"Leesil!" she screamed, thrusting a hand out to grab him, but Brenden snatched her waist from behind to pull her back.
"No, don't!" he shouted. "It's too late."
A cloud of dust enveloped them both, momentarily blinding Magiere.
As rapidly as it had started, the cave-in stopped. Heavy dust still rolled around them in the air, but Magiere could see Chap's tail and haunches and hear him whining. She wiped grime from her eyes with the back of her hand and saw the dog was already digging frantically.
"Get the dog back and take my torch," Brenden ordered.
There was not enough room in the small tunnel for two people to take action. Brenden was potentially the strongest. Magiere grabbed Chap's haunches and pulled hard and fast.
"Get back, Chap!"
Chap snarled at her viciously, either from her roughness or being stopped in his own desperate labor. Holding the dog, she took the torch from Brenden, who pushed past and began jerking and throwing boards to either side as best he could.
And then, Magiere could do nothing but stand and watch.
She hated having no control. At times, she had cursed the responsibilities that she often placed upon herself. But standing in the tunnel, watching Brenden wildly dig for Leesil, she realized that helpless spectators were worse off than those taking action. Spectators had time to think.
What if Leesil died? What good would fighting for a home and a business be if she had no one to share plans and daily events with? Leesil was the only person with whom she'd ever been able to spend immeasurable amounts of time. What did that say about her? What if he died?
She fought the urge to drop the torch, push Brenden aside and start digging herself. Instead, she held Chap back, not sure if the quiver she felt was in her own body or the vibration of the growling whine coming from the dog. With her other hand, she tried to hold the torch out to the side, giving Brenden light and allowing her to see what was happening.
The tunnel was not completely closed. Debris and earth only blocked it about halfway up. The problem was that Brenden had nowhere to throw the debris he removed. His red-tinged face glistened with exertion, but he never slowed his pace.
"Can you see him?" Magiere asked.
"No, I'm not… wait, a foot!"
"Pull! Pull him out."
She stepped back quickly, dragging Chap with her. Brenden pulled hard, almost backing into her, and a small cloud of dust rose up around them. The dust and her own fear made it seem as if Brenden had created the half-elf from nothing and pulled him into existence.
Now it was her turn. Pressing her back to the wall, she slipped around Brenden and handed him the torch so that she could kneel beside Leesil, putting her ear to his chest, then his mouth.
"He's not breathing."
Lying there, Leesil looked thinner than ever. His whole body was a single color of earth except where blood from a cut or scrape on face or hand darkened the grime clinging to him. Once, she'd seen her Aunt Bieja save a child, who had fallen into the well, by blowing air into the child's mouth.
Turning her head away from the dust, Magiere took in a deep breath. She pinched Leesil's narrow nose closed with two fingers, sealed his mouth with her own, and breathed out. His chest rose once and then fell still again.
"What are you doing?" Brenden shouted, grabbing her shoulder.
She swung back and struck his arm off of her and repeated her act again. And again. Desperation would not allow her to stop. The fifth time she made his chest rise, he coughed back into her mouth.
Magiere pulled quickly away, watching his face. "Leesil?"
He lay there motionless. Then he coughed again, dust rising out of his mouth, followed by an audible gasp as he sucked in air. She slumped over him, and relief washed through her.
"Here," Brenden said, and held out a water skin he pulled from his belt. "Try to wash out his throat, and then we'll see if any bones are broken."
Before Magiere could take the water skin, Leesil reached out and grabbed it himself. He took a mouthful, rolled to his side, and spit the water out. Then he tried to sit up.
"I'm all right," he said hoarsely. He blinked at the dirt still in his eyes. "Where's the ghost? Is it gone?"
"What ghost?" Magiere asked. Then she ordered him, "Be still." Using her fingers, she quickly probed his hands, arms, and legs. "I don't think he's injured."
"I'm fine," Leesil rambled on. "Where's the damn ghost! I thought he was real… but he couldn't be… head was cut off."
Magiere looked back at Brenden. "We have to turn back. He's hallucinating."
"No!" Leesil snapped. "I'm not hallucinating. Oh, forget that. It's too late. If we quit now, they'll know we've been here. How safe will we be at home tonight? How safe will Rose and Caleb be? We have to finish this."
He was right, and Magiere knew it, but her first instinct was still to get him out of this place. She untucked her shirt-tail, ripped a piece off, and then poured water from the flask to clean his face and eyes. At first he protested, pushing her hands away, but when she refused to give up, he sat there and let her finish. Small cuts and abrasions marred his tan skin, but none of them looked serious.
"You were lucky," she said.
"The gods watch over fools," he answered, trying to smile.
"Oh, shut up," Magiere snapped, all her panic released in irritation at one of his typically inappropriate remarks.
Brenden shook his head. Magiere knew he thought them both quite odd. She didn't blame him.
"All right, now what?" she asked her partner.
Leesil looked back over his shoulder at the mound of debris choking off half the tunnel's space.
"We'll have to crawl; drag our equipment through," he answered. "I think we are getting very close. That ghost must be some sort of guardian."
He began checking his bag for any broken or ruined equipment. One of the flasks of oil had burst, making the others and his odd box of weapons slippery to handle. Only a small amount soiled his crossbow. He wiped the bow and other items off as best he could with the scrap of Magiere's shirt.
"I lost the torch," he said. "We'll have to make do with just one."
For someone who had almost died, his calm, competent manner both reassured and annoyed Magiere.
"You crawl through and Brenden can hand it to you," he added. "But don't move down the tunnel until I'm there ahead of you."
"Wait," Brenden said. "Stand still, Magiere. I brought something for you." He removed a small flask from the belt at his waist. "Hold out your arms."
"What is that?" she asked.
"Garlic water," he answered. "I took it from your kitchen. At close quarters, it might help protect you, or at least make those creatures think twice about grappling with you."
He poured the garlic water all over her arms, shoulders, and back. She found his foresight impressive, but said nothing until he finished.
"Ready?" she asked.
He nodded.
One by one, they crawled through the open space over the cave-in and again began their trek down the tunnel. Perhaps it was her imagination, but Magiere believed Leesil picked up the pace, and although he did check for traps, his examinations were brief.
"I can see an opening," he said.
A second wave of relief passed through Magiere as they stepped from the tunnel into an underground cavern and once again could stand side by side.
"Over there," Leesil said, pointing across the cavern.
"What?" Brenden asked.
Leesil moved forward, holding the torch out. He glanced back.
"Coffins."
Edwan hovered invisibly over Rashed's coffin, torn between joy and frustration. He'd failed in his one chance to make the hunters kill themselves, and now he believed that appearing to them again would only decrease his chance at future shock tactics.