Chapter 22

- Noker -

"Is it working?"

Dexer's voice is quiet. He must suspect we're not getting anywhere.

We've managed to pull down enough dirt to make a mound that's maybe half as tall as I am. But now I don't want to make more of it fall down. We've had minor avalanches already, and a lot of the dirt is hanging over us. If it collapses, it will kill us.

I jump and jump, ramming my hands into the dirt to try to stay up and climb the last distance to the rim of the hole. But every time the dirt proves too loose to grab onto. And my thighs are getting tired.

"No," I confess. "I can't reach the top."

"Stand on me," he suggests. "Stand on my shoulders."

I look up. "That won't be high enough."

"Stand on my shoulders and jump."

"I don't want to step on you, brother. Nobody steps on a Foundling and lives to tell the tale!"

He snorts. "We're trying to escape a trap. Silly pride can't rule us now. It's too important. Step on me all you need. I'd be honored to be stepped on by you, Noker. Right now, anyway."

"It will hurt," I tell him. "I need to jump as high as I can. It might snap your spine. I'm heavier than you think."

Dexer feels his way to the dirt wall and stands with his back to it, on top of the mound of dirt. He folds his hands in front of him as a sling for me to step on. "I'm willing to try. Are you?"

I don't want to. Dexer has enough to deal with if he's not going to be brutally used as a stepping stone and springboard in addition to everything else.

"You are a brave man, brother."

"I bet those outcasts don't know how high you can jump," Dexer says. "And I bet even you don't know. Let's find out."

"All right. Forgive me for this, Dexer." I put one foot on his folded hands and place my full weight on it. Dexer groans with the weight, and he sways dangerously. But his hands hold, and I manage to climb up onto his shoulder with one knee, then both feet until I'm standing on him.

"How is that?" I ask, worried.

"Surprisingly heavy and still easy," Dexer reports, his voice strained.

"It's going to get a lot worse." The edge of the hole is still high above. But this must be tried.

I squat down, send a short prayer to the stars, and focus on my thighs, willing them to be more powerful than they ever have.

Then I jump.

I hear a crack and feel something give under my feet, and Dexer groans in pain.

Throwing my hands up, I just manage to stay hanging by my fingertips at the edge of the hole. There's a rock there, round and slippery with sand, but it holds while I inch my fingers further up to get a more secure hold.

It takes me a long time, but I'm finally able to pull myself up and crawl onto the grass beside the pit trap. My fingers are raw, and my thighs feel like slack ropes.

Still I dread looking down into the hole to see how Dexer is doing. Something in him snapped when I jumped, and he's not making any sounds.

I turn and look down. "You all right, Dexer?"

He's lying down on his back, blind eyes staring up. "Not quite."

Oh sweet stars… "Was it your back?"

"My back is fine. It was something else. Here." He points.

"The collarbone. Did it break?"

"It made a noise. And it hurts."

I think quickly. I can only help him if I get down there again, and any help I might render then will be somewhat?—

"Do not get back down here," Dexer says, with unusual force. "Get to our clan and help fight the outcasts! Come back for me later, when our brothers are safe."

He knows me well. "I will, Dexer. Whatever happens, I shall see you in the stars."

"Yes, yes," he says with an impatience that's clearly fueled by the pain he's in. "Why are you still here? Run, man! Run!"

I do as he says.