Young Writers Society

Chapter 11

~1,080 words

“We’ll need some rope or something…” mused Shep.

“Hold on Ato,” Fleta started, wading through the sheep that were cowering as far away from the pit as possible. “I have this gash in my hand. Do you have any bandages or anything?”

Shep slapped his face and moaned. “How could I forget about that? Yes, I have bandages. What did it feel like?” Shep started rifling through his bags.

“It felt like a blade was there where I touched the line. I couldn’t see one, and I couldn’t actually feel any metal. One second I was fine, and the next second I had a huge cut through my hand.” As Fleta described this, Shep cleaned the cut with some water, put a wet-looking leaf on it, and bound her hand with a long strip of cloth.

“How does that feel?” asked Shep.

“Better. I think I saw some rope in the far corner.”

Godfrey held onto one end of the rope as Gilfred tossed the other end down into the pit. Everything was silent. A small thud was the only sign that there was indeed a floor at the bottom of the pit. “We need an anchor,” said Shep, peering around at the walls.

“Will this do?” Jay pointed to a rusty eye-hook on the wall.

“This building was obviously built expressly for the purpose of repelling down the pit. Yes, Jay, that will do perfectly,” Shep answered. He tied the rope in a complicated knot that wove in and out of the hook.

Godfrey stuck his head over the edge of the pit, but quickly came up again. “It’s dark as a dragon’s belly down there. Anyone got a light?” Shep, who seemed to have everything in his packs, brought out a lantern and lit it. Godfrey went back to the edge of the pit and held the lantern out beneath him. “What the… This pit is bell-shaped or someth’n. It’s narrow enough at the top but spreads out.”

“That complicates matters,” Shep said. “It means whoever repels down can’t walk down the wall. They’ll be descending with no solid thing next to them.” There was silence.

Finally Fleta spoke, “So… Who wants to go first?” Everyone looked at each other warily, waiting for someone else to speak up.

Jay surprised himself by saying, “I’ll go.”

Shep clapped him on the back. “Scream bloody-murder if something attacks you on your way down or when you reach the bottom.” Jay faced the pit, deciding it wasn’t a good idea to think about how he couldn’t even make it to the top of the rope in gym class. Shep must have seen the look of uncertainty on his face because he offered Jay a square of cloth. “You can use this to slide down the rope rather than climbing down. Just make sure to stop sliding before you reach the bottom.”

Jay could imagine what it would be like it he didn’t stop before the end. He steeled his courage and grabbed the rope.

“Good luck Jay!” shouted Fleta. With that, Jay let go of the edge of the pit.

He slid faster than he would have expected. The air rushed around him, and panic rushed within him. It was so dark it didn’t make a difference if he had his eyes open or closed. It felt like ages before he had the idea to stop. Jay tightened his grasp on the rope that seemed to be pulling up between his hands rather than his hand sliding down it. Jay slowed a bit, but didn’t stop. He caught the rope between his feet and thighs slowing him down considerably. Jay had no idea how far he had come or how far he had yet to go, so he proceeded at this slow place, his muscles cramping.

The air suddenly got colder as Jay became aware of something beneath him. Soon he felt the ground beneath his feet, and relief washed through his body. “I’m down!” he called up, then tugged on the rope. He heard a shout back, but couldn’t make out the words.

A little while later Fleta called down to him from somewhere above him, “How much farther?”

She sounded pretty far off but Jay couldn’t tell exactly where she was. “Keep coming, but slowly. You have a while to go!” When Jay could hear the sound of Fleta sliding down the rope, he called to her again, “Slow down! You’re almost at the bottom.” Jay heard her feet hit the ground, and her sigh of relief.

Next Shep came down, a light dangling from one of his robes. “It’s a good thing I thought of putting loops in this,” he confided to Jay, unhooking the light after he had landed.

As the trolls came down, Gilfred first, and finally Godfrey, Jay thought he heard Shep whisper something to Fleta, “See you proved it to us. Without you, we couldn’t have gotten here. You are not a hindrance.”

After they were all safely on the ground—except for the sheep, of course—Shep shined his light around the vast room. It illuminated a metal door set into the stone wall. They crossed the huge floor in silence, awed by the enormity of the room. Jay wondered how such a place could exist without the knowledge of everyone on the island. Then again, it was magic.

Jay had expected the door to have a complex lock on it, but when Shep tried the handle, it swung open easily. Beyond the door was a blank stone wall, and nothing else. Godfrey held the door open so that it wouldn’t lock behind them. Shep examined the wall, running his hands over every inch.

Finally he turned around a look of worry on his face. “There’s nothing here.”

“What?” Fleta said.

“There’s should be something here, but there’s not. Why isn’t there anything here? Did someone find the sheep already? They can’t have!” Shep looked panicked.

Jay hadn’t realized how disconcerting it was to see the man who was prepared for everything going to pieces.

“Lemme see the wall,” Godfrey growled, stomping up to it like he was going to knock it down with sheer force. Unfortunately, this left no one to keep the door open, and the entire group except for Godfrey watched in horror as it slammed shut. Shep’s flame flickered a deep shade of purple before going out, and they were plunged into darkness.

Then the wall started glowing.