Page 71 of Spelunking Through Hell

“This is a bad idea,” said Sally.

“I’m allowed to have the occasional bad idea,” snapped Thomas.

Sally sighed. “I’m going to go get Phoebe,” she said, and stood, vanishing.

“Bones,” I said. Then, “General.”

“Anything relating to organ damage?”

That was an alarming question, especially given that the spells contained in my tattoos could only be used on myself. I wanted to ask which of my organs had been damaged—maybe my lungs, if my ribs were even more badly broken than they felt—but the question felt like too much work. Instead, I frowned and asked, “Why bad idea?”

Even that was too much work. I wanted to go back to sleep.

Thomas swallowed, looking haggard enough that what I wanted didn’t matter as long as I could make him stop looking like that. “It was... difficult breaking the barrier from the inside. It took even more effort than I had anticipated. I had to keep ripping the pneuma off of you long past the point where I wanted to stop—your blood pressure was clearly far too high, and your temperature was spiking badly, but we’d gone so far and used up so much of what we had that stopping would have killed us all, you probably included. So I kept going.”

He sounded so genuinely sorry about that that it hurt to hear. I was already in physical pain; I didn’t need to be in emotional pain at the same time. I tried to lift my hand to comfort him, and it didn’t want to respond. Oh, that was frustrating. I frowned. I could still do that much, at least.

“But we made it! Alice, we made it. We’re out. We’ve been trying to resuscitate you since then. You have several broken ribs, judging by the way you’re breathing, and you had at least one heart attack. Possibly more than one.”

That didn’t make a lot of sense. CPR alone won’t bring someone out of a true cardiac arrest, just keep their blood moving long enough to prevent brain damage before their heart can be restarted. I frowned more.

“I may have exhausted us both getting us out, but it’s a sorry sorcerer who can be dropped into a dimension with more ambient magic than that hellhole and not manage at least a small electrical charge,” said Thomas.

So he’d been shocking me back to life? Useful man. I smiled and closed my eyes.

He shook my shoulder. “I know you’re tired, love, I know you want to sleep, but I need you to stay awake. It’s going to take me time to recharge, even with access to a living pneuma. I can manage small, elemental things right now because I’m an elementalist before anything else. I can’t manage a healing. I’ve never been able to do that, and there wasn’t enough ambient magic in the bottle to let me learn. If you want to repair the damage, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

“Not right now, she won’t,” snapped a beautifully familiar voice. I couldn’t turn my head, but I could still smile, and so I did that.

“Helen,” I rasped.

“Hello, you beautiful fool,” she said, voice softening. “Even Tyche’s love wasn’t enough to save you this time. You ran faster than we could follow, and by the time we caught up, you had already gone into the jar.”

“Aikanis?” I asked. Three syllables seemed to be about my limit right now.

“Naga wasn’t pleased to return the book but recognized that an Ithacan descendant’s claim superseded his own. He surrendered it rather than fight with Phoebe, and oh, you should have seen that old snake squirm. He wasnotpleased to hear that you’d gone on ahead, or that you intended to enter. It could have been a suicide mission.”

“Technically, it was,” said Thomas. “She did die.”

“And don’t think I won’t be discussing that with you, at length, once she’s stable.” The soft clop of Helen’s hooves came closer. “Which she isnotright now. Sally tells me you were trying to coerce Alice into using some of those tattoos she’s covered with, and I know you weren’t doing that, because we both know that her humors are already out of balance with themselves. Unbalancing them further could only have negative effects on her health.”

“Which would be less extreme if her heart weren’t damaged!” Thomas protested.

Helen sighed. “Aceso, grant me strength,” she said, almost under her breath. “Get out of here, now.”

“But—”

“There are to be no ‘buts,’ human. The people you saved, at theexpense of your own Odysseus, need you. They wait for your wisdom, such as it is, and they put no faith in Phoebe’s word. If we’re to navigate them home, we’ll need you to calm their anxious nerves. Get out.”

Thomas looked at her bleakly, then turned back to me and squeezed my hand. “I’ll be right outside,” he said. “I’ll be back in an instant if you need me, I promise you I will. I’m so sorry, Alice.”

Helen snorted. “As you should be. Now go.”

Thomas let go of my hand. I would have grabbed for him if my arms had been working. Instead, I could only watch helplessly as he straightened and stepped out of my field of vision. A bare instant later, Helen stepped into view and crouched down, placing something cool and damp that smelled of herbs on my forehead.

“Koalemos has been with that man for a very long time,” she said, settling beside me. “Only the God of Fools could have sustained him in your absence. Or perhaps he watches over you both, you lucky, lucky fool. Although your luck failed you in this instance.”

I made a small sound of protest. She shook her head.

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