The Living Dead

29

Mialee was jolted awake as she felt her body jerk upward. Her stomach stayed behind, and she choked back bile. Something warm flowed down her chin.

That wasn't bile. That was blood.

Mialee struggled in Devis's grasp, and fire blossomed around the three jagged wounds in her back.

She felt dizzy and weak. Mialee tried to shout, but could only manage a cry as she realized that they were no longer on the relative safety of the tracks. They had fallen, and then…she could not remember. She summoned the strength to raise one bruised arm and wrap it around the bard's back, and he started, but didn't raise his head.

Mialee's fingertips dug into the leather of Devis's vest with her last ounce of strength as the two of them rode the improbable wave across the cavern.

Devis's heart leaped in his chest. Mialee's fingers pressed against his back. The elf woman lived, but he could feel the blood soaking into his fingerless glove and soaking his forearms.

Acrid, corrosive wind blasted in from the top of the upended cart. They were gradually gaining speed, riding the wave of metal like a sea lion coming to shore. Devis squinted and chanced a glance ahead of them.

The wall of the cavern loomed before his eyes. Just below, he could still see the small crevice through which his friends had escaped. The wave was carrying them straight for it, topside first. If they survived the collision, they should be able to follow the others and the route would be closed behind them by the cart. Devis could not believe his dumb luck, and silently thanked Fharlanghn for hearing his pleas for some good fortune-any good fortune-albeit belatedly.

He folded himself over Mialee's body, pressed the soles of his boots into the "floor" of their ersatz boat, and braced for impact.

The wave was pushing the cart much more slowly than the explosion that blasted them down the tunnel, but the collision was still strong enough to send Devis tumbling head over heels. He slammed back-first and upside down against the stone. Mialee slipped from his grasp. He winced as her head thunked against the iron amid the ringing, alien screams echoing inside the inky blackness. He reached down and slid Mialee awkwardly onto his lap. The girl's breathing came in shallow gasps. She might have minutes, or only seconds.

Think, bard, think! Devis slammed his fist angrily against the iron beneath him.

Fharlanghn's beard, he could be dense sometimes. Mialee had one of the last healing potions in her belt pouch. His fingers searched through the pockets until he found the vial. He pulled her up and dribbled the liquid between her parted lips.

As Devis readjusted Mialee into a more comfortable position, a scroll tube fell from another pouch on Mialee's belt. Zalyn's scroll tube, Devis realized. Better hold on to that. It might still be important, and it would certainly be worth something-"the parchment that saved the world" and all. He tucked the tube into his belt.

The iron cart lurched upward. The gargantuan roach-thing had switched tactics. Devis hoped the big bug wasn't smart enough to realize what would happen if it rolled the cart back onto its wheels.

The bottom few inches of the escape crevice disappeared as the cart jerked upward. The bard heard a faint cough.

"Devis? What-what's happening?"

He couldn't see her face, but he no longer felt fresh warmth spreading over his blood-soaked hands, either. The cart lurched again, and very slowly began listing back from the wall as gravity took charge and tried to right the toppled cart. In the dim glow that broke into their shelter as it fell away from the wall, Devis saw the escape crevice grow more distant with each passing second.

"We're getting out of here," he said, not bothering to ask whether she felt like coming along. "Hold on."

He gripped the elf woman and stood unsteadily, then leaped out into space.

He landed with a jolt that sent fire into his wounded side, but kept his feet. Escape was a few feet away.

"Put me down," Mialee whispered. "I can walk, and you need your arms."

The elf woman slipped gingerly from his grasp and stood briefly on the shifting metal floor before slipping into the crevice. Devis heard her shout in alarm as her feet shot out from under her and she disappeared down the hole. Mialee's voice shrank down into the tunnel and he could not hear her.

As the cart groaned back onto its wheels with a clang, Devis dived into the crevice, landed painfully on his belly, and flew headfirst into the darkness.

Clipping down, down the slippery tunnel, he saw the orange glow of firelight flickering at the end of the ride. He did not see Mialee or anyone else.

"Fharlanghn abides," he said, then shouted at the top of his lungs as air that smelled of fetid incense blasted his face. He became delirious from the insane acceleration. "And his favorite bard is comin' to get you, you gray son of a bitch!"