The ledge had crumbled away in some places but was still solid enough that the going wasn't tough. Still, halfway across, she felt her fingers start to ache from gripping the knobs and cracks in the rocky wall.
It was about then she remembered the blast of warm air shooting through the tunnel and she felt her heart quicken slightly.
What if the Twins hadn't slid down to their deaths?
She set her jaw and tried not to think about it, but her ears began to hurt as she strained to hear the slightest hint of another blast. Shuddering, she reached for the next gap in the wall.
"Nysta," Chukshene called. "Can you see that? On the other side?"
She twisted carefully, aware that one slip would mean a painful death. Saw the warlock was staring curiously at shadows on the far wall. The globe of yellow light buzzed away, shining its sickly light across what looked to be heavy scars.
Scars which crisscrossed the stone as though something had raked the walls.
Something big.
Glancing down, the elf wondered if she was about to make the same mistake the Twins had made. Had their fear led them to move too fast through the tunnel? Had a blast of hot air knocked them to their death?
Or had something else happened here?
Squinting at the massive lines cut into the stone, she began to have her suspicions.
The warlock sounded nervous. "What do you make of it? Claws? A place like this would make the perfect lair for a wyrm."
"You think too much," she growled, turning away and moving faster along the ledge. Eager to leave the pit far behind. "Just keep moving."
The putrid stink of death, both old and fresh, wafted up from below. A poisonous stench that aroused too many memories in the elf. Since that first night when her father cast her onto the streets of Lostlight, she'd inhaled that stink more times than anyone should have to.
Sometimes, it was almost easy to believe the Old Skeleton himself dogged her steps.
She made the other side of the shattered tunnel without incident. The warlock was just behind her, taking two steps before sinking with a sigh of relief to the ground.
Dropped his grimoire across his knees and leaned back hard against the wall.
Looked out across the pit and couldn't suppress a shudder.
"Awful way to die," he muttered.
She sat cross-legged next to him, feeling the final dregs of terror to leave her blood. "Ain't no good ways to die. Told you that."
"Sure there is," he said, wiping sweat from his cheeks. "I've already got mine planned. Soon as I'm too old to be useful, I'm hiring a dozen whores. They can fuck me to death. Imagine that. Tits in my mouth. Tits in my hands. Ah, I'll be smothered in tits. A beautiful way to die, Long-ear."
The elf snorted. "You're an asshole, Chukshene."
"I know," he said airily. "But I've had a shit life. I deserve a happy death. What about you? Ever wonder how you're gonna die?"
"Reckon I'll probably die fighting," she said, looking down at her hands. It wasn't something she wanted to talk about.
It reminded her too much of snatched conversations shared with her former Jadean.
The warlock sobered fast, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. I guess I can see that. And you want to know something? I'm sorry for you. Must have been a time when you were a good kid. When you could've been something else. Something luckier. I don't know. I've never known anyone so twisted up inside like you. There's a look in your eyes sometimes and it makes me bleed with all the pity I got for you. And I know you hate hearing it. But you deserve better than you've got. Better than you're going to get."
"My life ain't over yet, Chukshene," she said softly, rubbing the sweat off the back of her neck. "Or is it?"
He licked his upper lip. Slowly. "What do you mean?"
"Reckon you know what I'm asking," she said. "You called it a cage."
"What?"
"Talek's box. You called it a cage. Like it had something in it that got out. Like you don't believe it's gone for good. And you look at me like you know it's still there. But you won't tell me what it is. And you know what, Chukshene? You keep this secret from me, and only one of two things is gonna happen. Either you kill me first, or I'll kill you."
She spoke evenly, without emotion. She might as well have been talking about the weather. But it was cold enough that the warlock looked down at his grimoire as though it might save him.
Kept silent for what felt like an age.
And then, just as she was about to give up and keep moving, he spoke. His voice was a soft hush and even with her hearing, she had to strain to catch his words above the relentless drumming beneath the earth.
"You're right I got secrets," he said. "And for good reasons. Damn good reasons. Reasons you might find out one day. Not today, though. But I'll tell you one thing. And it's the best I can give you at this stage, Nysta. It's this - I don't know what it is. I really don't. I really have told you everything I know. Which is nothing. Sure, I have my hunches. But any one of those could get you killed if I told you. And don't ask me why, because I can't tell you that either. Now, I know you've had a tough life. That you've forgotten how to trust. And I guess I can't say I'm the most trustworthy person in the world. But this one time, Nysta. This one time, I'm asking you to trust me. I can't tell you what I think it is. Not yet. But I'll also make you a promise. I'll find out what it is. Somehow. And I won't keep it from you. I'll let you know. And you can believe me or not on that, but it's the straight truth."
"You're right." she said. "It ain't easy to trust you."
He grinned, but it was a grin twisted with his own private sorrow. "I know. Must be my winning personality. Makes people doubt my sincerity. But I mean it, Long-ear. I'll find out. And I'll tell you."
"Back there, in the fortress. Told you I killed two men."
"I remember."
"One of them stuck me. In the back with a big fucking hook. Tore open my shoulder."
He looked surprised. "That must've hurt like a bitch."
"Ain't something I want to repeat," she confirmed. "Thing is, it's gone. Healed up. And you mentioned how fast I was healing. But I ain't ever healed that fast before. You know why that is, Chukshene? Or how long it's gonna last?"
"I really don't know," he said, shrugging. "Like I said, I've only got hunches. But be careful. There's no such thing as immortal. Only hard to kill. Maybe you got lucky. Maybe you did fight it off. It's possible even that a part of it stayed with you. Like, an essence. And maybe that essence heals you faster than normal. I heard some orks heal fast. And then there's fucking goblins. Bastards heal faster than flies fuck. Could be you're like them, now. If I were you, though, I wouldn't be keen to test its limits. So don't go letting someone cut your head off is all I'm saying."
In the years she'd spent scrounging on the streets, she'd learnt the difference between a lie and the truth. Knew no matter how sneaky the warlock was, he couldn't fool her on that.
So, she believed he was telling the truth.
Maybe not the whole truth, but enough of it that she felt a lessening of her distrust for the spellslinger. Enough that she didn't feel the need to throw him into the pit.
Not yet.
"Obliged," she said, more curtly than she'd meant to. "Maybe you ain't so bad for a mage."
"And I appreciate that." His lip twisted into a dry smirk. "I bet that hurt to say."
"Not so much as you'd think," she said, returning his smirk with one of her own. "Reckon a lot of people think I had a bad mouth to start with."