From behind. "I have no plan to become a battler." She said, following. Silent at first, then a minute passes. "Where are we going?"
Merrin fumbled his steps, kicking stones in short bursts. Painful. Annoying when added to her words. Where? How was he to know? Did she expect some sagacious nature in him? A stone slab supported his resting hand. But he understands…
A need for destination was paramount. Problem was the lack of detail—not even the sound provided. Around was a dark emptiness, perceivable walls miles apart. Like a world. In here, he felt an entire world had been hollowed out.
Even with the ocular prowess, the sheer width remained elusive. Unknowable. He felt small in the expanse. Catelyn, he observed, couldn't see as he did, yet the enormousness had imprinted itself upon her. She trembled at mere shuffles and scanned frantically.
These were the makings of madness.
The depths seemed capable of that.
I must be stable. Merrin found a slope, emptying into a spread of land. He looks to Catelyn, warns her, and slides in. It is easy, he noticed. Less troubling for the pained parts of his body. Soon, he crawls to his feet, hearing the brief gasps of Catelyn.
She slips down and stands now beside him, watching, redundant as he had already marked the land. There was nothing. Outside the broken stones, slouched pillars, and boulders, nothing lived on the terrain. He watches for a moment and says, "We should continue."
Catelyn clicks her tongue. "What are the chances that we aren't walking into those statues?"
Very low. Merrin thought, said, "If we are walking into them, then we are sure to die. I don't see the point in wailing at it."
"Says the martyr." She mocked. "Wouldn't you prefer to die with your people?"
She does not call them the witnesses or slaves anymore…My people. Merrin liked the words. "I will find them." This he said to her and himself, then allowed his steps prominent in his awareness. The silence ruled them; Catelyn had forsaken the calm breathing.
Is she giving up? He wondered. Believed so. But…she is smarter than I. He said, "You're breath is loud."
"As you said." She was touching parts of her dress; scars had appeared on them, revealing. "What is the point in secrecy when a statue might already be following us?"
Merrin sees the need to assure her. "There is no one following us."
She quiets for a moment. "And how would you know?"
"I just will." The true answer. He did not know—this could be a gift of the caster or El'shadie…or both.
Catelyn sighs. "You are impossible."
Why am I? Merrin thought to ask, but another took precedence. "Tell me what you know."
"I know a great many things. "
He heard pride, said, "About Yoid. You seem to know him."
"I know him because I can read." She slowed her steps.
Attacked. She must feel attacked by the question.
Question of trust. Merrin allowed her a second to breathe. "I mean no offense," he said, "I just want to know about him…and what you heard."
"Nothing." Catelyn said, "Most of your words were muffled. Clearness returned when he called himself Yoid the truthful. I already suspected. No one was that lucky."
"I should follow your instincts more."
"The path to wisdom." She said, and moved to his side. "Fortunately, he loved his own voice."
She thinks Yoid wasted time because he likes talking. Merrin thought, said, "And about the others?"
"What others?"
"The stone writings? Shaedoran. Orvalen. Auwale."
"I don't know." She said, "I've only ever read two, and both are incomplete."
This information must be valuable…Merrin considered the freedom with which she spoke. Bonding. Both of them, through near-death, had bonded. Would she now become a creature like the witnesses?
He hoped against, asked, "What did the first one have?"
She took a sharp breath. "Not for you to know."
Merrin smiled. Good. Defiance. Curiosity remained, but not now. Her secrets were hers, his belonged to him. That relation must endure.
They moved together, Merrin leading, Catelyn falling behind, attempting to reach his side. "You're too fast!" She cursed.
"I'm not." Merrin said, "I simply see my path!"
"Almighty damn anyone who isn't a caster."
That could be seen as breaking one of the commands. Merrin thought then about her patron saint. Dismissed it and advanced. She eventually fell into roll, side by side. Solemn as the undermine enforced into one.
He, too, was plagued by the somberness. He thought: What if he isn't protecting my witnesses? Merrin pondered the hidden nature of the slave—the one he forced into the role of protector. Was the job carried out in earnest, or was death a thing now visited upon his people…
Savior, protect them!
