Orphans - Kevin Killiany [32]
Kairn gripped the d’k tahg by the tip of its blade and drew his arm back until it hung behind his shoulder. He needed the native three steps closer.
If he understood the threat, the giant ignored it. Weapons sheathed, buckler across his back, he closed on Kairn with deliberate strides.
The d’k tahg sank to the hilt just above the native’s knee. The leg bent the wrong way, tendons that had to be there severed, and the giant went down, wailing in agony.
Again Kairn started toward Lauoc, but shouts from the trail told him native riders were just below the crest of the rise. The only hope of victory lay in bringing back a rescue force.
Empty-handed, without weapon, food, or water, he turned and ran for the ravine.
CHAPTER
17
Pattie gloried in her pain.
Light, wonderful light, beautiful light, filled the metal chamber and sent stabs of perfect agony lancing through her skull. She laughed and cried, her crystalline voice echoing off the silver walls as she covered her closed eyes with her arms, trying to shut out the delicious brightness.
Drunk with joy, she barely had the wit to roll clear of the trapdoor before surrendering herself completely to the wonder of letting her eyes adjust. She was not blind, she thought giddily; the tunnel had been dark.
From the sound of the echoes of her laughter, she was in a large room. From the one glimpse she had had before having to squeeze her eyes tight against the brightness, the walls were made of metal. She could hear a thrumming sound—pumps?—and the drip of liquid, and could smell metal and stone and none of that heavy mustiness that had haunted her through the tunnel.
She had been in total darkness for—how many days? She was not sure.
Briefly, fitfully, she had slept at one point, tied to the ladder in darkness, and once before that in the tunnel far below, and—she was now sure—she had been unconscious for some time after the blast. But counting sleep periods was not an accurate calendar. When one considered the effects of injuries, stress, exertion, and, she could admit it now, terror, it was highly unlikely she’d been following anything close to her normal sleep pattern.
Alone in the tunnel she had not dared dwell on her condition. With no water, food, or medical supplies it would have only served to emphasize her plight. At the moment she still had none of those things, but she had light. That gave her the courage to assess her levels of dehydration and hunger.
By the time she could discern objects around her unobscured by glare and halos, Pattie was reasonably sure it had been five standard days since the explosion. The suppleness of her injuries seemed to indicate days longer, but the constant physical activity may have accelerated the healing process.
She rose cautiously to her feet, looking carefully around her. The walls and floor were indeed metal, though a dull gray now that her eyes weren’t overwhelmed by photons. The light came from polished mirrors set high along the nearest wall, reflecting ersatz sunlight.
Twelve meters away the far end of the chamber was open, revealing only the haze of the upper atmosphere. From the level of glare Pattie guessed the light source was quite close; it would be early morning in the world below.
The metal walls of the room gave way to stone for the last few meters, and the opening itself was irregular. She had no doubt it appeared to be a natural cave from the outside.
It occurred to her that if she was now level with the upper atmosphere, she had climbed the giants’ ladder for over a kilometer. As near as she could tell, there was no entrance to the chamber other than the trapdoor. What sort of race considered a kilometer-tall ladder a sensible way to get from place to place?
A very tall race,she answered herself, looking at what were apparently control panels set into the walls above her head. At least four meters tall.
Only one panel was active: a row of lights and an analog gauge that seemed to be counting something down. Time would be the most likely guess, but Pattie knew anything was possible. Though