Bound to the Abyss (14 page)

The rustle of clothes brought his attention back to the here and now. He found Bran and Jaslen rising to their feet as well. Bran steadied Jaslen as she found her footing and went over to Zin.

“You are much less intimidating than that other creature…Zin, is it? Can you speak?” Jaslen’s voice had taken on a friendly tone, but she kept some distance between herself and the imp. “My name is Jaslen.”

“Yeah, I know who you are. I’ve been around Ean long enough to know all about yo…uh the people of your village.”

“Oh really? Then how come we have never seen you around? Does Ean keep you locked away?”

In answer, Zin vanished from sight. Jaslen fell back, a small squeak escaped her mouth. “Where did he go?”

Zin reappeared, exactly where he had been before. Jaslen stared at him for a moment then began to clap her hands and laugh. Her joyful laughter made him smile.

“That was wonderful! Can you do it whenever you want?”

“Yes. It’s helpful in your world, but most things in the Abyss can hunt by smell, so it’s not as useful there.”
 

Knowing that Zin tended to shift a lot whenever he felt uncomfortable, Ean knew the imp must be a complete wreck. All of Jaslen’s questions, and her unwavering attention, had Zin fading in and out like candle light in a breeze. If the cuts on Ean’s stomach didn’t burn so much, he’d be splitting a gut at the poor imp’s plight. For now, he kept a stiff back and snorted out a barely controlled snicker.

"Well, you won't have to worry about hiding with us around now," Jaslen said, giving the imp a friendly smile, "at least not while we're traveling outside of villages and towns. I can't wait for a better opportunity to sit down and ask you all about your home."

"Yes, that sounds like it would be oh so much fun." The sarcasm was clear in Zin's voice, but Jaslen's expression never changed. She either missed it, or chose to ignore it. Zin continued to shuffle his feet, his hands clasped together behind his back.
 

Jaslen opened her mouth to say more but Bran interrupted. “The horse is dead,” he said glumly. “We’ll have to fashion some kind of splint to carry our things into Rensen. It will probably be slow going. It might even take us two or three more days to reach the village.”

Jaslen’s expression dropped for a moment but then brightened as a thought seemed to strike her. “Is there anything you can do, Ean? With your magic? Maybe make our things lighter somehow? Or how about summoning something that could drag or carry our things at least through the mountain? Something that isn’t as scary as the beast you just sent back.”

“Well, I guess there is one thing I could do.”
 

Ean knelt down and began to draw a rune with his finger. He had to draw it a lot bigger than usual, but it was the attention to detail that mattered, not the size. The lines and symbols flared to life as he drew them along the ground, casting that now familiar blue light on the surrounding area again. As soon as he finished the complex design, the rune disappeared, replaced by another gaping dark hole in the ground.

“What are you summoning now?” Jaslen’s voice was a mixture of awe and fear.

“Nothing.”

She squinted her eyes, clearly expecting more.
 

“It’s a storage space, of sorts, my own private storage space. Zin calls it a Pocket. I can fit a certain amount things in there and open it back up somewhere else.”

Jaslen’s expression bordered on adoration. Ean felt heat rush to his cheeks. The blush embarrassed him, but having the positive attentions of a pretty girl was inebriating.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Bran’s eyes narrow, while the corners of his mouth turned down in disapproval. Realizing that in an unguarded moment he had let his feelings for Jaslen come to the surface, he turned his face to an impassive expression. Ean pretended not to have noticed the other boy’s angry glare. All he could do was hope that Bran would chalk up what he saw to his imagination. They had a long road ahead of them, and it was essential that they learn to trust one another. Ean vowed to be more careful in hiding his true feelings in the future.

“Bran,” Ean said, trying to sound casual. “We can fit most of our things in here, but we’ll still have to carry the tent materials.”

Bran was silent for a moment, still regarding him with that same expression. Ean shifted about until he finally spoke. “That’s fine. The posts and materials are not that heavy. They shouldn’t slow us down at all.”

"That's good."
 

