I raise my head and kneel to see down over the grass. I can hear galloping and the wooden rail is missing. It looks like someone tossed a stick of dynamite. The fire’s gone and there’s just wispy dark smoke rising from a scorched twenty foot diameter pit. The blackened earth stretches maybe another ten feet from the edge of the divot surrounded by lumps of dirt and rocks. My heart is still thumping against my ribs. There’s no sound at all besides the fading gallop and no movement. No sign of the bandits either. No wait. There’s one I think. There’s a huddled mass some ways off. Ya. There’s the other in the mouth of the cave. I wait a minute watching. Nothing’s moving. No one’s coming. I try to regain my composure.
My mind races. At this point I could abandon and charge back to town. But anyone with any horse riding experience could catch me. If they could catch their horses first. Even if I did make it to town they'd come. And I'm pretty sure there'd be no help. I have to finish this here. There's no turning back
“You okay?”
“I am.”
“Hole. Uhm... unpinch, Nux Tru?”
“Correct.”
I hold the book in front of me and pinch my fingertips together, watching the cave entrance. I wait. Still nothing. The horses are out of earshot and my breathing seems unusually loud. Get up. Move it. I get to my feet and scurry down the slope with the book held forward and my fingers still pinched. My eyes dart about the cave. Still no one. I hurry to the body I spotted first and turn away immediately in revulsion.
“Ah fuck. He’s all fucked up.”
“He exploded.”
I look over the remains quickly. He did explode. It looks like his lungs burst his chest open. That’s fucked up.
“Ah shit. His ears are gone I think. That’s stupid.”
“He has no lips.”
I look back at the cave entrance. Still no sound. Still dark.
“Okay, get a bird’s eye view. Whip around the area and let me know if you see any of the others.”
“Yes.”
The dragonfly darts upwards and I crouch behind some boulders beside the mouth of the cave. I listen intently for anything. But there isn’t even a crackling fire anymore. Everything is black and still. Who are these people? I suppose they could have been anyone. Bad circumstances. Bad choices. Could I be one of them if their life was mine? A nameless and unsuspecting victim. Everyone makes bad choices. Maybe I was like them.
Blue returns with no observations other than the fleeing horses are still fleeing. This is suddenly real. Injury. Death. I have no control over the outcome. It feels like blind gambling. Play the right card at the right time and you win. But I can’t see my cards or when the other players are playing.
“One more time? In the cave, stick to the shadows, look for the others or anything else of interest. Return if you can’t proceed without exposing yourself.”
“Yes.”
“Do exactly as I say. Seriously. Don’t fuck up.”
I move into the cave for cover as Blue vanishes into the darkness ahead. My eyes begin adjusting and I can see there’s a glow from further in somewhere. I can also smell what seems like cooking meat. I hadn’t realized how hungry I am. What have I eaten today? Some jerky. I can’t wait to be back in town. A beer. Some sausages. The dragonfly returns and reports a single tunnel that ends with a fissure leading into a larger chamber. There's a man sitting down. The glow is emanating from there. There were whispers but it couldn’t continue forward to better hear them.
“Did you see a fire?”
“Yes.”
We’ve lost the element of surprise. At least some of it. They may have guessed I’ve come. And it follows that they’d expect magic. And I left my rope up the hill. So I need to strike fast. Keep them on their heels.
“Let’s do it. Eyes open, stay outta sight.”
I move slowly into the cave. My eyes are adjusting and the glow is apparent. I can even make out the form of the stone around me. It all seems naturally formed. Not much in terms of comfort. The cave floor is uneven and cracked with patches of mud here and there. I step as carefully and quietly as I can while watching for the source of light. Ahead I can see the fissure Blue mentioned. It’s a narrow space in the stone where the glow is brightest. As I approach I begin to see the fire. I can also see the larger man from the tavern. He’s just sitting there as though waiting for me. From where I am I can’t see anyone else that might have been whispering.
The beating in my heart is in my ears now like the sound of drums. I hate feeling like this. Unsure. Afraid. Like this is hit or miss. And if I miss I’m dead. I’m frozen. Come on. Take your stance. Say the words. Do it. Do it. Slowly and quietly I do it.
“Pyr Ex.”
In the dark the flash is blinding. The sound is amplified through the tunnel of rock. It is clearly not intended for indoor use. Searing air blasts through the fissure and I find myself gasping for breath on the ground as I choke on dust and smoke. I feel stunned and disoriented. All I see is darkness. I roll onto my side squinting to where I think the fire was. Wherever it was it ‘s not there anymore. I barely hear the stones scraping beneath me. Everything’s muffled like I’m under water and that high pitched sound seems to fill my entire skull.
