Hand over hand, the climb is excruciating slow, yet the branch hangs in there, as if it knows this is the only lifeline I have.
“Please…” I infuse urgency into my request. “Help me,” I say to the tree, and pour some life energy into the sleeping blackjack oak. Anything to keep the branch from separating from the tree.
Riddle runs back and forth on the branch, chittering the entire time, urging me on.
My waist is free, and I have a solid grasp on the bark. I’m going to make it.
A terrible cracking sound echoes into the forest as the branch snaps, and I fall back into the Pit Monster’s grasp. The branch lies beside me in the sand, useless and… dead.
Sand snakes over it and starts to suck it underneath. I lift my leg, fighting the pull of the Pit Monster, my muscles growing tired. Even hidden under the sand, I can get my knee over the branch and haul myself up, though I feel as if I’m prolonging the inevitable.
The branch does help. It slows my descent. But the Pit Monster isn’t giving up on me. The weight of sand slaps against my sides. It’s like a wild pig-sized sandhog trying to push me down. It’s effective. My shoulders get covered. A gelatinous, gritty arm wraps behind my neck and pulls down. My face touches the dirt, but I bow my head, slip through, and use the branch that’s underneath me to push off and lurch backward.
Riddle is flapping in the air above me, trying to reach down and grab my hair, anything to try to pull me up. The sand monster tosses waves of silt towards me. I’m covered to my chest and sinking.
My muscles are burning. I’ve used all my energy in getting out of the pit. My muscles are strained, and now it takes ten times more effort to even raise my hand. That, combined with the heavy sand pulling my body under and the squeeze of the monster, makes me tired. As the divide of air to sand separates at my neck, and my arms are covered in wet goo, my struggle seems impossible.
The chittering of Riddle keeps me awake, but the slow press on my chest makes my breathing shallow. Finally, when my head goes underneath the sand and my hands are the only things that can still feel air, I hold my breath for as long as I can.
A twinge of pain strikes my fingers. It feels like a cobra strike.
Thumps vibrate the ground. A thin vine snakes around my neck and pulls. I can’t hold my breath, and the last lungful of oxygen I have pushes out. Air doesn’t go back in. I claw at the thick cord around my throat, thinking it’s trying to yank me all the way under.
Grit covers my eyes, but I’m pulled above the sand.
As soon as my head clears the sand, I take a huge breath in and open my eyes. And I see…
Ms. Fernren?
She’s in full blight mode. She lies on top of the pit trap, trying to haul me out. Several creepers extend from her leaf-like dress. One of those vines holds me by my throat, pulling me up while eight others slap at the sand monster. The ends of her lianas are Venus flytraps, biting and smacking the ground. Sand is displaced. Her arms are covered in rose thorns that dig into the sand, giving her purchase to move in the gelatinous pool.
More of her vines slither down her dress and wrap under my arms. The one around my neck releases me.
I suck in air, panting.
Ms. Fernren’s shocked expression is as surprising as her concern. Even if she’s a blight, even if she was created for war, to hurt and destroy, to fight and maim, she’s the most beautiful thing in the world right now.
She reminds me of a squid with all her vine limbs, each smacking the ground, biting at the waves of sand, and pulling me to solid ground. “Did any of it get in your mouth?”
I shake my head. “No. I held my breath.”
“Good.” Ms. Fernren is in the pit, too, but she knows how to get out, obviously, as she must live here.
Riddle is cheering her on, flapping above in the canopy, shaking loose dead twigs. Sand engulfs the loose debris raining down.
“Good boy!” Ms. Fernren says. “Keep distracting it.”
Slowly, as Ms. Fernren fights the Pit Monster off, I kick my legs, doing my best to try to help.
“No, just go limp.” She grits her teeth and grunts. “If you fight, it will pull you.”
I nod and use my arms to hold on to her outstretched vines and pull myself towards her. My effort isn’t insignificant.
Thwack, thwack. Thwack, thwack. Her vine protectors beat at the sand Pit Monster, and we slowly pull away from its grasp.
She grabs me and hauls me away from the pit trap. Riddle lands next to me and teeter-walks towards me. Then he squawks and lands on my shoulder.
“Good job, Riddle.” I can’t believe I’m alive.
“Good job, indeed,” Ms. Fernren huffs. “If I hadn’t recognized him, I’d have thought you were just another lost Merluka taken prey. This isn’t the Enlightened Forest, Ms. Stillwater. What are you doing here?”
My eyes widen in surprise. “You saved me.”
“Of course I saved you.” She gives me an affronted scoff. “You’re a student of the academy, and the guest of Count Jean-Claude Von Zarovich.” She looks around. “Who, by the way, would be furious if he knew you were here.”
He probably would.
“Thank you, Ms. Fernren… thank you for saving me.” I give her a nod and manage a smile as I continue to pant. I’m exhausted. I try to get up.
