Page 73 of A Rare Find

“Is anything in there?” they asked, breathless. “Watch out for bats, and badgers.” They giggled. “And bandits.”

Her elbow connected with their ribs. “Get the lantern.”

They scrambled from the pit, staggered through the ferns to the boat. Leaves whipped past. Wind was bending the trees. A raindrop splashed the corner of their mouth. They had to hunch with the tinderbox to light the candle.

When they passed it down to Elf, she looked at them, and it seemed candles were lit, too, behind the dark panes of her eyes.

She swung back to the fissure, holding out the lantern. “It keeps going.” She sounded muted. She was sending her voice down the tunnel, sending it after the lantern’s wan rays.

“Tomorrow,” they said. “Tomorrow we’ll…”

They were addressing her skirts, the soles of her shoes.

Their heart stopped. Time stopped.

But of course. Of course.

She vanished into the mountainside.

“Elf!” Their shout was drowned by a crash of thunder. They felt another raindrop, and another, and tilted up their face. The sky was livid.

“Blast,” they muttered. “Blast, blast, blast.”

They dropped into the pit, stuck their head gingerly through the jagged crack. The blackness within dizzied them. Their palms were sweating as they inched forward.

“Elf, it’s raining. It’s dark. Come out.” The back of their skull grazed stone. They had to lower onto their belly, slither like a snake. The stone hemmed them in on every side. It didn’t matter anymore if their eyes were open or closed. Irregularities in the floor, the ceiling, the walls, jabbed them in tender places, grated on their bones. Their breath sawed in their ears. One moment, they felt certain they’d be crushed, pressed flat by the weight of the bluff itself. The next, they felt certain they’d plummet, that they were sliding to the edge of an abyss. They stopped moving, every muscle cramped with horror. This was the third possibility. They’d remain trapped, just so, immobile, unable to force their body forward or back. Something tiny and frantic inside them began to run in wild circles. They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t breathe. Something tiny and frantic inside them was screaming, and there was no way to cut off that scream, no way to inhale.

“Georgie?”

“Elf?” They gave a convulsive gasp, sucked in a clammy mouthful of air.

“Georgie?”

They squirmed, dragging themselves onward with their elbows.

“It ends here.” Elf’s voice was muffled but normal, a lifeline. “You can almost stand. It’s a chamber, a small one though. Not quite two arm spans across. I couldn’t keep the lantern upright, so the candle went out. Do you have the tinderbox?”

“No,” they grunted. The walls had pulled away. The ceiling had lifted. They were breathing more easily, but chills rippled their flesh. “Wouldn’t fire eat up the air? Is there any air in here? God, it’s stagnant.” Their chest bucked. “Let’s leave. This isn’t the place.”

“I suppose not.” Elf was notably reluctant.

They’d already rotated, crawling, then again slithering, for the opening. They needed to stretch out, to feel the wind moving over their skin.

They strained to see, eyes wide open, eager for the first glimpse of faded daylight.

There it was. A gray glimmer.

And then a wave of black came down.

And there was none.

—

Elfreda’s forehead struck a shoe. Georgie was blocking the tunnel.

“You’re standing on my face.” She wiggled backward. “Well, you’re not standing, but…Go on. Why have you stopped?”

Georgie uttered a string of profanities.