Blackness. Not even a sliver of light passed through the panel. At first, Jig didn’t even want to breathe. He could hear sounds of combat in the hall. If he pressed an ear to the panel, he could even make out the cracking and popping of flames. A clatter of bones told him the fire had overcome whatever black art held the creature together.

“I hate this,” Riana said.

Jig didn’t bother to respond. He wasn’t too happy with the situation either, but at this point he didn’t know what he could do about it. At least they were safe. So he continued to listen to the fighting, wondering which side would come out alive. So to speak.

Only then did it occur to him that he didn’t know how to open the alcove from the inside. The dead warriors probably didn’t mind being trapped here for years at a time, but Jig did. Even ignoring the stench, he would quickly starve to death. With Riana here, he might last an extra week or so before hunger killed him.

If the adventurers lost, would the creatures leave him here to die? Or would they be intelligent enough to open the panel and finish him off? Of the two possibilities, Jig didn’t know which one frightened him more. A quick death was always better, that was a goblin truism. But whoever made up that truism hadn’t been fighting animated corpses. The idea of dying at the hands of those creatures left him queasy.

Riana spoke again, distracting him from what was happening outside. “I would have ended up like that.”

Remembering the hard, tight feel of her severed finger, Jig thought she was right. Those things had the same shriveled look to them. Were they adventurers who had fallen prey to the same trap that had caught Riana? Or did the Necromancer have other ways to collect his soldiers? This whole place could be nothing more than a trap, one designed to provide new corpses for the Necromancer.

“I hate this,” she said again. “Can’t we make a light?”

Jig threw up his hands, forgetting that she couldn’t see. “Barius neglected to give me a lantern of my own. And Ryslind hasn’t taken the time to teach me magic. So I’m afraid we’re stuck in the darkness.”

“Don’t push me, goblin,” she snapped. “I’d wager my knife can find your heart even in the dark.” The anger drained from her voice at the end, though. Jig heard her shift position. It sounded like she had backed into the corner.

“I’ve never known darkness like this. Outside there were always the stars. When I scraped together enough gold for a night indoors, or when some innkeeper took me in out of the snow for a night, I always slept in the common rooms, with a fire blazing.”