Fresh out of the mind fog, Rali grabbed Faris by the hand and led the procession up the stairs at a bounding sprint. “Come on, bucko! Lift those knees or she’s going to plow right over us.”
Behind her, Oralia heard a rumbling crack as the lower portion of the stone steps broke away and fell into the rift below, bouncing against the sides until the clatter was swallowed by distance altogether. She didn’t dare look back to see how much of the staircase was still intact. She kept her gaze straight forward and her concentration focused on lifting her feet high enough not to catch on the uneven steps as she hurtled upward. Rasp hung slack over her shoulder. His body was unnaturally hot, causing her to perspire more than the situation already demanded. Still, she would take a little sweat over kicking and screaming, and was relieved she did not have to make the death-defying escape with Rasp’s running commentary in her ear.
With the exception of a few dislodged boulders and the occasional shattered step, the rest of the climb went quickly. It wasn’t until they turned the corner, where the doorway to the surface should have been, that death mocked them.
“Shit,” Rali panted as she slowed to a halt.
“What?” Faris whipped his shaggy head from side to side, attempting, unsuccessfully, to see what they were seeing. His nostrils flared in and out as he tested the air. “What is it? I can smell fresh air. We’re close, aren’t we?”
“Well, technically, yes,” the dwarf said grimly. “Unfortunately, the doorway is about thirty feet above us. This part of the stairwell must have collapsed during the cave-in.”
“The lower stairs gave out just after we crossed.” Oralia sucked in lungfuls of dusty cavern air between ragged sentences. Her legs felt like thick jelly and the inside of her chest burned. Speaking only exacerbated the hot, smoldering sensation within her lungs, but she persisted in the unlikely event Rali or Faris panicked and tried to turn back. “We cannot go back the way we came.”
“Take a breather, boss. I’ll see if I can find us an alternate way out.”
Unable to muster a verbal reply, Oralia merely nodded, watching as her lieutenant carefully picked her way across what remained of the damaged stairwell. Tapped for the foreseeable future, Oralia supposed it was as good of a time as any to lose the dead weight hanging from her shoulders. She bent and arranged Rasp onto the steps, ensuring any sudden movement wouldn’t send him careening back down them. Finished, she stood straight and flexed her aching shoulder blades until they popped.
Her gaze moved out across the gloomy destruction. The steps ended a few feet from where they stood, butting up against a mound of broken rubble, which stretched for ten yards or so before hitting a solid rock wall. Above them, a small length of the original staircase was still intact. It jutted out over the destruction like a tantalizing prize, just out of reach. Even if by some miracle they could access it, the exit beyond was blocked. Oralia could see small shafts of sunlight filtering in between the cracks from the other side.
Rali returned from her search a short while later, delivering the grim report Oralia had already reached on her own. “We can’t go up and we can’t go back down. Looks like we’re stuck here for the meantime.”
Faris stood beside Oralia, wringing his hands. He had his head tilted upward at the ceiling. “The exit’s just on the other side, isn’t it?”
“What used to be the exit is just up yonder, yes,” Rali replied grimly. “Doesn’t appear to have held during all the shaking, though. Even if by some miracle we were able to get up there, we’d have to tunnel our way out.”
“My point is, everyone who did get through is just on the other side, right? Wouldn’t the logical thing be to call for help? Let them handle the tunneling part, maybe?” Before either Rali or Oralia could explain why this plan was less than ideal, Faris cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Help! Can anybody h—”
Rali lunged forward and clamped her hands securely over his mouth, muffling the scream. “Not a good idea, bucko,” she hissed. She tilted her head, scanning the surrounding walls for any signs of disturbance. The crumbling passage, fortunately, appeared unaffected by Faris’s distress call. “No loud noises from here on out. The vibrations of your voice are liable to trigger a second collapse. Let’s avoid making Rali a dwarf pancake, alright?”
“But . . .” Faris pushed her hands away as his mind raced to come up with a viable solution. “But . . . but how do we . . .”
Oralia examined the nearest wall as she stretched her legs. The sides of the stairwell were smooth and shot straight up. Her sharp eyes scoured the stone siding for crags or footholds and found none. Even with the proper equipment, the walls would be near impossible to climb. “We wait and hope someone on the other side of the doorway is working to dig us out.”
“Oh my gods.” Faris sank down, pulling his knees to his chest. “We’re dead. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”
“Chin up, Faris. We’ve got an ace up our sleeve, remember?” Rali’s feet clomped lightly against the stone, echoing from one end of the cavern to the next as she moved to Rasp’s side. With some effort, the dwarf sat him against the wall and jabbed her forefinger into his chest. “Hey, you, bucko. Nap time’s over. How’s about you rebuild the steps or try lifting us to that platform up yonder, yeah?”
Rasp’s eyes flickered open briefly before his entire body slumped back onto the steps like the world’s most dramatic puddle.
