Cursed: Traitor's Trail

Chapter 7 Part 2

Suddenly, it occurred to her that there were bigger concerns than the king's men. A second scream, nearly the same as the first confirmed her feelings.

Praying that the men and whatever else was down there would distract each other, she slipped out of her little nook and tried desperately to remember which direction she came from. She wound her way through a few recognizable passages before arriving in a new unfamiliar opening. Great. She paused, wondering whether to push forward or turn back. This was taking too long. She needed to get out of the cavern, now. There hadn't been any more telling sounds since the second scream and she was sure time ran out. Something won the battle and she didn't want to find out who – or what.

The light from above vaguely lit the ceiling of the cavern, from which she determined a general direction of the great slide.

She eyed two openings across from her that looked as though they might lead through the rubble and not just to dead ends. It should have occurred to her before, but these tunnels looked used, as though something frequented them, often.

She debated, climbing up to the top might provide an advantage; giving a longer range of sight. But then she worried that being higher would also make her more visible. She shook her head, visible was bad. No, discretion certainly served her better.

Trying to scan for movement from all directions, she made her way around the large opening, keeping her back toward the walls—if they could be called that. Even less light fell here and she felt exposed and vulnerable. She stepped toward the largest tunnel, taking a guess at the best route It had just as much chance ending before her desired goal, but she had to pick a direction.

She made it half way around the opening, and was picking her way over a small pile of stones, when a force hit her from behind. She crashed to the ground for the second time that day, her ribs cracking with the weight of whatever landed on top of her. Tiny rocks beneath her dug into her flesh, leaving pebble sized bruises. She stiffened and prepared for death, sure some demon above prepared to nibble her head off. Instead, she found herself being roughly hauled to standing by a firm hand, gloved with leather, which did little to soften its owner's grip.

“There you are,” the voice of the tracker growled softly at her. His anger was palpable. “It is you I hold responsible for the death of Agnar and Torik. I will enjoy watching Theron inflict your fate; may you go as painfully as they did.”

Oh, that did not sound good.

Probably, she should have kept her mouth closed. That kind of anger wasn't prone to reason. Instead, she spoke out defensively.

“My fault? I didn't tell you to follow me in here. You're chasing the wrong person, anyway. I have done nothing to harm you or these men you speak of.”

He wrapped his massive hands around her upper arms, squeezing until she felt the bruises forming under his fingers.

“Understand this, witch. Your kind...,” he spat on her, a great gob of saliva trailing down the dust on her face, “is what brings evil unto this world. Everything you do leads to evil and the only way to stop it is to eliminate you. All of you. And that is what my king will do.” He leaned his disgusted face next to hers, baring his teeth, “and for Agnar's sake, I will enjoy watching.”

Well, what could she say to that? The fact that she learned the same things all her life tempered any angered response. She learned them and she had believed them. Only a recent alteration in her experiences changed that.

“You first,” the man growled, pushing her ahead of him into the second passage.

Except, going first was not her plan. She didn't want to be the one to stumble on whatever killed Agnar. Plus, only thin shafts of light floated down and dark shadows cast about where she couldn't be sure if a demon awaited or not. It didn't seem as though her captor would be keen on negotiation, so she went, but moved slow, cautious of everything, watching for any flicker of movement. The man prodded her.

“Quickly,” he whispered harshly, “for God's sake, I want out of here in this lifetime.”

She took another step and halted. Was that a flash of white she saw through the rubble? Or a trick of the moonlight? Something told her that their current path was treacherous.

“Go,” he insisted, but she hesitated.

“Did you see...?”

“Woman, I will kill you now and tell Theron the demon got you if you do not move your arse!”

She took a step, and another, sure she had seen something. She passed a dark section of the tunnel and the little hairs on her arms began to rise.

A tiny puff of breeze whiffed by that didn't belong in that tight airless place. Just as she turned her head to the source, a flash of white to her left urged her to dive to the ground. A dark furry body with a white underbelly and gleaming eyes flew above her and landed against the rubble on the opposite side of the narrow passage.

“What...?” The king's man nearly dropped his sword as the long slender weasel flipped over agilely, nearly knocking his heavy frame to the ground next to her.

She fought the urge to turn and run, terrified to make herself a target and expose her back to the beast.

“Arrrgh!”

The demon nipped behind the man's leg armor, leaving an evil looking slash that seeped blood over his thigh and onto the floor. Sharp teeth gleamed. The creature disappeared down the passage they came from. For half a second, things went deadly still and then it appeared from a side passage, leaping for the man's neck. He raised his sword to block it and managed to push the beast back, barely.

She had to get out of there. She knew it. But it felt wrong leaving the man to defend himself.

She would be useless in battle, weaponless and bound, but there must be something she could do. She cast about in a sporadic way, but in her hysterical state, nothing came to mind except that plenty of loose stones littered the floor. Could she use that? She dove for the ground, grasping in the dark for the heaviest rock her fingers bumped into.

The demon stalked the man now, stepping forward deliberately, and forcing him back into a corner, while avoiding the swinging of the sword with adept gracefulness. The thing was clever, and both stronger and quicker than any man. It easily out-paced and outmaneuvered them, and it seemed intent on wearing the man down, marking it intelligent, as well. There was no way either of them would beat it with fighting skill alone.

Could she trick it somehow? The beam of wood from the tunnel popped into her mind, the one that perched precariously, ready to topple upon any who sauntered beneath it. The weight might kill the beast if it dropped at the right time.

She watched the sleek creature as it dodged at the man...such a slim chance, maybe she should just run. But the man's words still echoed in her mind; his unfair accusations finding a place in her soul.

She was not evil.

She dropped the rubble she held and picked up a small pebble instead, and waiting for the demon to feint right, tossed it at the man, hitting him squarely on the shoulder. He didn't dare take his eyes from the clever animal, but she had part of his attention.

“Give me a few moments and then run straight down the tunnel to the left, the one with the big beam.” She called to him, and then, not waiting to see if he heard or acknowledged, she backed out of the demon's sight and ran fast and hard. Twice, she tripped, sprawling to the floor among stones that were sharper than she remembered. If her plan didn't work, the demon would easily sniff out the blood on her hands and arms. She shook that thought away, this had to work, but it would take all of her focus, no time for thoughts about what if.

Aya pushed on, farther down the path, before realizing that the beam was not straight in that direction, as she thought. It was a short distance away, down an offshoot of the trail she ran on. She had confused the way in her mind.

Now, her survival depended on whether the king's man was clever enough to find the beam with faulty directions. I hope you're watching God. If this didn't prove she didn't deserve to be damned, she didn't know what would.