"Did the queen send you here?"
He nodded.
She paused, looking at him carefully. Then said, "Me too. I've been here for months. I think. I don't really know. Didn't start keeping track until I'd been down here a while. She said she was going to take care of me later. I guess she forgot. Or maybe later for an elf is different than later for me. For her, later might mean next time the seasons turn. For me it might mean by the time I get bit by a poison spider and die down here. Was that a friend of yours back there?"
Her rush of words startled him, and it seemed she was hungry for conversation. He nodded.
"What do you want? Why are you following me?"
He shrugged, unable to answer.
"How long have you been here?"
He raised his hand, held up two fingers.
"Hours?" He shook his head. "Days?" He nodded.:
"You're good at this. You've been mute a while, I take it. You don't have to stand there and think about how to communicate. You just do it. Impressive. Well, I'm going home.
Maybe I'll see you tomorrow." She turned to leave. J'role realized she wasn't hungry for conversation. She just could talk a lot.
He ran up to her. She was a magician and might well have the power to get them out. She whirled to face him, the flames glowing around her hands appearing to be very hot, but apparently not affecting her. "I didn't bother you. I don't want you to bother me."
He pointed to himself, then her, then clasped his hands together, and then pointed up.
"If I knew how to get out, I wouldn't still be here. I tried. . What can you do?" She stopped suddenly, looking him up and down. "You must have put up some fight."
Her remark confused him for a moment, and then he remembered his cuts, many of them still bleeding. He was embarrassed. A fight? Most of them, the most horrible ones, were from the elf queen herself, from touching her lovely flesh. He tried to brush the matter aside. He once again pointed at her, and then himself. Then up.
She smiled. Her cheeks puffed sup, lines formed around her eyes. She suddenly became pretty, despite the mud and grime. "You're persistent. Nice. But you can't climb up the pit. The roots come to life…."
He pointed to the thick bruise around his neck.
"Ah, you found that out," she said, examining his neck. "I don't suppose any of your group are adepts in the discipline of thieving?"
He smiled, poked his finger at his chest. She looked disappointed. "Well, maybe we'll talk later?”
She turned again, and J’role touched her shoulder. She quickly whirled around once more. "Don't do that," she said flatly. J'role nodded and then pointed at himself.
"Yes. You're a thief. I thought you'd be able to climb up the wall of the pit-or at least I thought a thief would. But you couldn't. Either it's too hard, or you're not very good.
Either way, it's no help."
She started down the tunnel. J'role stared after her, trying to figure out what to do.
Darkness crept around him as she walked off with the blue fire that blazed around her hand. Frozen with uncertainty, he watched her turn a corner and vanish from sight.
'Not very good," he repeated in his thoughts. He might not have thought much of her, at least compared to the elf queen. But she thought even less of him. He turned and retraced his steps, one hand running along the walls, finding his way back to where his father slept.
The next morning he felt ashamed. The girl had sent him off as a useless boy. And hadn't the elf queen done the same thing? Yet there seemed to be a great difference between the two of them. The elf queen had asked that he give himself up to her. The girl-what was her name? he suddenly wondered-had asked nothing.
J'role knew now it was possible to survive in the tunnels for a long time, even if it was difficult to get out. What did she eat? Had they thrown food down with her? No, she'd been down-in the tunnels too long. And he doubted they would have bothered to send food. This was the place for people the queen had forgotten.
A dizziness passed over him, and J'role thought he might fall asleep again. He wanted so desperately to eat. It frustrated him to know that above him was the most enormous expression of life he had ever seen, and only a few feet below- ground he had nothing.
Fearful of falling unconscious and never waking up again, he crawled around on hands and knees, looking for something he might have missed. Small plants. Deeper roots that he could eat. Something. He began to dig through the dirt floor, the ground wet and cool as he scooped it up in thick clumps.
"Why don't you just let yourself die?" the creature asked. “If we're trapped down here with these two, what fun is that? There's no sport in talking to your father. Why don't you just scamper up the pit and let those fascinating roots rip the life out of you? Give up your life, J'role. Surrender to the misery of your life and stop feeling so bad. This hope you have is making you more miserable than you can imagine.”
The creature's words surprised him, for J'role had never considered himself hopeful. Still digging through the dirt, he asked, "Why do you want me to die?”
"Wait. Let me be clear. I don't want you to die. I want you to kill yourself. And to answer your question, I really don't think you're very happy being alive."
J'role stopped scooping dirt. "Then why did you encourage me to go on a few days ago?"
The creature said nothing. J'role waited a moment more, and when he realized the creature was not going to answer, he went back to digging.
The hole was a foot deep now, and as wide. J'role sent his hands down once more and as they bit into the dirt he felt water rush up around them. Pulling away some more dirt, he peered into the hole. At its base was a small pool of water. Seeing a flash of motion he instantly jabbed his right hand down into the pool, trying to catch whatever had moved in the water.
He pulled his hand up, then clamped his other hand over it, forming a small container. He felt something crawling around on his palms as he walked under the opening of the pit to get more light. Above him the sky and leaves caught the sun's light and turned it a soft green.
Carefully he parted his hands to get a peek at whatever he was holding It was bigger than he; expected, black and brown, with shiny thick skin, and numerous legs. J'role sealed his hands tight before it could get out.
He'd never eaten a bug before, but he'd known other boys who'd done it on a dare. He wondered if he should crush it first or eat it alive. Alive seemed too disturbing a thought, so he squeezed his hands together. When he thought he'd killed it, he brought it up quickly to his mouth so as not to look at it, and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed quickly, surprised to find it did not actually taste bad, and swallowed it. He got to work, digging for more food. Though it took hours, he found enough to feed himself and his father.
"Does your father appreciate what you do for him?" the creature asked.
J'role did not reply. His father's eyes were empty.
As J'role sat contentedly on the ground, hardly full, but satisfied enough, he realized he'd made far too many assumptions about the nature of the tunnels, and promised himself never to assume a place was barren simply because it looked that way at a casual glance.
He would have to examine the tunnels carefully, seek out what could help him, and perhaps learn of the dangers they possessed.
He suddenly had the feeling someone was watching, and quickly turned his head. The girl stood maybe ten feet away, hands on hips, looking at them. "Do you usually just lie around?"
J'role, to his own surprise, smiled.
She laughed, then walked up to him. "My name is Releana. I see you're not always as grim as you seemed last night."
J’role stood and shook her hand. "And this is. .?" she said, turning to Bevarden.
J’role’s father simply stared at her, then whispered the word, "Despair." The word sent a chill through the corridor, and the three of them remained completely still and silent for a moment.