Ean felt uncomfortable. He looked up at the sky, trying to get an idea of how late it was at night. "Well, I don't expect to get much sleep tonight. Should we pack everything up and head out now, or do you want to try and rest a little before we leave?" He had directed the question to Jaslen, but Bran answered first.

"We should probably get going. We can rest for a day or two once we get to Rensen. It will give us time to try and find a caravan going to Lurthalan. My father said that would be the best way to travel."

"Yes, I doubt I could sleep tonight," Jaslen said with a sigh. "My head is still sore, and I expect to have bad dreams of trolls trying to make a meal of me for at least the next couple of days. If I'm going to have nightmares, I would prefer to wake up from them safe in an inn than out here on the ground."

“It's decided then," Bran said, placing a gentle hand on Jaslen. His normal, positive demeanor had returned. "You stay here, love, and rest. I'm sure Ean and I can handle packing things up. Unless, of course, Ean needs to stay near...that.” He gestured towards to the still glowing hole in the ground.

"No, I can leave it there. It won't close up unless I go too far away, and even then it's simple enough to open up again."

"Good." Bran squeezed Jaslen's shoulder then walked off towards their tent. Rising gingerly, a hand holding his stomach, Ean started to move back towards his things. He had only taken two steps, when he heard Jaslen speaking and immediately stopped.

“So, Zin, we have some time now to talk while the boys pack things up.”
 

Ean tried to subtly lock eyes with Zin. The imp was nodding at the girl, but his eyes were locked on him. Ean returned to his tent, hoping the imp would be smart about what he said.

“Not much to tell,” Ean heard the imp say loud enough for him to hear. “Imps like me live on the first level of the Abyss with all of the other minor creatures.”

Satisfied Zin would watch his tongue, Ean began to pack up his supplies and take down his tent. When he finished, he dragged his bags and the tent pieces over towards where Jaslen and Zin were still talking by his Pocket.

“No, I have never seen Ze’an,” Zin was saying as Ean approached. “As far as I know, he never comes up to the top level of the Abyss, or any of the higher levels for that matter. Oh look, Ean’s back.”

When Zin got up to join him, Jaslen’s lower lip formed into a pout which spread into a superior smirk, making Ean nervous. What information had she pumped from Zin? No time to ask him now. Reaching his rune, he set the tent material down on the ground and knelt down next to the hole. He tossed his bag of clothes down into the portal without a thought but was much gentler with the medicine bag, which he carefully lowered down until he felt it come to rest on top of something.

"How much can your storage space hold, Ean?" Jaslen asked as she stared down into the Pocket. The smirk that had previously adorned her face was gone. Ean couldn't figure out if that made him feel better or worse.

"I'm not sure," he said. "I usually only keep things that are important to me in there. This is the biggest I've ever made the opening, and I don't think I could make it much larger."

"Interesting...” Jaslen trailed off, her attention drawn to the swirl of color and lights.
 

Bran tossed his and Jaslen's things down in front of Ean. "That should do it.” He placed his tent materials down next to Ean's and then looked at him expectantly.

With a grunt Ean picked up their bags and lowered them down with the others. Pulling his arm free, he focused his attention on the Pocket and willed it to close. Both Bran and Jaslen were looking at the Pocket with wonder on their faces. They would expect answers to so many more questions now that they saw his connection to the Abyss, or what they perceived as his connection. When the portal closed, the four remained silent for a time until Zin broke the silence.

"Well, if we are just about set to go, would anyone mind if I snacked a bit on the horse before we leave? The mountain path hasn't had a great deal of small vermin for me to eat, so if I could fill up now, I think I could make it the rest of the way without eating again."

“No!” Bran and Jaslen shouted in unison. Ean had been in mid-shrug but froze as he heard the other two. Zin took a step back in surprise and shot a confused look at Ean. When Ean kept his mouth shut, the imp scowled at him, then spoke to Jaslen and Bran.

“And why not?” the imp said, scratching at his head. “It would be a shame to let all of that meat go to waste.”

“Claire was practically a member of my family!” Bran said. “Father bought her almost ten years ago, a special order from The Merchant that he had to place the year before. She isn’t going to just be another meal for you or anybody else. We’ll…” he looked about for a moment. “We’ll bury her.”