“Blue?”
My voice sounds like I’m talking with a mouthful of sock. I feel a small fan of air on my cheek and I instinctively flinch away from it. It’s voice is the only clear thing in my head.
“I’m here.”
“Shh. You okay?”
I can’t tell how loudly or clearly I’m speaking.
“I am. Are you?”
“I don’t know. Can you see anything?”
“No. I can hear moaning.”
I get on my hands and knees and look around. I can see the dim light from outside filtering through the smoke.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“I need light.”
“Hold the book above you, hold or point at a combustible material, and speak Ap Pyr.”
Torches. Forgot to buy those. I get to my feet still feeling dizzy and shaking at the knees. I make my way back out of the cave in a crouch. I take deep breaths of fresh air and find the pile of sticks and wood they stocked for their campfire. They’re scattered and scorched but some are usable. I grab a few for my pack as well.
“Ap Pyr.”
I turn my face away while I hold the stick at arm’s length. It ignites from end to end and I drop it. Rummaging through my pack I find one of my leather foot wraps. It’s supple enough for me to use as a mitt for now. I stomp out the end of the branch and pick it up. It doesn’t provide much light. But it’s enough to get my back down the tunnel to the chamber opening. I squeeze through and the smoke here is still thick. The flame barely illuminates but I can get a sense of the size of the chamber. Maybe thirty feet across. Relatively circular. I toss the stick into what’s left of the cooking pit and the visibility drops too. I pull out my knife.
“The flaming blade, let’s try it.”
“Hold the book against the arm that holds the blade. Speak Min Pyr.”
As I say the words the blade erupts with a small ball of fire that rises along its length. It leaves a bright coating of fire from the hilt up which dances off the tip. The chamber is suddenly visible. The big guy looks like a broken mess against the far wall. There’s another one of them crumpled beside the opening I came through. The third is lying behind a blackened box or chest along the right wall. I assume he was the moaner as he’s not dead. Now he’s just quivering and his breathing is quick and shallow.
The chamber floor is scattered with rocks that I assume resulted from the blast. Maybe they were tossed like in a snow globe or maybe they crumbled from the ceiling. Where the big guy is heaped there are what appear to have been sleeping bags or mats. Something else I should have bought. I approach the man who's still alive slowly as though maybe he’s just playing possum. I watch him carefully but he doesn’t seem to be aware of me. I think he must be in his own world of unbearable pain. Half of his face is blackened and there are cracks where I can see the raw flesh beneath. His eye looks seared shut. He looks rigid as though all his muscles have tensed at the same time. I grip the knife handle firmly but I can’t coax myself to drive the blade. What if I miss the mark? How many times would I need to stab him? He’s gurgling now.
I sit on the box with him in the corner of my eye. I watch the flame on my blade flickering. I think about stabbing him. In the ribs? In the throat? I have no idea because this isn’t me. I don’t think I’ve ever killed anyone. And all I can think now is at least it’s not me. Yeah. They knew I was coming. No way to know for sure now but I can piece potential scenarios together. I’d be dead. Pretty sure of that. If they weren’t who they were they wouldn’t be dead right now. I need to make sure I’m not the kind of person who ends up dead too. Or clinging to life half roasted. I glance down at him. Scratch that. I think he’s dead too.
I suppose I’m a little surprised I feel nothing. They just seem like objects now. Like sculptures. The one beside me still has an ear at least. I watch him briefly to make sure he’s really dead then lean over him with my knife. I bring it close to his ear and I can’t do it. Dead or not that’s gross. Not sure why that didn’t occur to me before now. Well this was a waste of time and an unnecessary risk. How does an ear even identify someone? They’d need an ear gallery to match them up. Ear artists. Fuck it stinks in here.
I hold my knife out and scan the chamber. There are some weapons lying around beside the bodies. Knives and a sword. I swing my knife in front of me and it doesn’t feel like I know what I’m doing. I don’t think weapons were my thing. The wood of the box looks warped but the lid opens on its hinges easy enough. I find a few torches so that’s good. There’s a pouch with some silver and copper. Not enough to sustain me for long but I loop it on my belt next to the other. And there’s a gold watch. I hold it up to my ear and shake it but it makes no sound. It has a thin gold chain attached and otherwise looks unremarkable. Is it junk? Is it treasure? I slip it into one of the pouches.
