He often brushed against her foot or hand as he searched. Each time she slapped him away. It was too easy to get turned about in here. Time after time, Jig fixed Riana’s position in his mind, only to run into her in another corner. Bad as his vision might be, he wished for even that poor sight to return. Worse than his disorientation, Jig was beginning to hallucinate. Movements to either side, colors that vanished when he blinked. But Jig had lived his whole life underground. Darkness was not uncommon. While not a welcome thing, anyone who couldn’t cope with the dark tended to die an early death.

Jig closed his eyes and straightened his ears. The most difficult part was letting yourself ignore the lies your eyes told. Eyes were like children. If they had nothing to say, they made things up. Focusing on Riana’s breathing, he continued to search through the bones.

His search turned up a few small coins, an old belt, and a pair of boots that came all the way to Jig’s knees, but no knife or sword. Nothing he could use to free himself from Barius’s noose.

The boots he kept, even though they were a bit too large. Their hard soles would be too loud on the floor, so he tore them off. The threads were loose and broke easily. In the process, he ripped the seams by the toes of one boot, but that didn’t matter. They were still better than bare feet, especially down here, where he didn’t know what he might be stepping on.

More importantly, they gave him a way to hide his bracelet. Goblins had large feet, but skinny limbs, and with a bit of force, Jig shoved the bracelet around his ankle. It might pinch a bit when he walked, but this way Barius wouldn’t take it from him.

The belt tore apart when he tried to use it. The leather had rotted too badly to be worth anything.

“What are you doing, Jig?”

“Trying to find a knife.” Failing to find a knife would be more honest. Wasn’t it Jig’s luck to end up trapped with the only unarmed corpse in the place? If he couldn’t find a weapon, he would have to go back to the bone.

“Why? Didn’t you already cut your throat?” She snorted. “Or are goblins as clumsy at suicide as with everything else?”

“For this noose. I want it off!” Where was the bone he had used before? There were so many. Could all of these bones really fit into one person? Even a human? And what were all of the tiny ones for? There must be hundreds scattered across the floor.