Allamu made his way in complete darkness. An awkward, crouching half-crawl allowed him to follow the trickle of water he had heard earlier. Shouts from the central chamber echoed through the twisting passageways. One of the voices was Sabit’s, but Allamu knew he could not find his way back to help her, even if he attempted to return. His only route was forward.
In a short time, Allamu found a wall of tightly-packed stones where cool water seeped through the tiniest of cracks. He could almost feel the ocean on the other side of the rubble, aching to enter the tunnels. The sea had rejected Allamu’s death once. Would it spare him another time?
Sabit’s scream of pain echoed in the distance.
With the long knife, Allamu began to pry the wall apart, stone by stone.
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