Now We Wait V
They both screamed, though Farrin’s was the more womanish. Horil’s arms had flown up into the air, barely juggling her tools in the rush of gravity. So it was his practiced hands that worked the catch mechanism, and it was he who prayed. Had they fallen too far? Was this the breaking point for bones or muscles? Farrin cried out to anyone who would listen.
The catch held and so did Farrin. Horil’s weight had shifted to one side and she slid with jarring force, her knee joints screaming as they hooked onto the rod. Her momentum swung her with graceful potency and her head collided with Farrin’s more delicate man parts. He lost his grip with a grunt and tumbled.
Scrabbling arms latched hold, only one each, but the seasoned adventurers found their missing grip in short order. Hands locked at the wrists, they hung as only trapezists could. “Nice day for a circus,” Horil said, blood dripping from her nostrils.
“Levity’s a good sign,” Farrin replied, somewhat clenched with pain, “Unlikely a concussion.” He dodged the falling blood with as much decorum as possible, but he couldn’t help worry at being anointed with blood after wishing to whatever forces cared enough to listen. It stank of a binding contract.
“Ok, I’m going to start climbing now, Horil. Are you stable enough for that?”
“I think I’m just going to let go,” she replied.