I hear approaching footsteps between wheezes, so I turn and take the ladder down. My feet slip more than once, especially when Grodd appears as a hulking shadow at the top.
I jump down the last few rungs and land harder on one side than the other. Sharp pain laces through my ankle. Gasping, I hurry onward, favoring my right side. Just a jam, but it smarts. My lungs heave for more air; it feels as though I cannot inhale deeply enough. But neither can I stop. I’ll have to plead with someone, anyone, for sanctuary. Surely the council cannot fault me that.
But there are no trollis down here.
I limp toward light, only to realize it lacks the hazy glow of lamplight. It’s dull and a strange shade of purple. As I hurry, pleading with my lungs and leg to follow, the sound of running water strikes my ears. The light expands until I realize it’s a window without netting or glass, and the light comes from the setting sun far overhead, choked by the canyon’s wall.
I collapse against the thick, stony sill and peer into utter blackness. A sort of aqueduct hangs immediately to my right, gushing with running water.
I’m in the waterworks, somewhere near the bottom of the city.
A cold breeze climbs up from the depths of the gorge and raises gooseflesh on my skin. Simultaneously, Grodd’s voice echoes. “Little bird, little bird, why do you run?”
Closing my lips around a whimper, I follow the duct. There’s another window ahead, this one with a platform, conceivably for the water bearers to descend into the canyon like the monster slayers do.
Too much light. I pull away and duck under some tubing, then wedge myself behind a column. I crouch, my legs trembling with the effort, desperately in need of air.
“How did it taste, hmm?” Grodd asks in an almost singsong way. “Feast on all my hard work? Devouring my life!”
A crash rattles through the waterworks. I think he struck one of the ducts, thinking I was hiding there. I suck air through my raw throat, slow and steady. My pulse beats in my ankle. My calves seize.
Grodd’s footsteps near, and I peer through the darkness, trying to find a way back to that ladder. Was it this way, or that way?
If I use my fear on him and he doesn’t see me, will Qequan know?
“I only want to talk, little bird,” Grodd croons, and I see his silhouette by one of the windows. “I’m not scary, am I? You didn’t think so on the bridge.”
He turns slowly, scanning. Stops with his face toward my column. He advances, and I scramble to my feet, gasping as pain shoots up my legs. I slide under another duct and run—
Then fall forward with a splash.
I cough as I struggle to tread water. I can just barely make out the shape of a pool. It isn’t large. Some sort of reservoir. I swim hard, my hips aching, and clamor up the other side, slipping on the hard lip as I do.
“Tell me what you are!” Grodd shouts as I run. The water dripping from my clothes and hair gives him an easy path to follow. I nearly strike my head on another pipe. Some sort of pump heaves to my left. I dart around it, toward another window.
Grodd’s pursuit has stopped, or at least, I can’t hear his footsteps. He may have fallen into the pool as well. Close to the window, I use the better light to gain my bearings. A narrow path stretches up ahead, heading upward—
A vise closes around my neck, cutting off my air. I jerk forward, my feet leaving the floor. Toward the light. Past the window, until I’m dangling over the darkness below.
Fear, pure and unadulterated, blooms in my chest, filling my head with a strange, twisted sensation of euphoria. My scalp tingles. I look into Grodd’s face, his heavy brow pulled so low I can barely see his eyes. His short nose wrinkles in a sneer. Spittle clings to the sides of his thick tusks.
I grab his hand, his wrist, anything to pull up my weight. To keep my neck from snapping. To get air. The dozens of turquoise beads on his sleeve clack with the effort.
Fear.
But if Grodd reacts as he did last time, he might drop me.
His grip loosens a hair, allotting me a trickle of air. Holding on to the edge of the window, he leans out even farther. The canyon opens beneath me like a wintry mouth, cold and dark and ready to consume.
“Tell me what you did,” he growls.
My cold hands try to find purchase on his thick wrist. I reach for the spikes on his forearm, but they’re too far, and my throat closes completely in the attempt. If I can just hold on, I can scare him and he won’t drop me. I’ll be banished, but I won’t be dead.
“Some kind of human magic. No other way a weakling like you could best me.” He spits the words and squeezes until my eyes bulge, then loosens his grip again. My chin and jaw throb. I’ve never felt so frail, so helpless. “I’ll prove what you are. You’ll tell the council yourself and have them reinstate me. They might give you a clean death afterward. Otherwise . . .” He brings me in closer so his breath falls across me, but not close enough for my feet to find purchase. “I’ll leave you broken at the bottom of the canyon and let the monsters strip the skin from your bones.”