At that, Ean did speak up. “Bury her?” He waved his hand around, taking in the area. “This is all rock and stone. Unless you brought a pickax with you, there is no way we could ever bury her. Best to just leave her be and move on.”

Bran shook his head violently while Jaslen took over the debate. “No, we can’t just leave her to be scavenged.” She placed a hand on Bran’s shoulder. “It just wouldn’t be right. We’ll cover her with stones; that shouldn’t take too long.”

"Fine, fine," Ean said, surrendering to the two.
 

This was probably how the rest of the trip would go -- him always getting out voted by the other two. He doubted they would start letting Zin weigh in on any decisions either. Mumbling to himself, Ean got back to his feet. He stumbled a bit as he rose, his right arm giving out as he tried to use it to push himself up.
 

That was strange.
 

If anything he would expect his stomach injury to cause him problems. Once on his feet, he began to rub his arm with his left hand, trying to rid himself of the numbness that had crept up it again. Very strange.

Bran was already on his feet, in the middle of helping Jaslen up as well. Jaslen wavered, almost falling back down, a hand going to her head as she tried to keep her balance. "Maybe you should rest a little longer," Bran said, concern clear in his voice. "Ean and I can handle covering up Claire.”

"I'm well enough to help," she waved him off as she spoke. "Anyway, Ean was hurt as well, and he is up and moving around.” She flashed Ean a small half smile which he tried to return.

"Better to just let her help, Bran," Ean said, trying to put some humor in his voice. "We'll be here all night if you try and arg—"

PAIN.

It shot through Ean’s body faster than he could react. His eyes popped as his head shot back. A scream burst out of him. As the pain rushed through every fiber of his being, he closed his eyes to shut out the world, but it didn’t help. His body hit the ground. His head bounced off a rock, but it was nothing compared to the river of agony that raged inside him. Curling up into a ball, he screamed again.

It washed over him like a sudden downpour, soaking him to the very core of his body. One moment it felt as if his entire body was aflame, a scorching inferno that cooked him to the bone. The next moment he was freezing, a cold that froze his lungs and stopped his heart. After that, it was as if he was being crushed and ripped apart all at the same time. And it kept repeating.
 

For moments.
 

For days.
 

For years.
 

A cycle of pain.

And then emptiness.

***

When Ean awoke, the first thing he remembered was the pain, but it was gone now. Am I dead? No one ought to have survived the kind of agony he had gone through — as if his body had been torn inside out. Now, he felt only comfort and peace as he snuggled inside a patchwork quilt upon a soft mattress. He rubbed his stomach — the wounds from the troll were gone.

He opened his eyes. A light blinded him at first, and he had to squint as his eyes adjusted. Above him, once he could make anything out, he found a wooden ceiling high above his head. So he was inside! But where? Certainly not his own room at home. The one lamp there couldn't cast nearly enough light to keep him squinting. Ean let his head flop to the side and tried to make out more of his surroundings.

The wall running behind him was the first thing he noticed -- the wooden boards dyed a dark red color, a single window placed in the center. The window was dark, but that told him nothing. From where they had been camped, it was at least a day’s journey to Rottwealth or Rensen. Arranged about the room were other pieces of furniture: a few dressers, a table with a couple of chairs and two other beds.
 

It was the person sitting on the bed across from him, though, that made him smile. Jaslen was sitting on the edge with her legs folded underneath her. A book was in her lap, and she was nibbling her lower lip as she read from its pages.

Ean remained still, looking over at her. The questions about what had happened went from a hornet’s nest in his head to a mild buzz. She had always had that effect on him, even when they were little. She sat there wearing the same clothes as before his little blackout, strands of her dark red hair falling across her face, which she occasionally blew out of her eyes.
 

As always, Zin’s voice disturbed his peace. “Welcome to the world of the living. See anything you like here in Rensen?”

Ean found Zin sitting on top of a bed post. The imp was looking down at him with that mocking little smile, half grin, half a show of his pointy little teeth. Blast the imp! Pushing the covers off his upper body, he inched his way back so that he was sitting up against the backboard of the bed.