Matt Forbeck - Marked for Death

“We’re ready,” said Sallah.

Kandler leaned out the window and swung around the bust-weighted end of the sheets in a wide circle. “All right,” he said, “catch!”

The justicar flung the bust toward the sword. “Ow!” Sallah said. There was a clatter, and Kandler could see the knight’s sword almost fall away into the mist. When the bust hit the end of the sheet-rope’s length, it tugged hard. Kandler felt himself being pulled through the window, but he hauled himself back in at the last moment.

“You could say something when you tie a chamber pot into the end of something you’re throwing at me,” Sallah said.

“It was a jade bust,” said Kandler. “And now you know.” He hauled up the sheet and started swinging the bust around again to give it another try.

“Incoming!” the justicar said as he flung the bust over once more. This time, he heard a satisfying grunt on the other end.

“She got it!” said Esprл\

“Perfect. Now tie your end to something solid. I’m coming over.”

Kandler anchored his end of the sheet-rope to the nearest bed’s leg and tested it with his full weight. It held.

“Ready!” said Esprл.

“Here I come.”

Kandler pulled his legs over the edge of the window and looked down into the nothingness of the mists. For a moment, he wondered if this was what the realm of the dead looked like, then he rubbed his hands together, took a deep breath, grabbed the sheet-rope, and swung himself out.

The sheet-rope gave a bit under Kandler’s weight. He swung for a moment, trying to regain his equilibrium. When he was ready, he moved hand over hand along the rope.

The distance between the windows hadn’t seemed so far when Kandler made the rope. Throwing a jade bust the thirty feet or so was easy. Crossing the gap himself was a bit more treacherous.

Kandler was about halfway to his goal when he heard a sheet behind him start to give. The tearing noise pierced the mist-shrouded air like a shout. He recognized it and flung himself along the rope as fast as he could go.

The justicar only managed to get another swing in before the rope separated. It tore right where it had been rubbing against the corner of the windowsill, and Kandler fell.

Esprл screamed.

Kandler yelled as he swung out into the mists. He clung to the rope with all his might. When he reached the bottom of his swing, his hands slipped along the rough, musty sheets. The skin burned from the palms of his hands, but he held on tighter, trying to slow his descent.

Kandler’s grasp came to a knot in the sheet, and he stopped hard. His momentum kept going, though, and he swung far out away from the tower’s wall.

When Kandler reached the end of the swing, he breathed a sigh of relief, despite the pain in his hands and his arms. It turned into a gasp of fear as he swung back.

Kandler’s back slammed into the tower’s wall, knocking the air from his lungs and wrenching his arms. Still, he managed to hold on, and he hung there until he could breathe again, grateful that the swinging had stopped. The mists swirled hungrily below him, and for a moment Kandler considered letting them have him. Maybe Esprina would be waiting for him on the other side.

“Kandler!” Esprл said. The voice shocked Kandler out of his daze.

Sallah joined her. “Kandler!”

“All right,” the justicar said. He still had work to do here. He couldn’t leave Esprл and the others to the mad elf’s whims. He choked on his words until he cleared his throat. “I’m all right,” he said. “Be right up.”

Kandler stretched his shoulders a bit, testing to see if they would still work. He took a deep breath and started pulling himself hand over hand up the sheets. He had only made it a few feet when he heard the sheet start to tear again. This time, the sound came from above him.

“It’s tearing!”

Esprл’s scream rang in Kandler’s head. He looked up and saw her reach out and grab the sheet just past the point where the rip had started.

“Kandler!” she screamed as she wrapped her little ringers around the rough fabric and pulled.

“Get off the rope!” Kandler said as he pulled himself higher. It was bad enough he was going to die here. He wasn’t going to drag his daughter down with him. “Esprл, you’re not big enough!”

Sallah shouldered the girl aside and snatched the tearing end of the sheet-rope from her. “I have you!” she said.

“Who’s got you?” he said. “Let go!”

Sallah ignored the justicar. She pulled on the rope with all her might, but it didn’t come up an inch. He was a full-sized, fully armed man, and he was just too heavy.

Esprл started to wail with fear. Kandler’s stomach turned. The girl had lost both her parents already, and now she was going to watch him fall to his doom. He kept climbing.

“Be quiet!” yelled Sallah.

Esprл’s wail ended as if Sallah had sliced through it with a sword.

“Quick!” Sallah ordered. “Hand me the other rope!”

A moment later Esprл appeared at the window with rope that she and Sallah had been working on. She tossed it down to Kandler. “Here!” she said. “Grab hold!”

Kandler reached out and grabbed the other rope just as the first gave way. He had barely enough time to wrap it around his wrist before he fell. The other rope still had a lot of slack in it, and it snaked out the window after Kandler as he dropped away into the mist.

The rope finally played out and snapped tight, and Kandler felt as if his arm was pulled from its socket. He growled in pain and then felt himself swinging back toward the tower again. This time he was able to brace himself for the impact. He hit the hard stone, and his shoulder burned as if a red-hot brand had been shoved up his sleeve.

Kandler hung there at the end of the rope from his bad arm, trying to recover his strength. He couldn’t tell how far from the window he’d fallen or how close the ground might be. He thought he heard something wet and sticky far below-perhaps a beast smacking its lips over an anticipated meal or the bubbling of a pit full of tar.

“Pull!” Sallah shouted.

Kandler heard something above him crack. The image of a spitting bedpost flashed through his head, and he closed his eyes and thought of his wife.

The sheet jerked as whatever it was anchored to started to give, and pain lanced through Kandler’s arm. The agony jabbed him into action. He reached up with his good arm and started pulling himself up. Each time he used his left arm, his shoulder protested, but he kept climbing through the pain. He used his teeth to hold on to the sheets when his arm hurt too much. The musty smell reminded him of a funeral shroud, and he gagged at the taste.

The air behind Kandler grew warm, and he heard a noise like a crackling bonfire all around him. For a moment, he feared he was already dead, that the heat came from the Keeper welcoming him into the fiery afterlife. He wrapped the rope around his good arm and turned to meet his fate.

A large circle of fire cut through the mist straight for Kandler. Orange tongues of flame crackled as they pushed the ring closer. As Kandler watched, the ring grew larger and larger until it seemed it must be the maw of a dragon come to pluck him from the side of the tower wall.

Kandler grunted and started climbing again. He pulled himself up as best he could with his injured arm, fighting for every inch. He could feel Sallah and Esprл tugging on the sheet from above, but they weren’t able to move it. He heard Esprл screech in frustration, and his heart sank.

When the justicar glanced back again, he saw that it was hopeless. He’d gained a few feet, but the fiery ring looked large enough to swallow his house whole. There was no way to escape it. He clung to the rope with his teeth and hands, hoping to at least make the creature work for its meal.