Page 90 of The Eyes of Tamburah
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They peered down into the blackness as the air blew into their faces. The acolytes’ veils flapped in the wind rushing through the air shaft.
“Smells like sweaty feet,” Elek said.
“You said anetsaved you?” Rae asked. Her tone doubtful.
“That was on level fifty-one. We can’t assume there’s another one,” Shyla said. “We have to spider down to level sixty-two.”
“What if there are deacons waiting there as well?” Rae asked.
“In that case, there won’t be as many. We can defeat them.” Shyla knew doubt was a bigger enemy than the deacons so she explained. “The Heliacal Priestess is following a logical strategy. Instead of assigning teams to different levels and areas, she has put all her deacons on one level, guarding all the tunnels and stairways.”
“And the air shafts, too?”
“Not likely. No one knows we can spider.”
“How long has it been sinceyou’vespidered?” Jaft asked Shyla.
It’d been more than two circuits ago. She rolled her right shoulder, stretching the muscles which ignited sparks of pain. “Don’t worry about me.”
He’d watched her. “Your injury will impede your mobility.”
“Do you have a better idea?” she asked him, but her gaze scanned all of them.
No one spoke up.
“I thought so. Let’s get started.”
Jaft, Lian and Rae tied the end of a long thin velbloud rope around all their waists. Elek wrapped the opposite end around his body, creating a harness. Although he was the heaviest of the group, he was also the strongest. Once ready, he faced them and eased over the lip of the shaft. When he let go of the edge, the other three provided a counterweight, keeping him from plummeting to his death. Dangling near the top, Elek removed a metal anchor and small mallet. He pounded the anchor into the rock wall.
The low whomp of the mallet echoed oddly and Shyla imagined every deacon on level sixty-one rushing to find the source of the sound. The desire to urge him to hurry warred with the need for their safety.
He placed a second anchor about twenty centimeters to the left. Then he clipped on carabiners to both anchors. Threading the rope through them, he signaled Shyla, who waved the others to lower Elek about a meter. When he stopped, Elek repeated his task, adding two more anchors and carabiners. Again he fastened the rope and motioned to be dropped another meter. The rope above him now resembled a square with one side missing. A third set was fixed, then a fourth.
By the time Elek reached level sixty-one, the rope looked like a long snake, but instead of smooth S-shape curves, it had sharp corners, making it appear boxy. It didn’t really matter how it looked as long as the series of horizontal ropes that acted like a ladder held their weight.
Once Elek stood on firm ground, the others removed the rope from their waists and tied the end to the first anchor. Now came the hard part. While Elek did all the work, he remained secure. They, on the other hand, just had to climb down, but without anything to keep them safe if they slipped and fell.
“I’ll go first,” Jaft said. “Make sure the knot will hold.”
Elek wound in the extra rope, then provided tension when Jaft descended, or as the monks liked to call it, he spidered. Shyla wasn’t sure where the term had come from. Perhaps it’d been due to the way the rope moved and flexed like a web or because a person could only fit one hand or one foot on a “step” at a time.
Jaft arrived safely. One less worry. Lian went next. The limber acolyte moved with a quick fluid grace. Show off. Rae also climbed down as if she weighed nothing.
Remembering her last trip down an air shaft, Shyla summoned her courage before she grasped the first “step” with her left hand and lowered her right foot to the second step. The rough strands of the rope dug into her palm. Grabbing the side rope with her right hand, she stretched her left foot to the next step. For a moment all her weight pulled on her arm. Pain stabbed hard into her shoulder before her foot caught the rope and eased the pressure.
She remained in that position to catch her breath.
“Something wrong?” Jaft said low enough that his voice didn’t echo.
“No.” At least not for every other step. With no time to linger, Shyla continued down, keeping a quick pace despite the daggers of torture. Imagining Banqui free kept her going until she reached the others.
Shyla gasped for breath as a warm wetness soaked the back of her tunic.
“You ripped your stitches,” Rae said. “Will you be able to get down to the next level?”
“I have to,” she panted. “There’s no other choice.”
