Page 13 of The Awakening of Essensia

He opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut. Then he seemed to think better of it. “We will leave this passage open in case the tide blocks your return,” he said finally. “Good luck.”

She wasn’t sure how far she had gone when her foot found solid ground. Her eyes must have adjusted by now, but the blackness remained absolute. She cursed herself for not bringing the lamp.

If that had been the first test, she had failed miserably.

Keeping one hand to the wall, she crouched low, feeling along the rough rock until her fingers found a narrow gap near the base of the shaft, no more than a few feet in each direction. After confirming there was no other route, she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled inside, sharp rocks scraping at her arms as she edged forward.

Every inch of progress jarred her ribs, the tight pull of the stitches worsening with each awkward shift of her weight. Rock scraped against her side, and she hissed through her teeth.

Drawing her knees forward, she bent her head low, unable to straighten in such a tight space. She placed her hands against her thighs, taking a moment to steady the rapid thrum in her veins.

She shifted, and her fingers brushed the pouch strapped at her waist. She fumbled with the cord and carefully tipped the bundle of leaves into her palm. Prying a few out from under the thin cord, she chewed quickly before placing them between her cheek and teeth. The bitter taste overpowered her senses for a moment, bringing her out of the fog of pain.

She continued her crawl and with it the air grew stagnant, the dread rising the deeper into the cliff she went. She took several fortifying breaths and steadied her thoughts.

Commander Lysander would not send her in here if something truly monstrous waited at the end. At least she hoped he wouldn’t.

I did not promise to bend the rules for you.

The Guard wasn’t about safety, it was about risk, about protecting others even if it meant dying in the dark. She couldn’t assume this task was without danger. The jump from the cliff to the ledge had been risky. With the wind and rain, she could have easily plummeted to the sharp rocks below, but Lysander had expected her to do it anyway. He expected her to face whatever she would find in these tunnels, and like those who came before her, she would.

Her hand plunged into empty air and the rest of her nearly went with it. She jerked to a halt, heart hammering. Carefully shifting her weight back, she felt along the edge.

There was a gap, no more than two feet wide but falling to unknown depths. She could attempt to lower herself in or continue over it. She picked up a loose rock that was digging into her ribs and dropped it into the dark. No sound followed. If she had fallen, it might have killed her. Pressing flat to the stone, she eased herself over the space.

Time slipped by, maybe minutes, or hours, when the sharp unmistakable smell of salt hit her. Another space appeared and she reached forward, feeling to see if she would be able to lift herself over like before, but she was met with solid rock.

Down, then.

She lowered herself into the space, arms straining as her feet found only air. Her breath quickened, and she pointed her toes, her legs swinging as she desperately sought the ground below. She gripped the edge, her fingers grasping painfully at the slick rock.

Then she slipped.

The ground slammed into her, knocking the air from her lungs. Dragging in breaths through fitful coughs, blood pounding loudly in her ears, she stood slowly, arms out for balance.

She found no wall to steady herself on, so she reached up, trying to feel the ledge above.

It was of no use. She wasn’t tall enough.

What if she had gone the wrong way?

What if the tide came in and trapped her there, sweeping her away before she was able to climb back out to the others?

She fell to her knees and pressed her forehead into the wet stone. Her eyes shut, and with them exhaustion crept in, encouraging her to rest, to lie down for just a moment. She could continue once she’d taken a moment to sleep.

No. That was the leaves talking. She’d taken too many. She couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t let herself fall asleep and get caught in rising water.

She had no idea how long she had been down here, and as much as she had tried to remember every turn, she knew she was likely to get lost on her way back. And that was if she could even reach the ledge and find enough purchase to haul herself over it...

She slammed her fist into the ground, over and over, the pain a sharp anchor in the dark. Her knuckles stung, salt clawing at the cuts, but it kept the tiredness at bay. At least for now.

Willing her eyes open, she stared into the blackness, thinking over the instructions Commander Lysander had given her.

Retrieve the marker. Bring it back.

We will leave this passage open in case the tide blocks your return.

In case the tide blocked her return.