd die fighting. And she wouldn't die alone.
She swung low at one elite's legs, which they easily leapt over. But she kept the swing going, spinning with it to attack a second elite behind her. When they blocked, she jabbed the butt of the halberd backward, striking her original target in the chest. They staggered, and she swung her halberd backward without turning around.
She felt it when her weapon cleaved into armor and stuck. The move bought her a kill. It cost her her guard, and before she could pull the halberd free, there was a sword in her stomach.
"Demon bitch!" the elite who'd stabbed her spat. He withdrew his weapon and backhanded her hard enough to make her vision flash white.
When List could see again, she lying on the ground. The elite was standing over her, sword held high. He was saying something, but his voice was far away, and everything was drowned out by a ringing in her ears.
She looked over to Kaleb, who was on his back as well, screaming as the other elite slammed a boot down on his chest. Anger flared in her chest, and she tried to get up. To help him. Her body didn't respond. She thought to herself that if she had to choose between watching Kaleb die, or meeting her own death in the eyes, she'd pick the second, but moving her head was proving difficult.
So, she had a clear view when a crossbolt bathed in black fire pierced the elite from behind, and they staggered away from Kaleb, writhing in pain. Two more bolts followed the first, and when the elite fell over, there were black flames pouring out of every seam in their armor.
A spark of hope flitted through List's chest as she finally found the strength to turn her head, and it died immediately, replaced by utter dread. Standing over her, a knife through the neck of the elite that had been about to kill her, was Xigbar. He had just saved her life.
List almost wished she'd died.