Off behind him, Richard could hear Jennsen scrambling away.
“Jennsen? What’s going on? What are you doing?”
She was crying out, whining in terror, as she bolted toward the light at the opening.
“Jennsen!” Richard called to her. “Don’t go that way! Stay with me!”
Wedged in as he was, he couldn’t easily turn to see. He forced himself ahead, crabbing sideways, trying to spot her. Jennsen was clambering toward the light, ignoring him as he called to her.
Kahlan wormed her way up to him. “What’s she doing?”
“She’s trying to get out. She sees the opening, the light, and won’t listen.”
Richard shoved the packs and frantically worked his way ahead, moving into the area beyond the tight spot, to where it was open enough that he could at last get a full breath and almost get up on his hands and knees.
Jennsen screamed. Richard could see her clawing frantically at the rock, but she wasn’t making any headway. In a frenzy of effort, she tried to push herself forward, but, instead, she’d slipped sideways farther down the slope, wedging herself in tighter.
Each exaggerated, panting breath as she strained and stretched ratcheted her in deeper.
Richard called to her, trying to get her to listen, to do as he said. In her desperation, she wasn’t responding to any of his instructions. She saw the opening, wanted out, and would not listen to him.
Fast as he could, Richard scrambled through the darkness and around toward the opening, guiding Kahlan, Owen, Cara, and Tom through the only way he knew they could make it. Kahlan held tight to his ankle and he could hear by the panting of effort that the rest of them were all following in a line behind her.
Jennsen screamed in terror. She struggled madly, but couldn’t move. Wedged in as she was, with rock compressing her rib cage top and bottom, it was becoming difficult for her to breathe.
“Jennsen! Take a slow breath! Slow down!” Richard called to her as he scurried around toward the opening. “Breathe slow! Breathe!”
Richard finally reached the opening. He emerged from the dark crevasse, squinting in the sudden light. On his knees, he leaned in and helped pull Kahlan out. Betty scrambled out, somehow having passed the rest of the people. As Owen and then Cara clambered out of the opening, Richard pulled the baldric over his head and handed his sword to Kahlan.
Tom called out that he was going back in to try to reach Jennsen.
As soon as the rest were safely out, Richard dove back into the fissure. Headfirst, on his hands and knees, he scuttled into the dark. He could see that Tom, from his angle of approach, had no chance to get to her.
“Tom, I’ll get her.”
“I can reach her,” the man said even as he was getting himself wedged tight.
“No you can’t,” Richard said in a stern tone. “Wishing won’t make it so. You’ll just get yourself stuck. Listen to me. Back out, now, or your weight will help push you downhill and get you stuck so hard that we won’t be able to get you out. Back up, now, while you’re still able to. Go. Let me get her.”
Tom watched Richard moving around behind him, and then, making a face that showed how unhappy he was to be doing it, he started pushing himself back up into the darkness, where there was a few precious inches’ more room that would let him make it back out.
Richard worked his way through the tight spot and then moved down the slope so that he wouldn’t be facing downhill as he tried to help Jennsen and possibly wedge himself in tighter than he wanted. If he wasn’t careful, he would do the same thing Tom had been about to do. Down in the darkness, Jennsen cried in panic.
Richard, flat on his belly, wiggled and snaked his way deeper, all the while moving to his left, down the pitch in the shelf of rock. “Jennsen, breathe. I’m coming. It’s all right.”
“Richard! Please don’t leave me here! Richard!”
Richard spoke in a calm, quiet voice as he moved around behind her down into the tighter part of the cave. “I’m not going to leave you. You’ll be fine. Just wait for me.”
“Richard! I can’t move!” She grunted with effort. “I can’t breathe! The ceiling is coming down! It’s moving—I can feel it coming down. It’s squeezing me! Please help me! Richard—please don’t leave me!”
“You’re fine, Jennsen. The ceiling isn’t moving. You’re just stuck. I’ll have you out in a minute.”