Merrin paused and wrote the words. Catelyn startles at the sudden stop and curses him for not alerting her. He apologized, but knew the event sure to happen again.
And it did.
Over and over, he stopped to pray. She overtook him, noticed the missing partner, and called out. He would answer, often stopping mid-write. It was annoying to respond, but he had to. That or she wandered off to death. Who knew if another cliff existed?
She fronts him, nearly stepping on the glyph prayer on hard ground. "Didn't you make your people believe you are a god?"
Again with the taunts…She and Yoid shared that. "I believe in a higher one."
She places her hand on her waist, groans. Merrin guessed the pain remained. "Are you okay?" He asked.
"Can you heal me?"
"No."
"Then no." She said, taking in large breaths. "Be fast. I don't like this place."
"Okay." Merrin asked, "Which one?"
"Huh?"
"The mines or the undermine? Or is it general?" An attempt at a quip.
Catelyn wore coldness. As always, the joke never works. Merrin stood, rubbed the sore parts, thought: What are the chances that a cleanseWitch is a slave?
He chuckled at that, a thing that brought him a hard stare.
Catelyn sighs. "You don't know where you are going, do you?"
Merrin listened, said, "Until now." Nose pitched. "I smell water."
"Impossible!"
"The casted one." Merrin said, "It has not yet completely dried."
"What is that?" She asked, "It's impossible that you can create symbols… where did the water come from?"
He pointed at her. She cringes. "You used my sweat?"
Smart. "Yes."
"Disgusting!"
Merrin heard lowlander women obsessed with the body scent. Was that the reason for her anger? He thought a remark such as: Then the mines will be filled with my scent. Would come…I guess not.
She did leave three steps between them.
Is she disgusted by me?
He moved with the splashing sound. Water on stone, that unnatural noise. One, all humans only heard with the rainwater. Faster, he nearly ran. Catelyn maintained the three-step closeness, often spitting out. Water was a rarity; wasting it on spittle was odd.
Ahead, a fluid thing flowed to the left. A channel had formed; three meters wide, the length stretched to both sides. He imagined that from the fall, the water had cascaded here. Good. Anyone would hear it.
Thirsty humans would surely come for it.
He reached the water, stood at the gully. It's transparent shade, casting back his face. Imagined, of course. No light existed to birth the reflection. His froststone, however, shimmered back—blue.
Stray water splashes onto his legs, and Catelyn jumps back. She scowled, brows knitted. Merrin did not understand the disgust. This was her symbol, close enough at least. Her scent—musky, but hers.
He shrugged. Never before did he understand lowlanders. Now wouldn't change that.
His finger dipped into the water, chill but warming. Steam was already fuming away. He said, "In a day or two, the whole water will be gone."
"So?" she remains further, before a boulder. Merrin knows her unawareness of that. She could slam into it.
He answers. "It might be an important landmark. In case we get lost."
"How long do you plan on staying here?"
"I don't know." Merrin said, "It's not like it's my decision."
She hisses. "Give me light!" Commanding.
"Huh?" He turns to her.
"I can't see the water."
"So?" Confusion remained.
She frowns. "So if we are marking the terrain, shouldn't I also see it?"
There was logic…But. Merrin scans the area. What if? He said then, "Alright!"
A moment.
His radiance waved out. Bright white across the vast scape, birthing and killing the shadows. He stands, burning with a brilliance. The force calmed him. he said, "Happy?"
"Not till I escape," Catelyn said, pinched her nose, and moved to the water. Her reflection looks back, Merrin beside her was inhuman—just a torch of white light shaped as man. This startles him, and the light flickers.
Catelyn scowled, said, "This place is very big."
"Yes."
"And old."
"Yes."
"Anything else?" She looks to him.
Merrin tilted his head. "What?"
"Anything to add other than the yes?" She raised her brow.
"Not like the shapes of the great clans."
"Yes. And how would you know?"
Merrin shrugged. Yes, how would I know?
They both mocked his intelligence.