I land on my back. Well, no. That’s not entirely accurate. I actually fall straight down, my feet hitting the bottom of the pit before my knees buckle and I go sprawling backward. Morgan barreling into me certainly doesn’t help. I hit the dirt and she hits me, the pair of us a tangle of limbs before we separate.
Morgan pulls herself to her feet, tilting her head back as she gauges the distance between us and the ground above. She’s no worse for the wear—probably because she, you know, broke her fall on me—though she lets out a soft cry when she realizes that, even with her height, we’re stuck.
I rub my shoulder. It’s nothing that a couple of apples won’t fix, but I had hoped to make them last until we made it to the Summerlands. Before this latest turn, Morgan said we had a day or two before we’d hit the border. Now? It’s probably going to be a little longer.
We had to have dropped close to fifteen feet. I’m actually kind of surprised that a banged-up shoulder is only the latest addition to my ever-growing list of aches and pains—and that’s when I realize that I’m not laying in dirt. It’s, uh, too soft to be packed earth.
Dropping my hand, I run my fingers along the ground. It’s dark down here, so I can’t really see what we’ve fallen into, but it feels like something cushiony, almost like the stuffing from a pillow.
I suck in a breath.
This wasn’t just bad luck or even a shitty coincidence.
This is a trap.
I scramble back to my feet, joining Morgan at staring up at the dark sky. It’s hard to tell just how far down we are, but even if I climb on top of her shoulders, we’d still be a couple feet short. Whoever dug this pit wasn’t taking any chances that their prey could escape.
No. No. I don’t accept that. I’ve made it this far.
“What can you see?” I ask Morgan. I’ve learned already that her night vision is phenomenal. Probably because she’s part of the Unseelie Court, but right now I don’t care why. I only care about how much danger we’re in.
“This was a very clever trap,” she murmurs. She doesn’t sound afraid, though. More like she’s disappointed. “The walls are all smooth so that it’s impossible to climb. It’s full of fairy moss, too. It kept us from harm, but that’s about all it’ll do. You can’t twist fairy moss.”
There goes my fleeting idea that we could create some kind of rope out of it.
That’s okay. I don’t need the moss to do that. I still have my cloak woven from the shadows. I hate to give it up, especially since we’re still in the Shadow Realm and I could definitely use it, but if I can figure out a way to shred it into strips, it might be possible to turn it into a rope.
No. It wouldn’t be long enough.
Wait. I know. Maybe I can use my boot to kick handholds into the smooth dirt. I’m frustrated enough that I’m sure I can kick a couple good ones. It might take some time, but I’m getting out of here. Morgan, too.
“Stand back,” I warn her. “Let me try something.”
The wall surrounding us is dirt, but it’s packed dirt. I don’t even know how they made it so smooth but, to my delight, after a couple of well-placed kicks, I break through some of it. It takes a lot of effort and my boots don’t protect my toes as well as I’d like, but it’s something.
“Elle...” Reaching out, Morgan lays her gloved hand on my shoulder. “Listen.”
I stop kicking. At first, I don’t hear anything. I’m still running on adrenaline, convinced that the only way out is if I kick my way out, and my racing heart is drowning out everything else. I never thought I was claustrophobic before but I’m beginning to think that being dropped into the oubliette in Siúcra really screwed me up. Without Rys to keep me calm, I’m losing it.
It had to happen eventually. After everything I’ve been through, I’m surprised I lasted this long.
I start to giggle. It sounds insane. I know it does. That doesn’t stop me, but Morgan clamping her hand over my mouth? That does.
“Shh,” she whispers. “They’ll hear you.”
Wait— what? Who will hear me?
“—see what we’ve caught. If it’s worth the block, bring it up. If not, kill it, then reset the trap. We don’t have all day. Make it quick.”
There’s a rumble in response, then the little bit of light streaming into the hole dies out as something truly massive blocks it.
It’s a good thing that Morgan is behind me, her hand still covering my mouth. When my knees go weak, my adrenaline leaving me in a rush, only her hold keeps from dropping back to the moss.
I’m not even worried about the kill it order. Not really. Because the block coupled with that oily voice and the huge henchman means that we’re safe. No way will they kill us.
Not when I know how much a human can earn at the Faerie Market.
It’s not just one troll, it’s two, and it takes both of them to reach down into the pit and pull us out. Though I want to fight when the big, craggy arm reaches out to grab us one by one, I don’t waste the energy. I know from experience that they’re super strong and basically indestructible. We’re screwed regardless.