Even as he worked his way into the low spot, trying to get up close behind her, she was still struggling to move forward, making it worse—there was no way she could go forward and make it out. As she kept struggling, though, she was slowly slipping deeper down the slope and with every frantic breath wedging herself in tighter. He could hear how desperately she was trying to breathe, to draw each shallow breath against the immovable compression of rock.
Finally all the way back around behind her, Richard started pushing himself in the way she’d gone. She had gone into a narrow channel that closed down on the uphill side of her, so there could be no moving her sideways up the slope; he had to get her to back up the way she’d gone in. He had to get her to go away from the light and back into what she feared.
The roof of rock scraped against his back, making it difficult to draw a full breath. He had to take shallow breaths as he moved deeper. The farther he went, he could not even breathe that deeply.
The need for air, for a deep breath, made the pain of the poison feel like knives twisting in his ribs. Arms stretched forward, Richard used his boots to force himself in deeper, trying to ignore his own rising sense of panic. He reasoned with himself that there were others who knew where he was, that he wasn’t alone. With the powerful feeling that a mountain of rock was crushing him, reasoning with himself was difficult, especially when the shallow split of rock he was pressed into hardly let him get any air as it was and he was desperately working himself deeper trying to reach Jennsen. He knew that he had to help pull her out of where she was stuck or she would die there.
“Richard,” she cried, “it hurts. I can’t breathe. I’m stuck. Dear spirits, I can’t breathe. Please, Richard, I’m scared.”
Richard stretched, trying to reach her ankle. It was too far away. He had to turn his head sideways to advance. Both ears scraped against rock. He wiggled, inching in tighter even though his better judgment was telling him that he was already in trouble.
“Jennsen, please, I need you to help me. I need you to push back. Push back with your hands. Push back toward me.”
“No! I have to get out! I’m almost there!”
“No, you’re not almost there. You can’t make it that way. You have to trust me. Jennsen, you’ve got to push back so I can reach you.”
“No! Please! I want out! I want out!”
“I’ll get you out, I promise. Just push back so I can reach you.”
With her blocking the light he couldn’t tell if she was doing as he instructed or not. He squirmed in another inch, then another. His head was almost stuck. He couldn’t imagine how she had gotten in as far as she had.
“Jennsen, push back.” His voice was strained. He couldn’t get enough of a breath to talk and to breathe, too.
His fingers stretched forward, reaching, stretching, reaching. His lungs burned for air. He just wanted to take a deep breath. He desperately needed a breath. Not being able to draw one was not only painful, but frightening. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
As high as they were in the mountains, the air was already thin and it was difficult to get enough air the way it was. Limited to taking shallow breaths was making him light-headed. If he didn’t get back to where he could breathe soon, the two of them were going to be forever in this terrible place.
The tips of Richard’s fingers caught the edge of the sole of Jennsen’s boot. He couldn’t get a good grip on her foot, though.
“Push back,” he whispered into the dark. It was all he could do to keep his own panic in check. “Jennsen, do as I say. Push back. Do it.”
Jennsen’s boot moved back into his hand. He snatched it in a tighter grip and immediately worked his way back a few inches. Pulling with all his might, he strained to drag her back with him. Try as he might, she wouldn’t budge. She was either stuck tight, or was fighting to go forward.
“Push back,” he whispered again. “Use your hands, Jennsen. Push back toward me. Push.”
She was sobbing and crying something he couldn’t make out. Richard wedged his boots, top and bottom, in the tight cleft and then pulled with all his might. His arm shook with the effort. He managed to draw her back a few inches.
He wiggled himself back an equal distance and pulled again. With agonizing effort, he slowly, painstakingly, started drawing her out of the dead end she had fled into in a panicked attempt to get out.
At times, she tried to squirm back toward the light. Richard, the rock compressing him tight, kept a firm hold of her boot and muscled her back yet more, not allowing her to take back any of the distance he gained.
He couldn’t straighten his head. That made it more difficult to use his muscles to move the both of them. With his head lying on the right, he reached back with his left arm and gripped a small lip of rock in the ceiling, using it to help haul them back. With his right arm, stretched forward and holding her by the boot, he drew her back inch by inch.
