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"The Assassin's Apprentice" is told in first person present tense and has been heavily edited.
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Chapter 15
We leave Black-Eyed Jack's following the curious little fellow to a different warehouse down the street; it's packed with crates and boxes. Wriln moves one of them aside. The light reveals a hole in the wall that's four feet wide and barely sufficient for Logren's immense girth. The furling gestures with his hands.
"Down," he says. It's the first time I clearly understand a word. His eyes brighten considerably when he regards me.
Can he see in the dark? I think to myself. But before I can ask him, he vanishes through the hole.
I gaze into the darkness and see a light about fifteen feet down. But the smell welling up from below nearly knocks me unconscious. Tethyr's Teeth, have I become this much of a sissy? Talen urges me to move despite my reservation.
"We can trust him," he says.
Oh yeah, there's that too...the whole issue of trusting a known traitor to his own guild. But I don't let my lover know that it's the smell that's keeping me at bay.
"If you say so," I utter.
And with that, I leap into the darkness.
My boots find a solid purchase in the dim ante-room, which I surmise is where Wriln "hangs his hat." Talen lands next to me with the grace of a cat.
The only light stems from a small, fat candle. At first it's disappointing. I secretly "hoped" all that light shone from his eyes. That would have been cool. But Wriln is not cool...not in the least.
All around the room are piles of junk. Bronze helmets, old paintings, balls of colored string, and old sailing tarps. There are crates and lanterns, bits of colored glass, and a few bottles of ink. He hands me a worn, black sack and motions for me to cover myself.
Why does everyone always want me to cover my face? Am I that ugly?
Admittedly, I've self-esteem issues, and it doesn't matter how much Talen tells me that I look good because an inner voice says, "he's only attracted to you for your fake confidence." In other words, he's obligated to be nice.
I swear under my breath and snatch the bag from Wriln noting that one ISN'T handed to Talen.
Typical.
"He means for you to cover your blond hair," Talen advises.
"Of course he does," I say somewhat acerbically to the short man. "It's always the blond hair, right? Easiest excuse in the book."
"Is something eating at you?" Talen asks me.
"Not at all," I answer. I remove one of my knives and start to shape it, and then borrow a bit of his string to tie the mask to my face.
~WHOMP!~
Behind me, Logren crashes into the room like a bull in a china closet. The noise makes my teeth rattle and almost makes me cut open my thumb.
The giant shrugs his shoulders helplessly, feeling the cold stares from both me and Talen. Even Wriln regards him with shock. How do I know? All his hairs are standing on end, making him look like a huge porcupine.
The little man turns away, picks up his candle, and moves further into the room muttering to himself. "Hyt ycome 'n abyde 'n snell," he says. "Ycome...ycome."
Talen moves in front of me and follows Wriln who's quickly disappearing into the encroaching darkness. I cover my head and re-adjust my katana. I look at Logren and wince visibly as the giant moves in behind me, his boots seeking out noise like a kid playing in puddles after a summer storm.
Wriln heads toward a large, makeshift door and pulls it aside. There's a narrow ledge, below which leans a rickety wooden ladder that descends into an utter void. And Talen fearlessly jumps into the dark without so much as a clue beforehand.
Since when did he become the alpha male?
I steel my nerve and glance down. I see nothing, but I hear his feet land on something solid below.
"It's a good distance," he cautions. "I'd guess about forty feet. And there's some tricky footing so watch yourself."
Wriln shakes his head and starts down the ladder. His light reveals Talen standing upright in the mouth of a large tunnel that branches in three directions. The ground's made from uneven stone slabs placed together ingeniously at some ancient time in the past. The workmanship of the gray stone blocks is exquisite and is unchanged despite the passing of centuries. From the edge of the wall to the ground is probably closer to thirty feet. I laugh inside realizing that six inches to Talen is NOT six inches to me.
I jump and land next to my boyfriend. Then together, we wait for Logren and Wriln to catch up to us.
"Lordynges, listyn to Wriln," he says. "Counsell fyt good, quick I het. Leue to myt and wende for myt counsell."
Talen translates almost immediately. "Wait for him to tell us where to go."
"Oh." I consider the mole for a moment, wondering why he left the guild here in Ladika. Wriln brushes by us and selects a tunnel, his light bobbing like a will-o-the-wisp.
We follow into a maze of passages and tunnels underneath the city. It's dry and surprisingly clean here, and Talen tells me that the city used these tunnels in the past to store goods when pirates attacked the harbor. When the regional government of Ventikor took over two centuries ago, they erected a harbor wall which makes it impossible for ships to attack the city directly. The tunnels went into disuse. Now, only cutthroats and thieves know the entire extent of the labyrinth.
"He says that deep elves have been building tunnels about three levels lower than this one," Talen whispers into my ear.
"Deep elves?" But before he can answer my question, Wriln tells him something else, and Talen's face drains of color.
"They're sacrificing humans, Kian, and eating their hearts."
"Cannibalism?"
He nods, "That's the word for it, yes."
I suddenly realize just how oppressive the dark seems to be.
Wriln moves forward and reveals a grate on the floor filled with webs. He grabs it with his chubby fingers and moves the iron grate aside creating an absolutely hellish storm of rust flakes and falling spiders. Underneath is another shaft of pure darkness.
I press my eyes shut for a few seconds and try to push away my phobia of spiders. I fell into a nest of them once as a child, and I can still feel them crawling across my face.
The sound of rushing water emanates from below. Maybe one of the tunnels collapsed and now allows water from the bay into the tunnel. In either case, the sound calms my nerves.
Talen turns to Logren and I. "Wriln says there's a ledge about forty feet down. It's only two feet wide; we need to stay on it. There's a breach in the tunnel down there, and it's let sharks into the tunnels."
I glance at Logren who seems at odds with himself. Either that, or he's incredibly constipated. I'd hate to see the kind of turd a giant like him would leave behind after a few days.
"We'll go first and anchor some handholds for you," I tell him. "It'll be slow going, that's all."
Talen takes off his pack and uncoils a length of black silk rope. He ties it off on a metal hook and then pounds the hook into the stone floor with a mallet. He anchors two others in a similar fashion, just in case one of them gives out. I stare into the depths of the hole in front of us and my mouth drains of saliva.
"Are you scared?" Talen asks me.
"Of course not," I lie.
Talen snickers under his breath.
"I saw a shark pass by me once when I was little," I say. "My father told me I got lucky because it probably ate someone already. If there are sharks down there, you can bet that they're starving."
Wriln hands Talen the candle.
My friend tugs on the rope making certain it's secure. "I'll call up if there's any trouble."
"Wait," I say, "You can't go first."
But before I can stop him, Talen drops into the hole, carrying the candle in his left hand while rappelling with his other limbs into the darkness.
"I see the ledge," he announces.
It sounds like he's in an echo chamber. But despite hearing it, I'm afraid that I might lose him. Gods, is this what it's like being in love? Am I going to worry like this on every mission?
Talen's voice is flint-like and empty. "I'll have to swing over to it," he says. Then, he falls silent, and all I can do is focus on the candle flame below me. The rope goes slack. "I'm fine," he calls up at last.
My turn and I waste no time.
The sides of the hole are covered with a slime mold, and the smell permeates everything. As I slide through the roof of the tunnel below, Talen, still holding the end of the rope, pulls me across to the ledge.
I take a look around, my eyes adjusting to the dark. By the candlelight, I see the ledge is just as Wriln indicated...a mere two feet wide. He neglected to mention that it's only a foot above the water. I don't like that at all. And to make matters worse, I see something huge move in the brine. I make out pale skin and dark eyes before it disappears in the brackish depths.
Talen unbuckles me from the line.
"Tell me again," I say to Talen, "why we have to go this way?"
He stares at me with his sparkling eyes. "Wriln says the other tunnels are used quite frequently by things we don't want to run into. No one will come down here."
I steady myself next to him and look out across the water, searching for the other side. The light, however, is insufficient. That "gloom" actually increases the feeling of foreboding, like I'm standing on the only land at the edge of an endless dark sea filled with flesh-eating fish. It's quite unsettling.
Talen hands me two fist-sized hooks and instructs me to pound them into the wall just beyond the edge of the candlelight. "We'll proceed down the corridor, looping the rope in the hooks. Logren can use the cable to steady himself."
"But we'll run out of rope," I object.
Talen shakes his head. "You take the lead. I'll take up the rear. I can run back along the ledge and retrieve the rope and the hooks. It'll be slow going but we should clear the tunnel in three hours."
"Then you know how far we have to go?" I ask.
"I haven't the foggiest idea," Talen says. "But Ladika is only four miles wide. That means that we're at least within two miles of the museum. Even at a crawling pace I can cover four miles in an hour. Do the math, Kian. I figure at a snail's pace, it'll take us no more than three hours."
I grab the hooks and follow Talen's instructions. Meanwhile, Talen whistles and pulls the rope taught. He has his end looped through a pulley he's pounded into the wall so that Logren's weight will pull him back instead of forward into the water.
Talen is so much smarter than me.
I watch as Logren lowers himself on the rope. If ever a juicy morsel got dangled over hungry sharks, this is it.
The giant is so large and heavy that I'm actually afraid the rope will snap. Talen's having a heck of a time as well, trying to keep Logren from swinging about wildly. At one point, the rope dips and Logren's boot trails in the water. I rush over and help Talen pull against the wall and Logren's body lifts a few inches. Talen and I are both very strong, but the effort has me straining, and we still haven't gotten him to the ledge safely.
With both of us dripping sweat, Talen cautions me to pull once more. He coils the opposite end of the rope about his hand and leans out over the water. Logren grabs hold of him, and Talen pulls him onto the ledge where he steadies himself against my body. Breathing hard, my buddy reaches down and splashes some water on his face. My eyes scan the dark water, but I see nothing.
"Please, don't do that," I tell him.
"What?" he asks. "Wet my face?"
I nod, and then watch Wriln scurry down the rope. His is the easiest descent. Once on the ledge, he takes the lead.
"Follow," he beckons.
Talen stands up and motions for me to move. I don't need to be told twice.
We walk along the corridor for a mile; I pound hooks and string the rope. Behind me, somewhere in the dark, Talen pulls them out and gives them to Logren to hand to me so that I can place them again. It's monotonous, grueling work; I'm secretly thankful I'm in such good shape. After an hour, I become aware that we've attracted our first man-eater.
We must seem like a curiosity to it. The shark swims parallel to us, following Wriln's bobbing light. It's large too, fully six feet from its dorsal fin to its tail, but the light's too dim for me to make out much more. It splashes me a couple of times.
It's then that I catch a whiff of an unmistakable smell.
Up ahead and on our path are the partially chewed remains of a human being. Maggots fill his eye sockets and mouth and brine flies swarm around him and over the water. These particular vermin secrete oil that's as slick as bacon grease but putrid enough to make a Billy goat puke. Behind me, Talen retches.
"What is this, Wriln?" I ask.
The small man wrings his hands despairingly, pointing above. "Myrder," he says. "Yn proude not I for lytheren folk and eke of vyce distroyen whom he syketh."
I understand. The thieves of Ladika dispose of their kills down here. This one must've been still alive. He reached the ledge before being bit in half below the waist. It's monstrous.
Wriln kicks the body into the water, and I watch it sink into the depths. The shark reacts, diving for it. Blood and spoiled meat floats to the top along with the maggots. They churn about like bits of rice in egg drop soup. Wriln moves quickly past the horror, and I follow, careful to purchase my feet in places where they will not slip.
I wait to make sure Talen clears safely.
I try to focus, listening to the gentle murmur of the water. It brings back memories of an earlier time when I welcomed the ocean like an old friend and when I enjoyed the reflection of the sunlight playing against my face, hands, and chest.
We come across no more rotting corpses, and I utter a short prayer to Tethyr when we finally reach the tunnel that empties near the Museum of Karlyoun.
It's dry in this tunnel, but I feel wet from all the sweat trapped between my skin and the armor I wear. The end of our tunnel is all collapsed rock.
Wriln busies himself in creating a hole just wide enough for him to get through.
Talen and I follow suit, extracting a few more handfuls of stone. It takes a few minutes to clear away enough for us to squeeze past, albeit one at a time. As I negotiate the passage, the sharp end of a boulder presses against my back, and I worry that it may drop further, crushing me.
Talen wriggles out behind me. Last comes Logren. The giant grunts heavily, shifting the larger boulders out of the way.
I turn to Talen, "Why didn't we let him go first?"
He smiles, "Because we're scouts? If he'd gone through and been spotted, the gig would be up, right?"
"Oh," I say.
Talen hugs me. It's unexpected. "What's that for? Not that I don't like it?"
He whispers, "You're like a dumb jock sometimes, and I absolutely love you for it."