Rali was having none of it. With stubborn determination, she seized him by the wrists and clapped his palms together. “Come on, spark. Don’t just sit there. Do something.”
Curling his upper lip, Rasp awarded her a faceful of spit for her efforts.
“Leave him be, Rali.” Oralia grimaced as she kneaded the stiffness from her arms. The likelihood of someone coming to their rescue before the water reached them was slim. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more limber for whatever obstacle awaited them next. She severely hoped it didn’t involve swimming. “He has overextended himself. Upset him now and he is liable to bring the rest of the cavern down on top of us.”
Magic was a give and take. Every time a witch accessed their power, there was a letdown period immediately after. The severity of the crash depended on the amount of energy expended. In Rasp’s case, it was a small wonder the boy was still breathing. Not only had he held the pass aloft, but his magic had extended beyond the cave, lifting the boulders along the cliffside into the air as well. It was an amateur mistake, exerting one’s power beyond the area of focus, but that didn’t make it any less impressive. Oralia had seen more practiced witches drop dead from less.
It was a shame his survival instincts were still holding strong. A sudden death from overexertion would have been a mercy compared to drowning. From below, accentuated by the cavernous quiet, the steady sounds of gushing water crept ever closer.
Dread hung thick in the air like a swarming cloud of gnats over a swamp. Without light, Oralia was forced to rely on the encroaching waterline to gauge time’s passing. It had been too long, she feared, watching the dark, lapping line as it climbed steadily higher. Help would not be coming. They would have heard something by now if it were.
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The others seemed to sense their impending doom as well. They sat arranged along the upper steps, waiting in silence for the flood to claim them.
Rasp stirred below. Having spent most of their stay drifting in and out of consciousness, he was finally coming around on his own. The man’s lips curled into a grimace as he explored the area around him with his fingertips. “. . . Where am I?”
Faris’s head was buried in his arms. He didn’t bother to lift it, offering only a grim reply. “Dead.”
“If that were true, you and I would not be in the same place.”
“The cave-in collapsed the exit. We are trapped in what used to be the upper stairwell,” Oralia answered, knowing he wasn’t going to get much of an answer from the other two.
“Oh, you’re here.” Rasp frowned. “I guess this is the bad place.”
Oralia resisted the urge to kick him. “I just carried your carcass up half a mile of stairs.”
“And I held up a cave-in long enough for your people to get through. I think that makes us even.”
“A cave-in you triggered!” She froze, realizing she’d said that louder than she’d meant to. Her voice echoed along the cavernous stone walls, growing fainter in the distance before the eerie quiet returned. Oralia released her bated breath, relieved that the splintered ceiling had remained in place above them.
Faris lifted his head from his trembling arms, mouth flared into a snarl as he glared in Rasp’s general direction. “Speaking of which, I’m still mad at you for that by the way. I knew you were planning to ditch us, but would it have killed you to have pulled me aside for an actual goodbye? And not just an ‘I hate you, Faris, name the dog after me?’ Shameful!”
“What?” Oralia’s brow furrowed at his heated admission
Faris, realizing this was perhaps the wrong thing to say in her presence, shrank back down, stammering, “I mean, how dare you. I had no idea whatsoever. Bad Rasp.”
Of course Faris knew Rasp had been planning to attempt something stupid.
Not the time, Oralia decided. If she was going to die in the next hour, she wanted to do it with the least amount of bickering possible. Preferably no bickering at all. Was it too much to ask to simply drown in peace?
“Look, I didn’t know about the swamplanders, alright? That wasn’t part of the plan. I tried to hold the pass long enough for all of you to get through.” Rasp seemed to be directing this at Faris and possibly Rali, as Oralia doubted he truly cared what happened to her. “I didn’t mean for you to get stuck down here with me.”
Faris narrowed his eyes, which naturally had no effect as Rasp had no way of knowing. “You knew you were going to get stuck, didn’t you? You were practically begging us to leave you.”
“It was either you or me. I chose you. I can’t help it that you three were stupid enough to try and pull me out afterward!”
“Stupid?” Rali balled her hand into a tight fist and drew back for maximum impact. “Oh, that’s it. I’m going to cave your face in, you ungrateful shit!”
“Ralizak, no.” Oralia reached out and caught her lieutenant by the wrist. She suspected it was an empty threat, but the extent of Rali’s recklessness had a funny way of surprising her. The last thing they needed was for the boy to accidentally finish what he had started. “Hitting him solves nothing.”
Rali wrenched free, massaging her hand as she grumbled, “That’s not true. It would definitely make me feel better. Who knows, maybe the little pervert would enjoy it as much as I would.”
A glare from Oralia was all that was necessary to convince her lieutenant to drop the subject. Rali crossed her stubby arms with a harrumph. “Can’t fault me for trying to make it a little more exciting, you know. This isn’t how I pictured it.”