As he reached back again for another handhold, Richard saw something not far to his left, down the slope, wedged where the rock narrowed. At first he thought it was a rock. As he struggled to draw Jennsen back, he stared at the thing also stuck in the rock. He reached to the side and touched it. It was smooth and didn’t feel at all like the granite.
As he began to make good progress backward he stretched to the side and managed to get his fingers around the thing. He pulled it to his side and continued to wiggle back.
With great relief, he was finally back far enough to where he was able to get enough air. He lay still for a time, just catching his breath. Almost as much as air, though, he wanted out.
While he talked to Jennsen, distracting her with instructions she only intermittently followed, he began forcing her back and to the right, where there was more room. Finally, he managed to move up beside her and seize her wrist. Once he had her, he started moving her back up the slope, into the darkness, into the tight place that he knew was the only true way out.
With him up beside her, she was a little more cooperative. All the while, he kept reassuring her. “This is the way, Jennsen. This is the way. I’ll not leave you. I’ll get you out. This is the way. Just come with me and we’ll be out in a few minutes.”
When they worked their way up into the dark, tight spot, she began struggling again, trying again to scramble for the light of the opening, but he was blocking her way. He stayed close at her side as he kept them both moving forward. She seemed to find strength in his constant assurances and his firm grip on her wrist. He was not about to let her get away from him again.
When they pushed through to the place where the roof rose up a bit, she started weeping with expectant joy. He knew the feeling. Once the ceiling rose up a foot or two, he hurried as fast as he could to get her to the opening, to the light.
The others were waiting right at the entrance to help pull them out. Richard held the thing he’d retrieved under his left arm as he helped push Jennsen out first. She rushed into Tom’s waiting arms, but only until Richard crawled out and got to his feet. Then, crying with relief, Jennsen fled into his arms, clinging to him for dear life.
“I’m so sorry,” she said over and over as she cried. “I’m so sorry, Richard. I was so afraid.”
“I know,” he comforted as he held her.
He’d been in a similar situation before where he thought he might never get himself out of such a terrifying place, so he did understand. In such a stressful circumstance, where you feared you were about to die, it was easy to be overpowered by the blind need to escape—to live.
“I feel so confused.”
“I don’t like such tight places, either,” he said. “I understand.”
“But I don’t understand. I’ve never been afraid of places like that. Ever since I was very young I’ve hid in tight little places. Such places always made me feel safe because no one could find me or get to me. When you spend your life running and hiding from someone like Darken Rahl, you come to appreciate small, dark, concealed places.
“I don’t know what came over me. It was the strangest thing. It was like these thoughts that I wouldn’t get out, that I couldn’t breathe, that I would die, just started coming into my head. Feelings I’ve never had before just started to seep into me. They just seemed to overwhelm me. I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Do you still feel these strange feelings?”
“Yes,” she said as she wept, “but they’re starting to fade, now that I’m out, now that it’s over.”
Everyone else had moved off a ways to give her the time she needed to set herself straight. They sat not far off waiting on an old log turned silver in the weather.
Richard didn’t try to rush her. He just held her and let her know she was safe.
“I’m so sorry, Richard. I feel like such a fool.”
“No need. It’s over, now.”
“You kept your promise,” she said through her tears.
Richard smiled, happy that he had.
Owen, his face tense with worry, looked like he couldn’t help himself from asking a question. “But Jennsen?” he asked as he stepped forward. “Why didn’t you do magic to help yourself?”
“I can’t do magic any more than you can.”
He rubbed his palms on his hips. “You could if you let yourself. You are one who is able to touch magic.”
“Other people might be able to do magic, but I can’t. I don’t have any ability for it.”
“What others think is magic is only themselves tricking their senses and only blinds them to real magic. Our eyes blind us, our senses deceive us—as I explained before. Only those who have never seen magic, only those who have never used, sensed, perceived it, only those who do not have any ability or faculty for it, can actually understand it and therefore only they can be true practitioners of real magic. Magic must be based entirely on faith, if it is to be real. You must believe, and then you truly can see. You are one who can do magic.”