The Long Stairs

Day Six

Penny whirled and whirled. She could see nothing. Only the dark was there to greet her. Even blind, this dance came to her without hesitation. Every movement effortless and unerring. She was the swanmay, gliding over a silver pool--her black wings unfolded.

It began ever so softly, the sound. A malignant resonance unseen, echoing on the edge of her awareness. Penny screamed a silent scream and tried to flee, but she could not. Swirling around her, the onslaught grew, closer and closer with every second.

Gnawing.

Gnashing.

Scratching.

Scraping.

Her eyes darted left to the verminous sound. She found a hundred beady red embers piercing the black curtain. She retreated, only to feel the brush of unseen tails across her ankles. A squeak made her reel around. A thousand more eyes encircled her.

The hellish chorus was unrelenting, louder and louder, drowning out all thought. Penny reeled and sobbed, heart pounding in her chest. She heard the shrill cry of Lockjaw, the same sound when his throat was torn out. She fell to the floor, a torrent of writhing rats washing over her. Looking up, she tried to scream but no sound came out. The face of Lockjaw stared back. Only it wasn't him.

"Why didn't you kill me?" He muttered, then sank his long fangs into her neck.

"No!" she sat upright in bed, her face dribbled with sweat. Everything was quiet. She was shivering, but could not tell if she was hot or cold. Hesitantly she looked around. Lockjaw and the vermin were gone, only an empty room remained. It was just another nightmare.

Had Lockjaw slept in this bed? No matter what, I can't spend another night here.

Stepping on to the wood floor, she walked over to the water basin and splashed a bit of cold water on her face. Sunlight creeping through two small windows on opposite walls suggested it was morning, just after daybreak. A couple more hours at least before any chance came of a rider or wagon passing through.

After two days of being stuck at the waypost, she knew every inch of the place. Replacements would come sometime today for the three road agents stationed here. But she doubted that any would be all too eager to let her hitch a ride. No coaches arrived yesterday, which was not uncommon—but chances were good one or two would stop on their way to the keep.

Penny dressed and then found her way to the larder. She scrapped soft butter over hard bread and then poured herself a cup of coffee. Just as she took her first sip, she heard the sound of gates swinging open. She reversed tracks to her room and quickly grabbed her pack. It was time to go.

The coach was huge, much bigger than the one she started off in. A half-dozen horses pulled this one, but it looked a slow, crawling contraption. Either the driver was a daring man, or just another dumbass who would be dead soon enough. She frowned, putting her hands on her hips as the wagon lurched to a stop. Guess it is this one or bust. Fuck, can this get any worse?

Penny spied the driver, half-expecting to see a giant of man sitting on the box. She couldn't been more wrong. There was no hiding the living skeleton who was sat before her. The frail man was just skin and bones. That was all.

Yes it can, she thought as a road agent moved up beside her.

"Is this heading further on today?" Penny asked.

"Just stopping long enough to water the horses," the road agent answered.

"Any room for one more?"