"But you don't think I'm dumb, right?"
"Of course not." He nuzzles his nose against my cloak. "I just say that because it's one of the things that make you so adorable."
I smile behind my mask even though he can't see it. I'm amazed when Logren emerges only minutes after us, hefting a rock as large as Wriln with one hand. He casually tosses it aside using but a twist of his hand.
He's a grand and powerful man, this giant, with strength ten times my own.
Before us is a canopy of thick weeds and bushes. I gaze beyond them and see a good measure of rubble marking the edge of old Ladika. Wriln indicates the Museum of Karlyoun; it's a building on the far side of a large park. Much of the park is overgrown, particularly where we're standing. And an old iron fence is all that remains of any border separating the park from the street.
The museum itself lies sandwiched between two older buildings: the city mint and the government building, which Talen assures me, holds the prisons and judging halls of the consulate. Beyond the government building are the rainbow orchards of the palace grounds. They crown the hill in brilliant color during the day. All men of money must be drawn to building their houses on high places. I make a pact that, if ever I become rich, I'll live in a valley with serene farms and unobtrusive cottages.
The grounds around the museum are quartered off by a large wall sheathed in expensive marble. There's one iron gate in good repair with a sign that I can't read.
Talen doesn't make a big deal about my illiteracy, but I'm still ashamed. I guess I AM a "dumb jock."
He tells me, "It says they're closed for the evening."
On the other side of the wall are tall oak and elm trees, spruce and maple. I see their full canopies from here, even though the season is late.
I regard Talen who's slipping into his night clothes. I catch just a glimpse of his taught belly and the top of my priapus which I had no idea he was wearing. It makes my cock harden. His uniform is black like mine with the same kind of boots and gloves that he slips directly over bare skin. He dons a belt and slips a black wool sack over his head with holes cut for his eyes and mouth.
I guess maybe the mask thing isn't just limited to me.
"I'm ready," he says.
"Why are you wearing that?" I ask.
Talen turns. "What?"
"My priapus?" I whisper.
He puts an arm across my shoulder. "Because I want a part of you with me all the time, buddy. I love you."
I swallow my urge to cry and resolve myself to the mission. Maybe later, I can borrow something of his and wear it...like his sweaty boots for example. It excites me just to think about that. There's definitely an intimacy involved in exchanging clothes.
Wriln shrugs his shoulders and indicates that he'll wait for us here. It's probably better that way.
I face Logren. "Wait for a few minutes after Talen and I leave. If you think you can get into position near the museum then by all means, do so. But if you can't, then watch for us. We might need help but don't blow our cover. Understand?"
He nods in the affirmative.
I rejoin Talen and then push my way through the dense undergrowth. Even I can't avoid making a sound, but I try to move during a breeze, because all the natural rustling will muffle any noise I unintentionally create. Talen, I discover, is as proficient as I (if not better) at this trick. Many a time I look back certain that he's left me alone only to find him right on my heel.
"Keep going, Kian," he directs.
We scramble through the shadows of a raspberry copse to where the iron gate of the park leans over and touches the lower branches of a huge oak tree. Talen hands me a water bottle, and I take a swig while absorbing everything that I can with all my senses.
Now that we're closer to our target, I can see that it's guarded on the inside by two huge men. They're over seven feet tall and dressed in studded leather armor. These are the Slayers of Vas. However, a roar sounds from the throat of a beast which remains unseen. It must have come from the courtyard on the inside of the museum's gate.
"Perhaps another guardian?" Talen ventures.
"Perhaps? What do you mean by 'perhaps?' I need to know what that thing is." I hand him back his water bottle. "How many of the slayers do you count?"
Talen swallows some water and puts the bottle away. "I count a dozen."
I look around but don't see what he's talking about. "How do you come up with that number?"
"Two at the gate and two on the inside of the museum. There's tracks in the dirt on the outside of the wall. That's at least another two. Now, do you see that light in the north side of the museum? It's up on the wall."
I look and notice a tower joining the right angles of the east and south wall. I can't see a light directly but I do notice a place where a shadow falls across the roof at an angle. I nod. "I can't see the light though."
Talen shrugs. "That shadow is too long to be from the moon. Our position just won't let us see the light clearly. It's a lit room and there has to be enough guards in that tower to cover shifts. That brings us to one dozen, boyfriend, by my book."
