“You have such long legs, you ought to be walking faster,” Wensa snapped at Sabit after bumping into the spear woman yet again.
Sabit led the two of them through the labyrinthine paths between the Wicked Rocks. Above them was a twisting slice of blue sky, but all sides were vast expanses of warped black stone.
“These paths are treacherous,” Sabit replied. “You’ll do no one good to trigger another rockslide. There is no need of urgency. Melcior knows the tunnels well. He will lead Allamu directly to His Honor and the presence of Batuul.” Sabit slowed her pace further as one side of the path fell away into a narrow crevice yawning between rocks. No sign of its bottom could be seen.
“That is the need for urgency!” Wensa said, a look of disgust on her face. “A god who kills birds to merely flaunt its power is certain to be a jealous god. Allamu is blessed by the sea. This god of yours will devour more than his sins. Move!”
Wensa shoved Sabit forward. The motion of their feet dislodged several of the tightly-wedged stones that made up the narrow pathway the two women trod. The loss of those stones caused others to tumble.
In moments, the pathway—and the two women upon it—vanished into the darkness of the crevice.
Wayfarings of Sabit: Isle of the Wicked is copyright (c) 2016 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every weekday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon: https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller