In one corner of the pit, there were enough hand- and footholds in the dug-out dirt that she was certain she could climb up the wall and out. She’d climbed her share of trees throughout the years. Riq and Dak seemed to understand, and started moving to the opposite side of the pit, hands still tied up.
Which reminded Sera of her next task. The ropes binding her wrists didn’t seem all that strong. And there were plenty of rocks strewn about the roughly dug prison into which they’d been thrown. She looked around until she found a good one with a sharp edge, then sat over it, head down, like a girl who’d given up on the world and only wanted to cry in pity. Then she started sawing. Back and forth, back and forth, glancing around every few seconds to make sure no soldier had noticed.
A strained, muffled series of sounds came from behind her, and she twisted around to see Aristotle looking directly at her, trying to say something. She shrugged to let him know she couldn’t understand, and he stopped making the moaning noise. But then his face took on a calm, commanding presence — almost magical — that seemed to fill the air with some kind of unearthly communication. She felt it, and it encouraged her. He was telling her that he was proud, that he knew she could do this.
She went back to her task, working harder to cut the ropes.
“You there!” a man yelled from the lip of the pit.
Every cell in Sera’s body froze solid, and her heart dropped. Still crouching over the rock, she slowly looked up. A soldier stood on the very edge, his toes hanging over. He was pointing, but not at her. He was pointing at Dak and Riq, who bounced on their feet as if they thought they could jump right out of the pit.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the guard asked, a hint of cocky amusement in his voice. “Trying to get in some exercise so you’ll be nice and fit for the hanging tomorrow?” He bellowed a laugh that made Sera want to strangle him, and some of the other soldiers joined in. One picked up a rock and threw it at Dak, though it missed, kicking up a little puff of dirt where it landed.
Sera couldn’t help them, not now. Her best bet was to use the diversion.
She sawed, vigorously, biting her tongue between her lips with the effort. Finally, the rope snapped in two and the frayed fragments fell from her wrists. She quickly squatted over them and kept her hands behind her back, waiting to see if any alarms or shouts arose from the soldiers. But every last one of them continued to mock and throw things at Dak and Riq.
Sera was free. Loose. Too bad she was at the bottom of a huge pit with soldiers all around her.
She moved casually, making sure to avoid quick or jerky movements that might draw attention. Keeping to the lowest, farthest angle of the pit’s bottom, she crawled toward the corner, longing for the hand- and footholds like they were a thousand miles away. Dak and Riq had quite a crowd now, causing their diversion without even having to do much. She’d be sure to thank them for all the lumps and bruises they’d have from rocks raining down from above. Thankfully, the guards seemed like they only wanted to taunt them, not hurt or kill them. Most of the ammunition missed by a long shot.
She reached the corner. Freedom awaited ten feet above her. Every soldier she could see had made their way to the other half of the pit, watching the show. She saw Riq notice her, and his eyes said it all before he quickly looked away. He knew she needed something a little more special to ensure no one looked her way.
Riq coiled his legs, then vaulted himself onto Dak, using his shoulders and knees to pummel her best friend. She didn’t know if Dak understood what he was doing, but Dak fought back on instinct, and soon they were rolling and tussling comically as the soldiers — and, sadly, the other prisoners — roared with laughter, cheering for one or the other.
Now, Sera thought.
Giving up on any pretense of staying low or being tied with ropes anymore, Sera jumped to her feet and attacked the dirt wall, roughly hewn and filled with places to grab for holds. Some of it crumbled, making her slip several inches at a time, but things stayed solid for the most part. Like a monkey on a jungle gym, she clambered up and reached the top of the pit in no time.
Panting — more from anxiety than the effort of climbing — she didn’t waste even a second looking around to see who might’ve seen her. She spotted a break in a long row of tents nearby, a little alley that led away from the main clearing, where hundreds of people milled about. She headed that direction, sprinting with all the strength left in her body.
She’d made it about halfway when she heard the clamor and yells of the soldiers guarding the pit. Their angry voices rose over the din of the crowd.
They’d spotted her.
DAK WONDERED if he’d ever have a day again where nothing on his body hurt and there weren’t a million things on the planet stressing him out.
Today certainly wasn’t it.
He’d already been tired and sore before crawling across the dirty floor of the pit with his hands tied. Then you added in the nice element of rocks raining down from the sky, a few of them lucky enough to smack him in the shoulders and back. To top it all off, Riq decided to go insane-wrestler-dude on him, jabbing with his elbows and knees in all kinds of places that didn’t feel so hot. Dak had fought back, knowing that it was for Sera — but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
And it had worked. He knew it. He’d seen her disappear over the lip of the pit, and she’d had plenty of a head start before the soldiers started yelling and chasing. He knew his friend, and he wouldn’t even allow the thought of her getting caught to enter his mind. At least he had the pit as a measuring stick — as long as she wasn’t hauled back and thrown in, he had to assume she was safe. Unless . . .
Again, he blocked off his mind from terrible possibilities.
Riq lay on his side, facing away from Dak. The poor guy, Dak thought. Something about him seemed to suggest he’d finally run out of steam. He reminded Dak of a balloon that held on for as long as it could after a birthday party, clinging to the ceiling, but then eventually sank to the floor, a wilted, crumpled heap of rubber. Dak felt it, too, but he still had hope. Once someone figured out they had Aristotle in their prison pit, surely all would be well in the world again.
The Let’s-Throw-Rocks-at-Dak-and-Riq Show had ended as soon as a guard had spotted Sera running away, and most of the guards had left in pursuit. Several returned now, but Dak couldn’t tell from their whispers or body language if she’d been captured. The fact that they didn’t bring her back, of course, was a very good sign. Unless . . .