Emotions were running high. Tove was down for the count, we’d changed direction for reasons unknown, and there had been mysterious & spontaneous crashing sounds, including our own trapdoor. We couldn’t do anything about most of those, but we’d have to do something about the last part, especially since there was no other way out of here. Unless we felt like trying to smash the windows and falling a few hundred feet. Which I didn’t.

  I went over to the trapdoor, grabbing the handle and lifting it. Or trying to lift it at least, I strained, really putting my legs into it (remember, lift with your legs, not your back), but it hardly budged a millimetre, before I gave up and it clanked back down. This was all a bit weird given that I’d been perfectly able to open it when we were coming up here. Also, this place was designed for Gnomes, who aren’t known for being physical powerhouses. It felt almost like there was something on the other side, pulling it down. “A little help please?” I panted. They walked over, each taking one side of the handle, and Alf was clearly unable to resist getting a dig in. “What would you do without big strong men like ourselves, hmm?”

  “I’ll find out when you die of old age next week,” I shot back, “now lift, grandpa.” In fairness to him he took it on the chin, and after a countdown, the two heaved. It really was heaving, complete with all the grounding sounds, gritted teeth, and beads of sweat. “Yet another time, hngh… where I miss, oof… the big guy,” Alf gasped out.

  “Are the old man noises necessary?” I asked.

  “Is a door this heavy necessary?” Nalfis wheezed. “I mean, is someone holding it shut down there?”

  If there was, they were failing. For all of their complaints, the door was moving, just slowly. I knelt next to it, ready to help as soon as there was a gap I could get my hands into. Strangely, there was a faint hissing coming from the edges of the door. I bent further, putting my head next to it to try and hear better. That very nearly proved to be a painful mistake.

  Without a hint of warning, the door swung open at full speed, the two lifting with all their strength as the weight suddenly disappeared. They yelled as they fell back, the metal edge missing my skull by the narrowest margin. I swore violently, and then even louder as a tugging sensation pulled me into the hole (just because I’m immature enough to think like this, doesn’t mean you should be too). It was only the awkward sprawl of my limbs that stopped me falling through and onto the floor below.

  As it was, my left leg accidentally hooked around the hinge of the trapdoor, leaving me to dangle face-first, hanging by a leg and staring at the floor of the walkway as wind whipped around me.

  Wind?

  Comprehension came in a few pieces of context as I got my bearings back, upside-down as they were. On the floor, pieces of glass lay strewn about, illuminated by a flickering white light, which was coming from more of the glowing, floating orbs from earlier. Those facts in combination were pretty worrying, and the worry only grew when I realised Eoin was nowhere to be seen. Bastard or not, I was hoping the thing I thought had probably happened to him hadn’t actually happened to him. The wind whirling around the corridor, blowing in from the smashed section of the window, didn’t give me much confidence though.

  I swayed precariously in the breeze, but I went with it, trying to get a hand onto the ladder. I missed on the first try, hand slipping off the rung. “Whoah,” I exclaimed. Using all of my amazing core strength, I managed to pull a weird, sideways crunch, and got a decent grip with both hands. Since I was still upside-down and also not a fucking gymnast, I had to right myself, which meant unhooking my leg, which meant this was going to suck. Like always, I was completely correct.

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  I pushed as hard as I could with my arms, trying to get myself into what was effectively a handstand, giving my leg some slack. As soon as I had that, I straightened it out, and immediately began to fall. I kept my arms locked so that my face didn’t smash straight into the ladder, doing my best to rotate instead. Of course, that meant that I slammed my shin into the edge of the hatch instead. I swore violently, continuing my fall-swing, and smacking into the ladder in the rough order of chest → hips → shins again, each of them clanging on the next rung down.

  “Owwwwww,” I groaned. It was about the only time in my life that I’d wished I had bigger (or really any) boobs – at least they’d have provided some padding. Instead, I got a nice sequence of bone-rattling impacts and about a million bruises.

  As much as I wanted to throw a pity party, the lightning-ball-things were still right there, ominously still. I’d made more than enough noise for them to notice me, but they weren’t moving. I wasn’t going to look a gift-horse in the mouth though, especially since the last bunch of them had taken a look at me and designated me ‘defective equipment’ – and didn’t that feel even more ominous now?

  I made the aching climb of about 4 rungs, before the lads helped haul me up over the top. I grunted as they manhandled various bruised, tender areas, but since I felt like one big bruise right now I couldn’t blame them. I rolled over the lip of the hatch and onto my back, which was thankfully alright.

  “Any idea of what just happened?” Nalfis asked, concerned. I just shook my head slowly.

  “Normally I’d be the first to make an asinine comment along the lines of ‘you fell through the hatch’, but we’ll take that as read here,” he peered down through said hatch, “in favour of asking about what’s going on down there.” He inclined his head as Nalfis turned around, prompting the Elf to take a look as well.

  The two stood and stared, their hair and clothing flapping in the wind. I knew what they could see, but I had no idea what they’d make of it. “Just because I think someone should ask,” Nalfis began, “where do we think Eoin is?”

  “Fairly sure we can guess,” Alf replied.

  “I know,” Nalfis sighed, dejectedly. “I just had to hope.”

  “Hope you were wrong or hope you were right?”

  “Touché.”

  In case we’re all being too opaque, Eoin had been chucked out of the (broken) window.

  “This is going to make things a bit tricky for us, isn’t it?” Alf grimaced. “Still, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.”

  “I suppose that’s one silver lining.”

  “I’m just full of them.”

  “What about those floating orbs?” That question was directed my way. I groaned from down on the floor.

  “Not sure. They doing anything?” Full sentences would have taken more energy than I felt like using.

  “Nothing I can discern,” he replied.

  “Sounds like we can ignore them then,” I decided, flapping an arm loosely, punctuating my point not at all.

  “Should we shut the hatch?”

  “Can if you like.”

  “Are you planning on standing up?”

  “Not really.” He came and stood over me, looking down in a way that was probably meant to be all stern and paternal, but I was too tired to care about his fatherly disappointment right then. I wouldn’t really have cared regardless, but at this particular point in time I was tired from climbing all the way up this damn thing, emotionally whacked from everything in here, and had just slammed my whole body into a metal ladder. I was completely out of fucks to give about anything right now.