Mike Shevdon - Sixty-One Nails

"I do," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. If I could think of another way…"

"There is no other way."

She pressed herself into my chest and I wrapped my arms around her, her head resting against my shoulder. I breathed her scent, which wrapped around me even in the foulness of the fetid tunnel. She was a private breath of sunshine and, for that moment, she was mine.

"Are you prepared?" Raffmir's voice was expectant, keen with enthusiasm.

"I am ready," I told him.

Blackbird hugged me one last time and I lifted her face to plant a damp kiss on her lips. I smiled for her. If we were doing this then I wanted it over with.

I climbed down first onto the bank where we had retrieved the hammer, with Blackbird climbing after me. I called my thanks to Ben. He'd left the hammer close to where the rungs were set, leading down into the dark water. As we approached it the hackles rose on the back of my neck and my senses jarred at it. Carrying it was going to be an ordeal, even without the water.

I wiped my palms on my trousers where they were greasy with slime and sweat. My spine was prickling and my head ached with the wrongness of it. I would try and make this quick. The less time I had to spend near the thing, the better.

Raffmir descended the ladder and produced a lace handkerchief to wipe the slime from his hands and from the edges of his sleeves. He was as fastidious as a cat and the expression on his face as his white hanky took on the green-brown stain was almost worth enduring the trial for.

Solandre stood at the top of the ladder. I knew it was petty but I looked forward to her getting her hands dirty. Instead, she stepped lightly off the gantry and floated gently to the ground, her skirts billowing around her legs. Another benefit, I supposed, of not being entirely anchored to reality.

Disappointed, I turned back to the hammer.

I could not escape the sense that it was somehow alive, brooding darkly, waiting for its opportunity to hurt me. It would not have long to wait.

Ben had secured a sling around it with some blue nylon rope. I blessed him, as it would mean I could descend into the river without having to hold the hammer at the same time.

Raffmir objected. "You cannot have the rope. You must carry the hammer across yourself," he asserted.

Blackbird corrected him. "Actually you said it must be taken by he who stands trial from one side to the other. You did not specify the means by which it should be carried."

He hesitated, and then allowed that it was what he'd said. He didn't look happy about it, though. "Very well, but he may not throw it or pass it across. He must take it across the river himself."

"Agreed," I confirmed.

I had never liked water. Not since the day I had almost drowned. I claimed I'd never had the time to learn to swim, but the truth was that I could always think of something else to do rather than that. With the hammer, though, swimming was not going to be an option. It would weigh me down like an anchor.

Ben had bound the rope around the head and down around the end of the handle forming a sling of sorts. It looked welltied and secure.

"Which way up do you want it?" Blackbird must have been steeling herself because she looked relaxed as she went over to it. Whether this show was for my benefit or theirs I could not say.

"Put the head at the bottom. That way it will be easier to manoeuvre."

"Just don't touch it by mistake, OK?"

The worst part was picking up the hammer. Blackbird helped me, even though it must have made her flesh crawl to do it. She slipped the nylon rope over my head and shoulder so the hammer was slung across my back. It made my bones ache, my nerves jangle and my muscles cramp and twitch, but I would bear it. I was determined to see this through.

My stomach knotted and twisted and I comforted myself that it was not the thought of the river turning my guts, but the proximity of the hammer. As I stood, finally prepared, Blackbird brushed my hair back from my face in a gesture I understood. It was enough to raise the ghost of a smile, though in truth I was feeling sick from being so close to the hammer. There was nothing left to say.

Looking down at the flow, I was sure that if I simply tried to cross the stream then I would be swept away. The current had risen while we were there, fuelled by the rain from the world above, and the whole width of it would be treacherous. For a moment my mind filled with the thought of it invading my nostrils, choking my mouth, slipping dark and cold into my lungs until it starved me of oxygen, leaving me scrabbling for air.

"Ready?" Blackbird's voice broke into my thoughts.

I nodded once, telling myself it would be OK.

"May fortune smile upon you."

Fortune was all well and good, but I was not intending to leave this to chance. I smiled back at her, not daring to linger or I would give myself away.

I had come up with a plan.

I could try and explain to her, but it was better that she didn't know. I wasn't quite sure whether what I intended was within the strict laws of the trial, but it would meet the conditions that Raffmir had set out and I was relying on his sense of honour to hold back his sister when, and if, I endured. I was not without hope, but I would keep my secret to myself.

If my plan worked then I would carry the hammer from one side of the river to the other. However, it was important it looked right, otherwise there might be room for them to contest the validity of the ordeal. I had to make this look good.

Crossing the stream physically was not part of the plan. Once I was under the surface and out of sight, I would put my hand on the sixty-first nail which was tucked into my pocket and use that to create a path through the void to the other side. As long as I could stay focused, the slight time delay would give the illusion that I had struggled across and then I could emerge victorious with the hammer.

They would have to allow it. As Blackbird had said, they had not specified the means or the manner of my crossing the river, only that I must carry it across myself. I was tempted to do it from the bank. He hadn't said I had to use the rungs or even enter the water, but I did not want to leave room for doubt. I would suffer the brief torment that carrying the hammer down into the water would inflict to make sure there was no room for them to wriggle out of their promise.

I sat down on the cold bank, hanging my legs down over the edge. The damp seeped into the cloth of my trousers. No matter. I would be wetter and colder shortly.

Being careful to mind the hammer I leaned back and rolled over so I could drop my legs over the edge and seek with my foot for a toe-hold. There was no handhold at the top and I guessed the rungs had only ever been intended for emergency. My hands were aching where I held the wooden shaft of the hammer so it would not slide over the edge and drag me backwards into the water.

After a moment my toe found what I thought was a rung. I tested my weight on it and it held. Below it was another. I scraped backwards slowly, easing myself over the edge. I let the sling take the weight of the hammer and let it swing free behind me. It pulled into my shoulder and banged back against my leg, momentarily numbing my thigh muscle.

I eased back and down, and when my head was level with the bank, Raffmir said, "Farewell, little brother." The look of smug satisfaction on Solandre's face made me even more determined to make my plan work.

I stepped down again and felt the first touch of water around my feet. The damp bricks had been chilled, but this was icy. I lowered myself further. The current tugged at my ankles and calves. It got harder to find the footholds with the water pulling at my trousers. I told myself it would not be for long. Twisting around, I looked across the gap of twenty or thirty feet to the other bank, the line of rungs descended there into the water. I fixed in my mind the clear picture of the other wall so I would be able to find it through the void.