I head back outside and up the hill to get my rope. To what I assume is the West in the direction of town the clouds are breaking. They look layered. The high layer is of bright orange and yellow and covers half the sky. Below it is a darker strip. Smoky red like a dying fire. Below that is a distant layer of charcoal. The sky below that is a clear bright orange down to the horizon. It looks like a painting. Behind me the clouds look heavy and bruised. It’s a sky that should be above another world and I feel suddenly lighter with longing. Like there’s a world out there where my worries aren’t present. Where the worries I feel are irrelevant. It changes imperceptibly and it’s gone. Or maybe I stared too long. But now it’s just a sunset and a sky. Whatever it evoked in me is so fleeting I’m not even sure I felt it. Except that I’m pretty sure I’ve felt this before. It might be a safe assumption that anything I feel I’ve felt before. Or anything I think for that matter.
“Nice sky.”
“Yeah, alright isn’t it?”
I think of the horses still galloping away. All bound together by cords and a stick. I chuckle.
“All those horses are gonna have to eat at the same time.”
I toss the coil of rope in my hand and chuckle again.
“That’s pretty funny. They’ll have to agree when it’s supper time. Actually, I feel kinda bad for them, all tied together having to run in the same direction. They’re gonna be miserable.”
I feel like this is gonna bother me if I keep thinking about it. I turn and toss the bulk of the coil down the slope.
“Check that. That’s gotta be like thirty feet. 40 feet, maybe?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah. Let’s tie em and drag em.”
I stomp back down the slope and lie my still flaming blade where I want to start the project. I drag the remains of the two bandits close together. Just slabs of meat. Human meat that squelches and cracks as I heave them around. I’m already out of breath as I knot the rope around their waists. I take my knife and head in to the cave. One at a time I drag them out and connect them to the others. The big guy is the worst. He’s big and heavy and his skin slides off wherever I grab him. Is he worth five gold? Probably not. But I feel compelled to finish the way I’d planned. When I’m done I’m bloody and sweaty and gasping but I have about fifteen feet of rope to spare. I’m not sure what to do about the flame on my knife so I sheathe it. It crackles and smokes but seems to extinguish. I shrug.
“Stinky, but it works.”
“Yes.”
I fetch my horse and lead him over the hill. I tie the end of the rope the side of the saddle and mount up. Fuck my ass. This is gonna be a long ride and I may have to walk part of the way. I kick the horse forward and it immediately starts to trot crooked. I don’t know how to best tie things to it and it’s turned slightly to the right as it struggles forward. I steer it around the hill which is longer but flatter. By the time we reach the road it’s breathing heavily. It seems to manage a regular pace with less drag on a flatter surface. But it still seems to struggle. I look back and even on the road the bodies are bouncing and rolling to either side. I hope they don’t fall apart.
It takes a while to reach the crossroads and I steer the horse towards Panner’s End. At this rate night will have fallen long before I arrive. I pull the watch out and turn it in my fingers in the dim light. Something’s not right here. Something doesn’t fit. Maybe that’s not it. Everything so far has fit. It’s what they fit into that isn’t right. Or is it me? Does everything fit into something right except me. I slip the watch back into the pouch.
There’s a scream up ahead. I can see someone on the road. There’s another scream and I assume it’s a an older woman. She’s directly in the path of my horse and I think she’s stumbling towards me. More screams but I can’t tell if she’s even saying anything. It’s almost inhuman. Just shrieks. And I’m sure they’re directed at me. Now I’m just walking down the middle of the road here. So if she’s in the way that’s not my fault.
The distance between us closes and I can make out a limp. Or maybe just an irregular stride. I still can’t tell what she’s screaming so I assume she’s just crazy. Even crazy people must recognize when they’re gonna get trampled to death. I’m right on top of her when my horse rears to the side like he’s just noticed her. She grasps at the reins and my knee with a guttural squawk. It’s the Buggrup lady. I recognize the fucking leather and creases of her face. Ooooh I wanna kick her.
“Heeeeeey! Ayaaagh!!”
Her crooked mouth clamps shut and squishes her face like she’s got no teeth as she waits for a response. Her eyes look wide and wild as I try to steady the horse. I feel startled and unnerved. Crazy old bat out of the dark like that with a face that looks like it was made out of dirty pillow someone stuck their fist into. I'm sure she's got a head full of big girl thoughts. Maybe she just feels like she's done enough. Leave the words for the kids. I try to project a calm tone despite her fingers digging into my knee.
"Oh, hey, sorry. Didn't see ya there."