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Krampus Plot, part II
[ cont'd from here ]
She held tight to his hand as they swept through the door, the eerie light chasing them out into a gargantuan space. The door clapped shut with a boom behind them. Beneath their feet, she felt rough stone floors and the air was humid and thick. They weren't outside, because she could hear the echoes of the door ringing high above them. There was an unidentified light source emanating from somewhere overhead.
"Well, this isn't Miliways."
Alex was still walking backwards when she turned to speak to Ichabod. And it's a good thing he was close. One foot kicked back into empty air and she almost fell over the edge of the cliff into pitch blackness. She scrabbled for his arm, and caught herself before she overbalanced.
"Bloody hell..."
There was an ominous clicking sound. And then there was a noise like boulders being slid across steel plates. Beneath their feet, the floor began to shift.
She held tight to his hand as they swept through the door, the eerie light chasing them out into a gargantuan space. The door clapped shut with a boom behind them. Beneath their feet, she felt rough stone floors and the air was humid and thick. They weren't outside, because she could hear the echoes of the door ringing high above them. There was an unidentified light source emanating from somewhere overhead.
"Well, this isn't Miliways."
Alex was still walking backwards when she turned to speak to Ichabod. And it's a good thing he was close. One foot kicked back into empty air and she almost fell over the edge of the cliff into pitch blackness. She scrabbled for his arm, and caught herself before she overbalanced.
"Bloody hell..."
There was an ominous clicking sound. And then there was a noise like boulders being slid across steel plates. Beneath their feet, the floor began to shift.
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"In this scenario, I think the less space we can be occupying, the better."
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"Yeah, okay. I think..."
She turns her head to look, keeping close while walking. The slabs of rock are shifting, sliding passed one another, and the overlap between the two looked like it could get down to only a few feet wide.
"Right, we're heading that way. See?" She points up to the ceiling. There seem to be chains hanging down in a line. "This is starting to look familiar. Come on!"
She takes his hand again and makes for the crossing before it slides away. The stones are slick with water, and the other patch of floor is moving in the other direction, so she has to catch her balance again.
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He steadies her automatically.
"Familiar? You've been here before?"
He can only think it's a similar thing to his house.
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She keeps moving, pointing ahead to the path. The pattern is easy to see once you know where to look.
"It was about a group of dwarves who stole a map of Time from the Supreme Being. And they were being chased from place to place."
They have to stop, wobbling as the plate shifted directions. "See those cages up there?" High, high above them, there are a series of wrought iron cages hanging from chains. In one, he can barely make out what appears to be a skeleton. "Yeah, Tower of Evil, I think it was. Only they had to jump from cage to cage. God I hope this doesn't spit us out where I think it will. Come on."
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Ichabod obeys - and then shifts rapidly to one side as the floor begins to crumble under his feet.
"So this is... the Tower of Evil. Well, that certainly leaves no room for ambiguity."
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She throws her weight back, tugging him back from the edge. When he's steady, she gives him a cheeky grin.
"If we get out of here without being turned into swine, I will consider it a victory."
The slab they're on is stationary, and beyond, the floor tiles get much smaller, from ten metres down to one. Gaps are opening and closing much more quickly now.
"Ah, damn it. You up for a run?"
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"I think it would be the most sensible idea", he agrees quickly, slipping his arm through hers for a more secure link in case one or both of them is thrown off balance again.
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They're almost across to another large slab when she feels the stone give way beneath her feet. Before she can leap away, there's nothing but empty air under her, and he's the only thing she's holding onto.
"Oh god Ichabod!"
The fall breaks her link with him and she hits the edge of the slab hard enough to knock the wind out of her.
When she opens her eyes, she's hanging by one hand, and she can feel his grip around her wrist like an iron manacle. Her feet fumble with the edge of the granite slab and she finds just the barest bit of outcrop to stand on. It's only enough to get a toe on, but it's all she's got.
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"I've got you." He stretches down with his free hand, trying to reach hers. "Hold on. I'll pull you up."
Or... he hopes.
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"Take your time. Not going anywhere." Her breath is ragged, and she's hurt. He can hear it in her voice.
He catches her free hand in his, and she almost shouts for joy. With both hands wrapped around his, all she can do is hold on with all her might.
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"All right. All right." He keeps his voice low and soothing. "I've got you, nice and secure. Now..."
Very carefully, he starts edging backwards.
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Another bit of the edge gives way and she shouts as it jerks her against his hold. She's trying to get a toehold again, but he's her only lifeline.
Her arms are screaming in pain, and she's groaning through clenched teeth. Another inch, and another, and it looks like he can almost reach her coat and get a more secure grip.
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"I'm sorry", he apologizes for hurting her even as he keeps pulling her up - and then, with one hand, he does latch onto her coat. The other remains firmly gripping her wrist.
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It's probably the longest minute of her life, but he manages to get her close enough to the edge she can squirm her way up. Largely using him as a ladder, in fact. She uses every ounce of upper body strength she can muster, and with his help, she hauls herself up over the edge.
Which leaves the two of them sprawled together on the wet, stone floor, shaking with exertion.
"I won't tell anyone about this," she pants, "if you won't."
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"It will remain forever between us." He looks over the edge, and shudders. "Can you walk?"
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She still has hold of his coat lapel and it may take her a moment to force her hand to uncurl. When she can manage, she rolls to one side, hissing.
"I think I cracked a rib."
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"There is little I can do, unless - would you like a wrapping? A shirt sleeve might do."
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"I'm afraid, I need it. If I'm going to be of any use to you."
She jerks a thumb over her shoulder at the last hundred metres before the stone archway at the end of the room.
"We're not through yet."
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Ichabod is already shucking off his coat - and then his shirt, and puts the coat back on, because it's cold, and begins ripping at the seams of the shirt.
"Let's see, then."
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"I keep forgetting you were a soldier. You've done this before. More than once, if I had to guess."
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"I have", he confirms, aiming to distract her as well. "More often it was to staunch bleeding than to bind a broken rib, but I've seen many injuries in my time."
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"Tight as you can," she says, grimacing. "The tighter the better."
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"I know."
Neither of them is going to enjoy this, but he begins - the better to get it over with quickly.
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"Thank you. I owe you a bottle of your favourite rum, Mr. Crane. Now, what's say you help me up and we get the hell out of here?"
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"Barbadian Best Amber", he says promptly, and holds out a hand. "Onwards."
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She slips her arm through his, and nods that she's ready.
The last hundred yards might as well have been a mile for as fast as they covered it, but they did it without further bodily injuries, and no one got turned into a swine.
Victory.
The last leap took them to an arch over a dark doorway. The door itself was massive, twenty feet high, and had an iron ring to match. Alex stood back and looked at Ichabod.
"There's no place like home?"
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"Hold on to that thought."
And he opens the door.