I run to the billowing dust, cupping a hand to my mouth. “Jude! Jude!”
“Pell, stop! You can’t go back in there.” Irik puts a meaty hand on my shoulder.
I jerk it off as I whirl around, teeth bared. “Don’t tell me what to do. Some friend you are.”
“What, you want to get yourself killed, too?” He throws up his hands.
“We have to try and save him.”
“At least wait until the tremor ends, geez.”
As if on command, the shaking stops. It’s probably lasted all of a few seconds but my heart’s racing full out. I glare at Irik. “Happy, your highness? Now shall we?”
He frowns, but for once doesn’t reply.
I whirl back around, not waiting to see if the idiot follows. I’ll find Jude by myself if I have to.
Dust clouds the stairway, making my light bounce back to little effect, but I can just make out two stairs and head down.
“Jude!” Only silence greets me.
Counting the steps as I go, I make it to step fifty by the time the dust begins to thin.
“Jude!”
Irik’s boots scuffling behind me, along with my own, are the only sounds.
I sneeze and Irik coughs as we make our way down until at last we find the bottom. The limestone debris from Irik’s work earlier remains and I stumble. Only his meaty paws keep me standing.
“Easy there.”
Amazing, the situation has actually made the idiot a tiny bit helpful.
“Thank you,” I say, glancing back at him before continuing.
“Jude, where are you?” Irik calls.
Rounding the corner I let out a squeak as my beam finds Jude’s still and bloody arm sticking out from beneath a limestone block that’s crushing his right side.
“Jude!” I pick my way across the rubble field as quickly as I can, then hold my breath as I feel for a pulse along his neck.
Please be alive, please. Only those steady metallic eyes buoy me.
There! A pulse! I exhale. “He’s alive!”
Irik moves to Jude’s other side, kneels, and reaches for the block.
“No, don’t lift it. If he has internal injuries he can bleed out if you remove the pressure.”
“Jude, Jude.” I run my hand along his jaw. “Wake up. Wake up, Jude.”
“We need help,” Irik says. “You stay with him, and I’ll rally the guys.”
I can only bob my head as he lumbers back across the limestones and takes off up the stairs.
I pick up Jude’s free hand. “You’re going to be okay. Irik’s gone to get help. They’ll be here soon.” This and more I babble to calm myself.
The dust clears and I scan the ceiling to find where the block that’s impaling Jude fell from. I suppose I should have checked it out first, but…
I squint and spot two adjoining blocks at the peak shifted out of alignment; they’re lower than their neighbors and leave a dark hole.
I gasp. Another good shake and they can easily follow.
Come on, Irik, move it.
Jude moans, drawing my attention back in time to see him shift his head.
“Jude, it’s Pell. You’ve had an accident, but you’re going to be okay.” I squeeze his free hand hoping to emphasize the point.
Pain laces his face as he eases his eyes open and finds me. His voice is strained and soft as he says, “If I’m… going… to be… fine… why… are you… holding… my hand?” He attempts a smile.
I nearly put it down but stop myself. “Because it’s your lucky day. It’s hold your boss’s hand day.”
“You’re… a terrible… liar.”
“So I’ve been told a time or two.”
We exchange smiles, then let silence win for several minutes.
Come on, Irik. Move it, move it, move it.
“Pell…”
“Shhh, Jude, don’t strain yourself.”
He moves his head. “Would you… read me… that… other scroll?”
I inhale sharply, then squeeze his hand. “Oh, come on, Jude, there’ll be time for that later. Now rest.”
My worst nightmare. My boss injured and in questionable condition, and now he wants me to read that damn scroll. First that guy in Egypt munched by the sphinx and now this. Nothing but pain comes from those scrolls.
He shakes his head, exerting more effort. “No, Pell… now… I… want…”
I put a finger across his lips, but he turns his head aside.
“Please… I have… to know.”
“You’re going to be fine.” I squeeze his hand again.
Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me read it.
“Pell…” His tone turns pleading.
I look into his eyes and his pained expression nearly kills me. “Okay, Jude, okay.”
He smiles, then closes his eyes.
No, no, no, no. “Hey Jude, you have to stay awake.”
He opens his eyes again.
“If I’m going to read it, you have to keep your eyes open. Deal?”
“I’ll… try.”
His breathing’s growing more labored. Where the hell is Irik?
“Eyes open,” I remind as I rise.
The stairway is silent as I make my way the twelve steps over to the second scroll and kneel.
“You still awake, Jude?”
A grunt.
“I’m holding you to your promise.” I try to mix humor with my words, but I doubt I succeed.
Like the other scroll, this one has just three lines. Unlike the other, the title has disintegrated over time. I could mistranslate this one, Jude would never know, but I don’t have the bandwidth to make something up, not with him like this.
“There’s no title on this one, Jude. Jude, you staying awake for me?”
Another grunt. “Good. Okay, here goes. ‘I sought the throne when it was not mine.’ Oh, political intrigue. What do you think, Jude? Jude?”
At least it’s a person, not some wild ass creature.
“Read…” It comes out a wheeze.
Damn it, Irik. You building the
