The Demon's Den

the excuses began.

'That little shake we had earlier was worse up there. What's left of the tunnels could go at any minute. We barely got Neegan out when one of the last supports collapsed.'

'You couldn't get to him.'

It wasn't a question. Not really. If they'd been able to get to him, they'd have brought him back.

'Him, her. We couldn't even keep the lanterns lit.'

Someone tossed their gear to the floor. 'You know what it's like up there during a storm; the wind howling through all those cracks and crevasses....'

Ari heard Dyril sigh, heard wood creak as he dropped onto a bench. 'We'll go back in the morning. Maybe when we can see....'

Memories were thick in the silence.

'If it's as bad as all that, the Herald's probably dead anyway.'

'He's alive!' Ari shouted over the murmur of agreement. Oh, sure, they'd feel better if they thought the Herald was dead, if they could convince themselves they hadn't left him there to die, but she wasn't going to let them off so easily.

'You don't know that.'

'The Companion knows it!' She bludgeoned them with her voice because it was all she had. 'He came to you for help!'

'And we did what we could! The Queen'll understand. The Den's taken too many lives already for us to throw more into it.'

'Do you think I don't know that?' She could hear the storm throwing itself against the outside of the house but nothing from within. It almost seemed as though she were suddenly alone in the room. Then she heard a bench pushed back, footsteps approaching.

'Who else do you want that mine to kill?' Dyril asked quietly. 'We lost three getting you out. Wasn't that enough?'

It was three too many, she wanted to say. If you think I'm grateful, think again. But the words wouldn't come. She swung down off her bench and hand-walked along the wall to the ladder in the corner. Stairs were difficult but with only half a body to lift, she could easily pull herself, hand over hand, from rung to rung — her arms and shoulders were probably stronger now than they'd ever been. Adults couldn't stand in the loft so no one bothered her there.

'We did all we could,' she heard Dyril repeat wearily, more to himself than to her. She supposed she believed him. He was a good man. They were all good people. They wouldn't leave anyone to die if they had any hope of getting them out.

She was trapped with four others, deep underground. They could hear someone screaming, the sound carried on the winds that howled through the caves and passages around the mine.

By the time they could hear rescuers frantically digging with picks and shovels, there were only three of them still alive. Ari hadn't been able to feel her legs for some time, so when they pried enough rubble dear to get a rope through, she forced her companions out first The Demon's Den had been her mine and they were used to following her orders.

Then the earth moved again and the passage dosed. She lay there, alone, listening to still more death carried on the winds and wishing she'd had the courage to tell them to leave her. To get out while they still could.

'Papa, what happened to the Companion?'

'He's still out there. Brandon tried to bring him into the stable and got a nasty bite for his trouble.'

Ari moved across the loft to the narrow dormer and listened. Although the wind shrieked and whistled around the roof, she could hear the frenzied cries of the Companion as he pounded through the settlement, desperately searching for someone who could help.

'Who else do you want that mine to kill?'

She dug through the mess on the floor for a leather strap and tied her hair back off her face. Her jacket lay crumpled in a damp pile where she'd left it, but that didn't matter. It'd be damper still before she was done.