The Blinding Knife(190)
The dead man chuckled from the darkness. “Thought you could lose me so easily? You’re an amusing little man, Gavin Guile.”
“No, you’re Gavin. You’re the dead man. I’m done with that. I’m done with losing. Now go away, I’m burning light here.”
“Bet the torch is trapped.”
Dazen snarled. “I know the torch is trapped!”
But he didn’t know the torch was trapped. That was fear, paranoia. But he couldn’t shake it. Cursing quietly, over and over and over, he studied the torch. He couldn’t touch it.
“Forget it,” the dead man said. “You’ve probably got fifteen minutes left with the green. You might make it, if you don’t sit around and talk to yourself.” He laughed again, mocking.
Dazen stumbled down the hall. He was in bad shape. If he didn’t get sleep and real food soon…
No, worry about that later.
The tunnel curved slowly, and Dazen thought he was spiraling slowly upward. It felt like it was taking forever. It felt unbearable, but it couldn’t go on for too long, could it? How deep would Gavin have dug?
“Deeper than you can dig out, of course,” the dead man said. “He was always that little bit smarter than you.”
“Shut up!” Dazen’s leg folded and he fell. He caught himself, but it almost cost him his concentration. He almost lost the green ball.
“You remember how you were father’s favorite? I wonder if Gavin’s his favorite now. You were always afraid father would realize how much smarter Gavin was than you, weren’t you?”
“Shut up,” Dazen said weakly. Orholam, he’d almost lost his only light. He couldn’t imagine being trapped in utter darkness with only the voices in his head.
“Why don’t you go back to that lux torch,” the dead man said from the darkness. “Your green might last that long. Of course, that lux torch might be dead. Been there a long time. They don’t last forever. Not even your brother’s.”
The darkness was getting stronger, closing in around the little wan circle of green light. Green was supposed to make him feel wild, and strong. But even wild animals can have their hearts burst. And the feeling of strength isn’t the same thing as strength.
Dazen hobbled on, because there was nothing else to do. His body was betraying him. Black spots swam before his eyes. He stumbled again, and this time he fell, barely cradling his dwindling green globe to his chest. He stood, shakily, and even the dead man was silent.
Then, salvation.
He saw another lux torch. He moved toward it slowly, carefully.
“It’s trapped, you know that, right?” the dead man said. “I bet the last one wasn’t trapped. He probably is so much smarter than you that he knew you’d go past that one, and then get desperate. He’s got you figured pretty—”
“Shut up! Shut up. Shut up!”
The green ball was smaller than Dazen’s fist now. He had five minutes left, maybe.
Still, he didn’t rush. He examined closely the iron bracket this torch sat in.
“It won’t be a simple lever trap. Come now, Dazen would be more elegant than that, don’t you think? Dazen—”
“I’m Dazen now!” Dazen hissed. But he didn’t even turn. He was right, it couldn’t be a simple lever trap. The bracket was solid. He stepped back and extended one finger and pressed on the bracket, ready to jump backward if anything happened.
Nothing.
He squinted his eyes, trying to see into the superviolet, but he couldn’t tell if he was failing or there was simply no superviolet luxin to see.
He poked the torch. It shifted in the bracket and he jumped back. His leg betrayed him again and he tumbled to the floor, barely able to break his fall by pushing himself against the wall.
But other than a complete loss of his dignity, nothing happened.
“Loss of your dignity?” The dead man chortled. “You’re bloody, and dirty, and naked, you smell like shit, and you talk to yourself. What dignity do you have to lose?”
“I want you to know,” Dazen said, “when I get out of here, you’re gone. I don’t need you anymore.”
“ ‘Need’ is such an interesting word, isn’t it?”
“Go to the evernight.” Dazen stood wearily. “Let’s see what you’ve got, brother,” he said. He grabbed the lux torch.
And. Nothing. Happened.
He expelled a breath. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. Orholam damn you, Gavin, I really thought you were that diabolically clever.
Dazen pulled back the little clay tab over one square face of the lux torch and a slow glow began emanating as the air got in through its many tiny holes. The torch was still half full of yellow luxin. With the quality of Gavin’s drafting, that would be plenty.