had this other thing—this head—I couldn’t think of it as a man, that just started my brain spinning—how long had it been here? Like that?
This was the true hell of this dimension. Not the thing on the cave floor, but the never-ending possibility of it. Trapped for eternity in a world of other killers, any of whom could, at any moment, do this to you. All you can do is trust that they won’t, trust that if you don’t touch them, they won’t touch you, rely on honor and decency from men who have none. And when they do exactly what you fear they’ll do, you band together and lock them up with their victim, barricade them in and leave them there, alone…until some goddamn idiot walks up, goes, “Hmmm, what’s this boulder doing here?” moves it, and barricades herself inside with them.
I squeezed my eyes closed and chased the thoughts away. Panic. So that’s what it felt like.
After a few shoves on the boulder, the man gave a snarl that resounded through the cavern. Those dragging footsteps resumed and, seconds later, he appeared at the room entrance. He stepped inside and peered around, head low, snuffling and muttering. Then he wheeled and strode out the door, heading for the tunnel depths. Thank God. Now I could—Wait. Shit! When he’d turned, there’d been something in his hand. It was still too dark for me to see more than shapes, but I knew he hadn’t been carrying anything earlier, and the only long, narrow object he could have picked up on his way to the entrance was the tree limb I’d left there—the one I needed to get out of this place.
Slow down. Take it slow and think. There has to be something else here you can use. As I looked around the room, my gaze slid over the four limbs. Arm bones would be too short. A leg bone might work, but first I’d have to get the flesh off of it. I knew a spell for flaying, but it only removed the skin layer and wouldn’t do anything for the tissue beneath.
If only I still had Dachev’s knife. I should have gone back for it. Carelessness. Pure carelessness. I was too accustomed to relying on spells.
I crept over to the nearest leg and bent down, running through my list of witch spells. Behind me, the thing on the floor chattered and made a strangled hissing sound, as if sensing what I was considering. I ignored it. Wasn’t like he was going to need this anymore, and if I could use it, that’s all that mattered.
After another moment’s consideration, I shook my head and straightened. There was no easy way to deflesh the bone. Either I tried to move the stone without a pry bar or I went deeper into the cave in search of another tool. As the chattering continued behind me, I quickly rejected option two. No way in hell I was going anyplace that might bring me into contact with the creature who’d done this. I wasn’t that brave…or that stupid.
45
AT THE DOORWAY, I STRAINED TO HEAR THOSE DRAGGING footsteps, and picked up distant echoes of them. Good. At least I knew where he was—and that he wasn’t anywhere near me.
I hurried to the entrance, then cast my cover spell, my back to the tunnel. Again I listened. The footsteps were still faint. I cast my telekinesis spell, leaned into the boulder, and heaved. It didn’t move.
Before I could push again, I heard the man coming back. I sidestepped to the wall, and pressed against it. I closed my eyes before casting the cover spell. If I needed to cast a binding spell, I’d stand a better chance of success if I could fully concentrate on it. More than that, I closed my eyes because I knew if I kept them open and saw that limping figure drawing closer, I’d panic.
As the footsteps approached, I tensed, mentally reciting the binding spell, ready to cast it if he bumped me. What if it didn’t work? What if I let him get that close, and I couldn’t stop him? And if I could bind him? Where would I go? This had to be the only exit. I could bind him and still be trapped, just waiting for the spell to snap—
The smell of rotting meat washed over me. The footsteps had stopped. Where was he? Right in front of me? Why the hell had I closed my eyes? He