Just as he finishes speaking I note two guards in studded leather and togas. They appear from around the side and walk abreast of each other.
"Kian," Talen gestures, "look at the slayers on the inside of the gate. They're not moving."
"What?" I follow his pointing finger.
"It's hard for someone to stand in place that long, wearing that kind of stuff, and not shift posture even once. That is, unless their extremely well-disciplined. From what I know of the Slayers of Vas, the guards they hire out to places like this are as disciplined as a drug addict needing a fix. They're either asleep or dead which is bad for us in either case."
I swallow hard. "Let's get moving."
Talen follows my lead, grabs hold of one of the lower branches of the oak tree, and pulls himself up. I scramble ahead of him, careful to keep a low profile, following one of the immense branches out and over the road to the roof of the Ladikan Mint. The building's as immense as they come and is made of interlinked granite blocks. Behind me, Talen races across. I wait, gazing at the cobblestoned highway that flows beneath me. It services old Ladika and the orchards and high houses of the wealthy elite. The buildings here are close-knit with the upper story hanging out over the street.
The sloping roof of the mint is made from heavy wooden shakes. It's so steep in places that Talen and I negotiate with speed only at the risk of falling. The buildings in this upper quarter are covered with granite bas-relief carvings of masks, goblins, and gargoyles. Some of them are quite ferocious.
As I round the edge of one such structure I overhear a conversation, so I crouch down to listen.
"Did you hear something?" a voice asks.
"No, it's just the wind. I wish they'd bloody hurry."
I signal back to Talen who's also heard them. Carefully, I choose my steps, winding my way up the steep incline to where I can afford a view of the two talkers.
"One Eye's expecting Constantine to show up tonight."
"He'll be here, and he'll get his just desserts. One Eye's going to challenge him to a game of blades in the old city. I hope he brings his apprentice."
"He's got an apprentice?"
"That's the rumor. Some rarified Atlantean blond kid that's supposed to be incredibly handsome."
"You serious?"
"About what?"
"Atlantean blond. That's legendary. Nykorans treasure their skin for capes, but I heard the real deal is to eat their balls. Their bloodline is filled with magic. Old myths say you starve 'em for a week and never let 'em rest while you fuck 'em bloody. Then you slice off their balls and swallow 'em whole."
"What do you get?"
"Skin that can't be cut by bladed weapons; bones that when broke, instantly mend."
"Just from eating a couple balls?"
"No, by eating a couple balls that belong to a blond Atlantean."
"That would be fuckin' cool. I think this 'supposed' apprentice then is the real deal. If he is, I'd fuck him for a week with another buddy like you IF it meant I could have that. We'd have to work in shifts. Some Timeron Knights a few years back tried to buy him from a pederast priest. Heard Constantine found out and killed them before they could get their mitts on him. Also heard he cost a fortune."
A chuckle. "So blades eh? How's he going to get Constantine to fall for that?"
"Lyran's captured two of 'em that came down from Hathaway. He's killed one of 'em already. He's got the girl and one other guy. He acts tall and self-important but he won't be concerning himself much longer when Kahket takes his spleen out."
"That witch?" the first voice says. "How can anyone trust her?"
"It's not a matter of trust. She's next in line in taking over the Night Wizard's Guild. She's not yet israfil 'cause she ain't drank the bile of Zandine yet. But once she does, she'll be unstoppable. Things'll be done a lot different when she takes over."
"Things'll be a lot different if I have unbreakable skin and bones that mend themselves."
"Amen to that."
I steel myself and clamber up the side of a chimney, which brings me just over the edge of the roof to where I can see the talkers. They both have their back to me, and there's a rope tied to a pole which stretches across a narrow alley to the top of the east wall surrounding the museum. Behind me, Talen looks up waiting for me to act. I reason that if I drop them from here, they'll fall into the alley and alert the museum guards. That's not good so I look for another way of killing them.
I decide on the bold approach.
I drop onto the roof without so much as making a single shake quaking. I cross into the shadows moving quickly to the one closest to me. I unsheathe my blade and slit the first one's throat making sure to cut his larynx. I carry through with the butt of my blade and knock the other swiftly on the side of the temple. Dazed, he falls back where I hook his neck under my boot until I can drag him up and into the shadow of the chimney.
He stares at me frightened.
"Constantine," he struggles to say.
