Listen to “Unbound” narrated by Angus Freathy!

The adventurers entered the entrance to our cave carrying torches, their sweaty, fleshy faces lit by the dancing flames. One was tall and lean, bald head gleaming like a radiant beacon. The second was shorter, almond hues against a mass of black curls.

I was thrilled. It was hell to get here. I hadn’t planned for two candidates, but my odds were already looking better. I just needed one to pull the dagger and release me.

“Which way, Patrick?” the shorter one asked.

“I don’t know,” Patrick said. He held out his arm to cast the light further down the passage to the right. I studied his face while he studied the passage. A wrinkled brow and crows feet from a life well lived, his face could have been carved from the caverns he studied, so determined, so full of purpose.

Patrick shuffled to the left and examined the other passage. One led to the coveted dagger. One led to death. It was a simple trick. If he chose the right, my brethren would blow out the torches at the slide, and down they would go off the drop. There was an impressive collection of bones at the bottom.

I threw a stone down the right passage. It scuttled across the floor, sliding off the sharp incline. The men’s faces stretched with surprise. I savored their comical expressions before focusing on the business ahead. It only got harder.

“Left,” Patrick said.

“What? What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t really want to check it out. Do you, Aaron?”

Aaron shook his head. “Let’s just get the damn knife and get out.”

Patrick grinned. “You that excited to face the sirens again? I think the brunette has it in for you.”

“Shut up,” Aaron mumbled. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the left passage. 

Patrick took the lead again. “You know, she wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the razor-sharp teeth.”

Aaron followed behind Patrick, casting glances over his shoulder, looking right through me. “We should never have taken this job,” Aaron said.

Patrick shrugged his shoulders, the light bobbing against the cavern walls. “Little late now. Besides, we almost made it.”

The passage opened up as the floor dropped away. Patrick and Aaron placed their packs on the floor. They were quiet. Aaron stretched his back and massaged his shoulder. “Well, we’ve got the rock formations. We’ve got spikes lining the floor below,” Aaron began.

“Well, yeah, of course you’ve got spikes. No big deal,” Patrick interrupted, leaning out over the edge to get a better look. He pointed, “That guy didn’t make it. Does he have a spear sticking out of him?”

Aaron walked over to join Patrick. “Shit. He does. Okay. Spikes, don’t fall. Watch out for spears. We jump the rock formations over there, and then we climb along the wall to the podium thing.”

Patrick smiled. “Like I said. No big deal. You think you can make the jumps?”

Aaron scowled. “You think you can make the climb?”

Patrick laughed. “We’ll see.”

Aaron returned to his pack and fished out his climbing spikes. He slid them inside his pouch and tied it around his waist. “Let’s do it then.”

Patrick finished tying his pack. “Ready.”

Patrick backed up into the passage to get a running start, and then he was off. Grace and speed, he stuck the landing perfectly. The iron-tipped spear fired from the wall, but I was ready too. I knocked the spear off course.

The murmuring began, surprise turning to outrage. They were not happy.

“Did you see that?” Patrick shouted. “That thing almost killed me.”

“What happened? Why didn’t it?” Aaron called.

“I don’t know, but now we know what triggers the spears,” Patrick said. He bent over, panting as he placed his hands on his knees. “Okay. Jump to me.”

Aaron made the jump, clearing it with an awkward thump. “Can we trigger the next one with your climbing pack? We could throw it to the next rock.”

Patrick cocked his head. “No way. If I miss, I can’t make it across the wall.”

Aaron shook his head. “It’s not that far. I won’t miss.” He untied his pack and gingerly stepped to the edge, scanning the walls for an opening for the next spear. He began swinging the pack back and forth. In one smooth motion, Aaron tossed the pack onto the next rock, triggering the next spear. 

The sweet taste of relief coursed through me. Patrick and Aaron would make it to the wall without me. I could feel pressure from all sides. The others pressed into me, sighing angry curses. I made myself small, chastised. I did something the others never thought to do, I pretended.

It took time, but both men made it to the wall. They were panting as they sank down to rest.

“I can climb this,” Patrick murmured to himself.

“You can climb this,” Aaron said. He stood up and ran his hand along the ragged surface of the wall. “It really doesn’t look that bad.”

Patrick snorted and stood up. “You like to climb.”

Aaron pulled out his spikes and line. “I’ll go first. Just follow me.”

Patrick took a deep breath. “Just follow you. No big deal.”

They began the climb. Aaron was careful but quick, a natural. Patrick’s body was steady as he climbed, but his breathing was shaky.

The others would do what sometimes had to be done. They would blow the men off the wall. It was the worst task. It took a great deal of concentration and effort. The air in the cave began to stir, dust taking flight as the breeze picked up.

“What’s happening,” Patrick said.

Aaron froze against the wall. “I don’t know. Hold your position.”

They were warming up, the blast would come any second. I expanded. I grew. I attacked. They weren’t expecting it, that one of us would turn. I wanted to scream at the men to go, but even in my current state of treachery, I wasn’t willing to speak to humans. I have forever to live with myself.

Aaron sensed the drop in pressure. “Now. Patrick, climb.”

They swarmed me, overwhelmed me, tore at me. I couldn’t distract them any longer. There were so many of us. The cavern moaned with the updraft. 

Aaron dropped onto the platform. “Patrick, hurry.”

Patrick scrambled the last few feet and dropped. The wind howled, tearing at their clothes. I snickered. Now they were just throwing a fit. It was too late. Patrick and Aaron had made it. 

Finally, someone would take the dagger.

Patrick and Aaron dropped low and made their way to the podium. The wind died down. You’ll have that when you might wink out of existence in the next few seconds. We held our breath as we waited for the men to take it.

Patrick reached it first, running his finger along the ruby hilt. He searched the podium. There was no apparent danger. He sighed. “Now we just have to get it all the way back to Loreena.” 

 Patrick picked up the knife and held the blade closer to his face.

“Let me see,” Aaron said.

Patrick gasped. He threw his head back, eyes unfocused as they trailed back and forth. Then he began screaming. 

Aaron took a step back and held up his hands defensively. “What’s wrong with you?”

Patrick’s mouth snapped shut, and he looked at Aaron. He stabbed the smaller man in the chest. 

Possessed. I guess that’s what it does.

The thing that had been named Patrick jumped across the pit to the rock formations and then he was gone. Definitely possessed. Armageddon maybe?

We waited. We continued to be. I sighed.

Soon a somber chorus of sighs joined mine. We collected ourselves. Got our bearings.

“How could you do that?”

“You betrayed us.”

I stretched. I contracted. I enjoyed the open space all around me. So much of it. Finally. It had been so long.

“Do as you wish,” I said. “Stay and moan with the dead. I don’t care. You are free to go and stay as you like. As for me, I have a whole world to torment.”

With that, I left. 

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Emily Jones Fantasy, Short Story

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