experienced caver, and she trusted him. But she preferred leading to following. She needed to be in charge of her own destiny.
“Feel it?” Luartaro called back. “The air’s moving. We are getting out of here. Stay close!”
With Zakkarat directly in front of her, Annja couldn’t feel the air moving, but Zakkarat picked up the pace, crawling as fast as the space allowed.
Moments later, they erupted out onto a flat space.
Luartaro reached down and gave Annja a hand up.
She stood and stretched her back. Her spine, palms and knees were feeling the abuse they’d taken from the rocky climb.
She looked around. They were standing in yet another chamber. This one had a high ceiling and a delicious, faint breeze that stirred her hair.
But after a moment, her sense of relief sank. The air—and rain with it—was coming through a needlelike slit directly overhead. It was high above them and looked too narrow for anyone to easily fit through.
Free me.
She spun around, looking for the source of the words.
“Probably couldn’t even get to that opening, let alone squeeze through it,” Luartaro said as if he’d caught her thoughts. “The stone is so smooth around it and steeply canted. We have equipment—”
“But not the right kind for something like that,” Zakkarat supplied. “I brought only simple caving equipment. We have no pulleys and no harness. Those were in the pack I left behind. Lunch, too. My wife made us pickled cabbage and a little kaeng hang le. All of it gone. Lost. I thought—”
“You thought that you were taking us to a different cave,” Annja said, still glancing around. “Ping Yah, where we wouldn’t need anything overly complicated.
“It’s not your fault, Zakkarat. It’s pouring outside,” she added. “This nonstop rain is only going to make things worse. And I’m the one who talked you into coming out here in the first place.”
Free me.
We have to free ourselves first, she thought. Her mind raced. She might be able to get to the slit. She had pitons and could probably make it without pulleys or a harness. She knew how to free-climb and could use the pitons as handholds. And she was the thinnest of them. She could try to force her way through.
Zakkarat was small, but Luartaro wasn’t, and without a harness it might be impossible for both of them to get that high. Still, if she managed to get out she could go for help and bring the right equipment, a drill that could widen the opening, some ropes. That might be the best option.
“Worth a try,” she told herself.
“Annja, look!” Luartaro pointed to a spot high along a wall. “Are those roots? Am I seeing right?”
“Yes!”
“Then, we’re near the surface.”
“But we’re trapped,” Zakkarat said. “I brought you here to see coffins, and now we are trapped in one.”
“Stay with him, Lu,” Annja said. “I’m going up.”
She hurried to the stone directly below the roots and reached into her pack for a piton and hammer.
Just as she drove it into the rock, she heard a great whoosh. She didn’t have to look to know what had happened.
The river had forced its way up the tunnel and into the once-dry chamber.
Pack over one shoulder, rope over the other, Annja worked fast. Using the pitons as steps, she climbed. The light was faint, and it shifted as Luartaro sloshed around and inspected the cavern. She was certain he was looking for other passages. She prayed he would find one.
The rush of water was loud, echoing against the stone and mixing with Zakkarat’s worried voice and Luartaro’s reassuring one.
Her breath came in strong, even bursts, and her heart pounded. The toes of her boots scraped against the rock. The rain pattered down, finding its way through the cavern slit. And through all the sounds, the voice in her head whispered, Free me.
The scent of the stone filled her nostrils. She canted her head back to gauge how far she had to go to reach the roots and possibly how much beyond that to
“Feel it?” Luartaro called back. “The air’s moving. We are getting out of here. Stay close!”
With Zakkarat directly in front of her, Annja couldn’t feel the air moving, but Zakkarat picked up the pace, crawling as fast as the space allowed.
Moments later, they erupted out onto a flat space.
Luartaro reached down and gave Annja a hand up.
She stood and stretched her back. Her spine, palms and knees were feeling the abuse they’d taken from the rocky climb.
She looked around. They were standing in yet another chamber. This one had a high ceiling and a delicious, faint breeze that stirred her hair.
But after a moment, her sense of relief sank. The air—and rain with it—was coming through a needlelike slit directly overhead. It was high above them and looked too narrow for anyone to easily fit through.
Free me.
She spun around, looking for the source of the words.
“Probably couldn’t even get to that opening, let alone squeeze through it,” Luartaro said as if he’d caught her thoughts. “The stone is so smooth around it and steeply canted. We have equipment—”
“But not the right kind for something like that,” Zakkarat supplied. “I brought only simple caving equipment. We have no pulleys and no harness. Those were in the pack I left behind. Lunch, too. My wife made us pickled cabbage and a little kaeng hang le. All of it gone. Lost. I thought—”
“You thought that you were taking us to a different cave,” Annja said, still glancing around. “Ping Yah, where we wouldn’t need anything overly complicated.
“It’s not your fault, Zakkarat. It’s pouring outside,” she added. “This nonstop rain is only going to make things worse. And I’m the one who talked you into coming out here in the first place.”
Free me.
We have to free ourselves first, she thought. Her mind raced. She might be able to get to the slit. She had pitons and could probably make it without pulleys or a harness. She knew how to free-climb and could use the pitons as handholds. And she was the thinnest of them. She could try to force her way through.
Zakkarat was small, but Luartaro wasn’t, and without a harness it might be impossible for both of them to get that high. Still, if she managed to get out she could go for help and bring the right equipment, a drill that could widen the opening, some ropes. That might be the best option.
“Worth a try,” she told herself.
“Annja, look!” Luartaro pointed to a spot high along a wall. “Are those roots? Am I seeing right?”
“Yes!”
“Then, we’re near the surface.”
“But we’re trapped,” Zakkarat said. “I brought you here to see coffins, and now we are trapped in one.”
“Stay with him, Lu,” Annja said. “I’m going up.”
She hurried to the stone directly below the roots and reached into her pack for a piton and hammer.
Just as she drove it into the rock, she heard a great whoosh. She didn’t have to look to know what had happened.
The river had forced its way up the tunnel and into the once-dry chamber.
Pack over one shoulder, rope over the other, Annja worked fast. Using the pitons as steps, she climbed. The light was faint, and it shifted as Luartaro sloshed around and inspected the cavern. She was certain he was looking for other passages. She prayed he would find one.
The rush of water was loud, echoing against the stone and mixing with Zakkarat’s worried voice and Luartaro’s reassuring one.
Her breath came in strong, even bursts, and her heart pounded. The toes of her boots scraped against the rock. The rain pattered down, finding its way through the cavern slit. And through all the sounds, the voice in her head whispered, Free me.
The scent of the stone filled her nostrils. She canted her head back to gauge how far she had to go to reach the roots and possibly how much beyond that to
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