These Old Bones

5-2

He moved, his shoulder bouncing from the tunnel sides as he headed deeper. He couldn't hear the hisses or screeches of the Nightcrawlers any more and he wondered if he had lost his hearing. He reached up to his ear, his fingers, held in front of his face had blood upon them. His nose, likewise, had bled. He couldn't worry about that now. He needed to find the girl.

Shuffling, he moved. Deeper, further. Had he been walking for a few seconds or for hours? His head swam forcing him to vomit once more, or, at least, to try. Nothing emerged. His stomach empty, but still he retched. He wondered if he was dying. Whether the claw of the Nightcrawler was as full of poison as its venomous tongue, or whether it was only a simple concussion. Either way, he couldn't stop moving. Stepping one foot in front of the other.

He reached a wider area. A congregation point for the ancient miners before delving further into their ill-fated mine works. Something crunched underfoot and he aimed the torch towards the ground. A Nightcrawler, broken, its insides leaking from a cracked, shattered carapace. And there, against the wall, another and another. He counted eight of the beasts, at least. All dead. All looking as if a great hand had crushed them against the walls of the tunnel.

Several holes in the walls had most like held the creatures. Their own tunnels connecting the mine tunnels, but no live Nightcrawlers streamed from the holes. The tunnels were in silence and dead. Taking a deep breath, he started towards the next phase of the tunnels, but then stopped. Something caught his eye, against the wall, half-covered by a dead Nightcrawler. The edge of a cloak.

He fell to his knees, resting the torch against the wall, and pushed the Nightcrawler to the side. The thing split into two halves, but he uncovered what he was searching for. The girl had huddled herself, as she had back at the site where he had first found her. He had almost missed her because of that damned black cloak! He checked her breathing and she yet lived. Thanking the Patrons, he lifted her into his arms, non-too gentle. Gathering her to his chest, and squeezed her tight.

He stood, surprised at how light she weighed. So light, that he could hold her with one arm and be able to pick up and carry the torch. With renewed vigour, Brorzjav turned and began the long, weary journey back to the surface.

He felt the girl's steady heartbeat against his chest and he found comfort and strength in that. Even that, though, did nothing to assuage his fear that the Nightcrawlers would return. He doubted the creatures would take long before gathering their little wits and begin the relentless pursuit of the tasty food on offer within his and Viriili's bodies. That delicious marrow within their bones that the Nightcrawlers would delight in. Stripping away the flesh and discarding it, cracking their bones into pieces.

Brorzjav felt lucky there had been no other side-tunnels on his way into the mine. With his head feeling as it did and having to carry Viriili, he didn't think he had it in him to navigate a maze. A straight-forward run to the exit was welcome, he only had to keep walking. To focus on that and only that. Not worrying about the Nightcrawlers. Or that he could mount almost no defence with the little one in his arms. He couldn't think about Tiera and whether she survived.

He had one focus. One purpose. To get the girl to safety.

He reached the first junction and stopped. The torchlight caught a shape against the wall and several more upon the ground. He swept the light around to see three Nightcrawlers, all battered, broken and lifeless and Tiera sat against the wall, her eyes closed, blood covering her face and the mace dangling from her fingers. As the light flickered over her face, her eyes shot open.

"Ah. Found her." Tiera's eyes half-closed and her head lolled against her shoulder before she shivered, shaking herself awake. "I had a little trouble, myself. There were lots more but something scared them away."

"Can you walk?" Brorzjav looked over his shoulder, back down the tunnel. He thought he heard something.

"Don't know. I don't feel too good." She raised a hand showing several puncture wounds on her palm. "Poison. I grabbed one of their tongues, pulled it right out of its Patrons damned head. More fool me, huh?"

"Shut up and grab the torch." He held out the torch for her hand and she grasped it with a weak grip. It would have to do. She pushed herself up the wall. "Leave the mace and put your arm around my shoulder."

"I will not!" Tiera slurred her words, but she held onto the mace as she fell against him, wrapping her arm across his shoulders. "A friend gave me this once. He'd be proper cross if I lost it. Do you know him? He looks a bit like you, but you're much older. He's only about seventy."

Brorzjav grabbed Tiera around the waist using what little strength he had left to lift her. He bounced Viriili in his other arm, adjusting his grip of the girl, and then began carrying them both back towards the surface.

He didn't know if they could make it. Was certain they couldn't. If it was difficult carrying the girl, now that burden had tripled with the almost dead weight of Tiera on his other arm. He forced himself onwards, though. It was all he could do. His old legs could do this, even if they never did anything ever again. He could feel the twinge in his knees, the ache in his hips. He couldn't let that stop him. Couldn't let anything stop him.

They passed the second junction faster than he expected. He almost felt reenergised at the thought. Not far now. He could hear movement behind him. Far behind? A little behind? It didn't matter. All that mattered was walking. One step. Another step. One more. Another. One after the other.

And then he saw the light of the entrance up ahead.

"Not far now, Tiera! Keep going!" He grunted through gritted teeth.

The sounds were louder. The hisses and the screeches. The scuttling and the click-clacking of those sharp claws against stone, the thuds against soil. Scritchings and scratchings just behind his ear.

He thrust his chin forward. Not looking anywhere but at that light. That shining light.

And they were free!

Blinded by the sunlight, protected by its warm embrace and the fear of that light for the Nightcrawlers who would never walk in its shining rays. Brorzjav carried on for longer, though, dragging Tiera along to where the Pony Rider's horse awaited her.

"We did it! We made it, Tiera!" But the young warrior woman couldn't hear him. She had been limp in his arm for a long time.

As gentle as possible, he laid Tiera down and then laid Viriili beside her. Scrambling around, he held his ear against Tiera's chest. She lived, but for how long, he couldn't tell. Her skin had lost all colour, sweat poured from her brow. The poison moved fast through her veins.

"I called for you." Viriili had awoken, raising up, holding her head. "I called and called. For you and Tiera. But I didn't know your name. I never asked your name!"

Viriili launched herself up towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder.