The trembling in her hand grew more intense. “Kre,” she said with a hoarse whisper, “this is not an underground cave system.”
He barely heard her. He was too preoccupied with the odd wall in front of him. “Hmm? What was that?” He moved his questing hand off to the side, following one of the seams.
“These are ruins. Ancient ruins.”
“They do seem pretty old,” he agreed, not quite catching on.
Kitalia’s spatial awareness was remarkable as her free hand landed directly on the same spot on Kre’s shoulder as had all of her prior punches. “No… I mean, they are the ruins of a city that belonged to the Ancients.”
Though her hit had caused him no small amount of pain, it was the realization of her words that knocked the wind out of his lungs. The impact of where they were suddenly dawned in Kre’s mind and the hand that had been exploring the wall jerked back as if bitten by a snake. “We need to get out of here,” he said, feeling his own body tense up and his heart start to race. “Heritage sites that haven’t been cleared can be exceptionally dangerous.”
Kitalia was taking slow, deep breaths next to him, not answering. At this point, there was no way to tell which of them was causing the majority of the trembling in their clasped hands. “Kre,” she said finally, almost through clenched teeth. “We are not safe here… not here in the open.”
Taking a deep, calming breath of his own and nodded. He realized the futility of that action almost immediately and quickly added a verbal confirmation.
“We need shelter… and we need it fast…”
Despite her words, Kre didn’t feel Kitalia move at all. “Kit,” he asked tentatively, squeezing her hand, “are you okay?”
It took longer than he liked before she seemed to painfully choke out the word, “No.”
Kre had expected as much though, given how she had been acting already. He had also already figured that the only reason he wasn’t in the same state of paralysis was because he was woefully unaware of the specific dangers around them.
“Kitalia,” he said softly, using the same kind of voice he used when shearing one of his sheep, “I’m going to switch hands now and you’ll just follow along with me.” He swapped his hands in hers and then used his left hand to follow the wall. It was slow at first, as he had to practically pull his friend along, but soon she started to walk almost automatically behind him, and it became less effort to move forward.
As they walked, Kre continued to speak softly and calmly, narrating their walk with phrases like, “The wall just keeps going so far,” and “I wonder how bit this building is to have a wall this long.”
They reached the corner of the wall and Kre’s free hand indicated that the wall turned inward at a right angle. They made the turn and made it only a few steps before they ran into an obstacle.
Reaching out in front of them, Kre’s hand felt the touch of cold metal. He ran his hand all over the obstacle and felt the various bumps and grooves that seemed to indicate some sort of intricately decorated metal door. “It’s a door, Kitalia,” he said, using the same voice as before and this time he felt a small squeeze on his hand. A small gesture of her appreciation, he guessed, or maybe it was her way of saying, “Of course it’s a door.”