“Pictured what?”
“Dying,” Rali said. “I always imagined it would happen in battle. Blades swinging, blood gushing, the stuff they sing songs about. One moment I’m on my feet, and the next, everything’s growing fuzzy as my friends gather around me, telling me it’s not my time yet. Suddenly, the warm and fuzzies set in and, as the world goes dark for the final time, the last words I hear are how great I am. How no one will ever be the same without me.”
Her graphic imagery must have stirred something back to life in Faris. He shook his head at her, both ears flicking in irritation. “Who in their right mind pictures their death? Much less like that?”
Wordlessly, Rasp raised his hand.
“It’s not that unheard of, bucko. Some of us just prefer to go out with flair is all.” Rali’s gaze traveled the damaged stairwell as she spoke, eliciting a silent shudder that worked down her shoulders. “Not in some quiet, dark tomb underground where no one can hear you.”
Faris glared up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Unfortunately, some of us can still hear you.”
Dread must have been getting to her, because Rali refused to give in to the silence. Whether the others appreciated it or not, she remained bent on lifting the mood. That, or at least keeping the peace and quiet at bay for as long as possible. “You know, being that it’s the end and all and we’re already on the subject, I suppose it’s appropriate to ask if any of you believe in memory ever after?”
No one responded. It was of no matter to Rali, who carried on without missing a beat anyway. “Memory ever after is the orc equivalent of the afterlife, in case you didn’t know. Except, instead of going into some magical beyond, you exist in a part of your own past. Essentially, right before you die, you think of your happiest memory. After you’ve breathed your last breath, you wake up there and you get to relive it forever.” “Does sound kind of nice,” Faris admitted.
“I thought so, too. Do you believe in it, Oralia?”
“No,” Oralia answered before realizing perhaps the truth wasn’t necessary.
“Alright, well we’re going to pretend for however long we’ve got left that you all do. Think of your best memory. I want details, people. Paint me a picture so I feel like I’m there.”
There was a general grumble of reluctance, but no one refused outright.
Rali demonstrated by volunteering her version of the afterlife first. “I want to go back to the time Mika Strongborn and I ran away and spent three days together, alone, in a cottage in the woods. It was pouring buckets outside, but inside the fire was roaring and we fell asleep each night listening to the rain.” Rali closed her eyes, smiling. “Mika was my first love. He was young and dumb, but sweet. And his beard was so soft. I could bury my face in it forever.”
Faris gawked at her, surprise written across his dirt-speckled face. “I did not realize you were such a romantic.”
“Granted, that was before his mother kicked down the door and sent him off to work in his uncle’s mine halfway across the territory,” Rali said absentmindedly. “What about you, Faris? Where are you going to spend eternity? Fleecing someone? Rolling in a giant pile of money?”
“End of the week supper. The one right before the realm came knocking at our door. Back when things were simpler.” By the warm look on his face, he was there now, reliving it. “The end of the workweek was the cook’s days off and Mum always insisted we make one of the evening meals together as a family. Father and I had been fighting something fierce that week. But the rule was, no matter how bad the quarreling got, our differences were put aside until afterward.
“I got up early that day to help mum make the bread. Dinglehead was being as helpful as usual, so we stuck him on the opposite counter out of the way. Father came in a little later to start the stew. Mum kept distracting him with questions and every time he’d go back to chopping, half of his diced vegetables would be gone. He got through an entire bunch of carrots before Father realized Rasp was tossing handfuls out the window whenever his back was turned. Mum laughed so hard she cried. Which got me going too, and before long everyone was on the floor ’cause no one could stand. Father eventually composed himself and made a big show of banishing them to the parlor. It was only me and him after that. We spent the rest of the afternoon just us two in the kitchen. I can’t for the life of me remember what we talked about, but for the first time in weeks, it didn’t feel like there was an invisible weight hanging over us.”
“Your best memory is making dinner?” Rasp’s muffled voice came from below. The Stoneclaw was stretched on his back across one of the lower steps, with his arms tucked behind his head, staring upward at nothing. “Not even the best part, where you get to eat it. No, you want to live forever making it.”
“Some of us had a decent homelife, alright? And yes, I enjoyed spending time with my family,” Faris snapped. “Now tell me yours so I can judge it just as harshly.”
“Don’t have to. I’m going to come back as a warbear and haunt the shit out of my brothers.”
“Oh come on, Rasp,” Rali said. “You’ve got to have a happy memory in there somewhere. How do you want to spend eternity? Are you raiding a village? Doing despicable things to your penis?”
“Fine, what are the rules? Do I die knowing everything I know now? Or only what I knew in that moment?”
“You return as you were in the memory,” Rali answered. “No knowledge of the future or the fact that you’re dead.”
The boy was quiet for some time, as though actually considering his answer. At last, in a far-off voice, Rasp replied, “Holding my son for the first time.”