“The house likes to test people, remember? Apparently it’s your turn. So, yes, it’s not going to be a clear shot. Just remember that, although the house isn’t necessarily on our side, it’s also not against us.”
She blinked, assimilating that. “I begin to understand why you’re so messed up, growing up in this place.”
Absurdly, he nearly smiled. He’d never expected that anyone would ever know so much about him, certainly not via direct experience. “I would say you have no idea, but—as you pointed out—you clearly do.”
“At last, I’ve transcended the phrase of doom.” She pushed past him, lithe and silky, then—without pause—knelt and crawled inside, firmly pushing the bag ahead of her. “I’m keeping my eyes closed,” she called back to him in a muffled voice. “Maybe if I don’t see it, I won’t be so bothered.
Oh, yeah, that always works, his sardonic inner voice commented.
Jadren didn’t reply. He was too busy hoping Seliah could keep going. Locking the little door after himself—he really didn’t need anything sneaking up behind them—he pocketed the key and made the contorted turn to follow after Seliah. Good thing the tunnel was dark. If he’d had to fight the temptation of having Seliah’s delectable rear in his face, he probably wouldn’t succeed. As it was, he decided to focus on whatever still rattled around in his lung, however less painfully now. Maybe with the boost of Seliah’s magic in him he could direct some of the healing to that spot.
Concentrating on that got him through the seemingly interminable crawl, and the increasing worry about what he’d do if Seliah lost her shit. She’d been slowing incrementally, her breath growing audibly pitched with anxiety, each shove of the bag before her preceded by a more pronounced hesitation. If they were lucky, they’d reach the end—or reach something—before she lost her nerve entirely. But, who was he kidding? The house wouldn’t let it be that easy for her, Seliah’s resolve notwithstanding.
Sure enough, on the heels of that thought, the walls of the tunnel groaned, the wood creaking as it shifted. Seliah froze. “Have to keep moving,” he reminded her, going for steady and calm as a first stage of motivation.
“I’m sure it’s my imagination, but for a moment I thought the walls were closing in,” she replied in a breathless voice.
He’d been hoping she wouldn’t notice. “Just your imagination,” he reassured her. As if annoyed by the lie, the walls creaked again, contracting enough to brush his shoulders. Seliah squeaked in alarm. “It’s just a test,” he told her calmly. “The house won’t kill us. It just wants to play with us a little.”
“So, nobody ever finds bodies in the walls or caught in some ghoulish trap?”
“Never,” he lied. There were always those who failed the house’s tests. The House El-Adrel denizens maintained a lively running debate on what those failures had in common, along with a betting pool on who would be next to disappear—and whether they’d be heard from again. The walls creaked, tightening more.
“I think you’re lying to me.”
“We have to keep going,” he repeated. “If we stop here, we will be trapped. If you can find it in yourself to forge ahead, we just might survive. We’ve come so far already.”
She began crying softly. “I’m sorry, Jadren. I just… I don’t think I can.”
She’d made it so far, too. He considered his options. Cajole? Bully? Physically drag her? He was at a loss, completely unequal to the challenge. Nothing new there, but…
Then it occurred to him that the house was actually testing him with this trick, not Seliah. “Yeah, fuck you, too, you bitch,” he muttered to himself.
Seliah began sobbing. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Not you,” he said, a bit too harshly, beyond aggravated with himself.
“I am sorry though,” Seliah got out. “Shit! After the box and the hunters, I promised myself that I wouldn’t do this again.”
“It’s not something you can control,” he told her. “You feel what you feel. Let me help you.”
“Ho-how?”
“Lie down flat, on your side.”
“What??”
“Just do what I say for once in your life.” He felt around, found her ankle, tugged gently on it to straighten her leg. “Lie down on your side, arms stretched over your head.”
Trembling and weeping, she complied, and he scooted up beside her, wriggling his way on his side, pulling himself along with one outstretched hand, using the other to hold down her gown so it wouldn’t ride up. All he needed was her naked crotch pressed to his groin.
Finally he made it up to her face, folding his outstretched arm under her head to make a pillow, holding her and caressing her long body in soothing strokes with the other. “Seliah,” he crooned, making a lullaby of her name, brushing his lips over her wet face to kiss away her tears. “It’s all right. I’m here with you. We’re together.”
“You h-hate me,” she sobbed. “I don’t blame you.”
“I don’t hate you at all.” Exactly the opposite.
“It’s all my fault that you got trapped here. If it weren’t for me, you’d never be in this position. And now we’ll end up as corpses in the walls of this place. Or I will.”