I jab my thumb into a pressure point at the base of his neck. The point paralyzes him, yet I know he's experiencing excruciating pain. "When I let go of this pressure point, you'll not scream. You'll do as I ask. You'll tell me what I want to know. Otherwise, you're dead."
He can't even blink, but I'm sure he understands me.
I remove my finger. Blood flows down the side of his face where I struck him.
"Who's One eye?" I ask him.
"H-He's the Black Prince of Ladika," he declares, spitting up foam. "He's been waitin' for you since you took his eye three years ago."
I mull this over. This is a dangerous game in which I'm suddenly embroiled. Meanwhile Talen nods approvingly at my handiwork. "You're fast," he says, "and accurate."
"Where's the girl being held?" I ask. I decide that I don't really care about anyone else.
"She's in an old temple by the sea."
Talen nods. "Lyran uses it for his guild house. It used to be a temple to the Goddess Khaal, but it's seen better days."
My captive begins to laugh, so I press my thumb into his larynx making him cough up blood. "What's so funny?"
"Kahket means to use her in the ritual. The Black Prince has assured us that he'll kill you tonight with the aid of the bloodright."
"What's the bloodright?" I ask.
However, he looks at me deliriously, and I realize the blow to his head is more severe than I'd intended. I swear under my breath as he dies.
Talen looks at me, eyes narrow. "I don't think we should go after the jewels, Kian," he says. "All this talk about bloodrights, rituals, and sorcery can't be healthy. Especially after that last revealing bit about your balls. That's unthinkable, but I know there're sick fucks out there that'll want to castrate you for those magical properties. Look at us...we're a small town thief and a first- time assassin. Though," he adds, "I admit you're very good. However, I think there comes a time when one has to think about cutting losses."
I shake my head. "I'm not afraid of this 'Black Prince'. As for Ambrell, I'd like to leave with her. Constantine told me before he left that there was an assassin in Ladika. But, he reassured me that I was far more talented. And as for my balls, the only one privy to them is you."
Talen grins, "Thank you. But you've only been doing this kind of thing for a few hours, Kian. Try and remember, this 'One Eye's' been doing it for years. What makes you think that you can best him?"
"Because he thinks he's going to be facing Constantine. I'm not Constantine, so he won't be expecting anything that I throw at him, matter-of-factly speaking of course."
Talen mutters to himself. "Who's more at fault: the fool or the fool who follows him?"
"You don't have to come," I say, "but I've got an obligation to pull this one through."
Talen shrugs his shoulders. "I'm coming along, Kian. You're my best friend. You only get one of those in a lifetime, if you're lucky. At least, that's the way I see it."
I turn away from him then, smiling. It feels excellent to have a best friend.
Talen peers over the edge of the roof into the alley. He reaches for the rope and eases his weight onto it, making sure that his footing is good. Slowly he stands, and then with arms outstretched to either side, tightrope walks the length of it to the museum wall.
I don't have this skill.
Instead, I swing out over the alley and drop myself beneath the rope, holding onto the fibers with my fingers. I pull myself along, one arm over the other until I join him on the far side.
Talen pulls me up.
I peer down into the courtyard. It's filled with flowering bushes and trees. The facade of the museum is gothic with huge bold gables supporting the tilted roof. It's tiled in wooden shingles and decorated by old iron wind vanes. Granite carvings of unicorns and devils, their mouths open, serve as rain gutters. There's an old fountain in front of the museum, and I can see that the inside's lit by a huge fish-mouthed fireplace. The courtyard here is enclosed with a night's garment of black shadow. Not even the moonlight seems to penetrate the canopy of leaves which shelter the Museum of Karlyoun.
Talen and I lower ourselves over the edge and drop down fifteen feet into the dark. He reaches out and grips my hand because I'm sure he can't see me. I grope around a bit, getting my bearings when I hear a low rumble coming from the path by the fountain in front of the main doors.
I stay very still; Talen virtually freezes, the line of his body tight against my own. Something huge pulls itself from the shadows, waving a monstrous scorpion tail behind its feline body. It's a lion with a human head. The manticore walks forward, its claws making a clicking noise on the stones as it paces in front of the fountain.
"By the Gods," Talen breathes, "we dare not move."
A lump forms in my chest as I stare Death in the face.
I will post Chapter 16 next week. Thank you for reading.