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“-and the Light will guide us, even now, even here,” Guernon said, placing one foot in front of the other.
It was about all she could manage. One exhausted, dragging foot in front of the other. Keep moving. Don’t stop. They would make it out. They had to.
“I don’t believe you,” Parry slurred in her ear, “but continue. I like your voice.”
The graverobber leaning heavily on her shoulder limping worse with each room they traversed. Her leg, shredded by the Flesh, was taking less and less weight the further they walked.
“The Light reaches all places. I would not have been able… to keep us all alive for as long I did… if its power was not here as well,” Guernon said, pausing to take harsh breaths between each statement.
“And now it’s just us, waddling back up these stupid tunnels to claim we did well. We defeated the fucking monster, conquering heroes!”
Parry swung an arm out, making Guernon stumble as her weight shifted. That didn’t seem to bother the graverobber, as she giggled and flopped more weight onto her vestal companion.
“So long as we can walk back out of this place,” she added, her eyes wet but not leaking.
Guernon sighed a little, but kept her feet moving. If she stopped, she could tell she would not start again, and their passage in the Warrens would not stay clear forever. They couldn’t take another confrontation. The trinkets and remains in their packs proved that much.
“The Light will see us through,” Guernon said determinedly.
Parry scoffed.
“Your pretty legs will see us through. And the one leg of mine that still works. Three-legged race, see who makes it to the end! Just us. Just… just us, actually.”
Guernon swallowed the grief that tried to rise in her throat.
“We won. Their lives were not spent in vain. The Hamlet-”
“Should probably fall into the sea and never be found again. I could find a place for all these people to live. Wouldn’t be pretty, but Dismas can organize a gang, he’d be able to make it work. I bet I could even get the Heir to sign on! They like stupid paperwork. It would work.”
Guernon sighed again, although it came out harder than she meant it to. She was exhausted. Bruises and burns ran up and down her body even through her battleplate, and her mind pulsed in a way that let her know she was teetering on the edge of a breakdown. She had to keep moving. She would not die down here. And she would not let Parry die either.
“Lady Tenebrae would not appreciate you using her as a front for a crime ring,” Guernon said.
Parry huffed, and shot Guernon a look from under the brim of her hat.
“Isn’t she already doing it? You’ve seen the people who come here. I’m here. Only difference is that we’re robbing monsters, not people,” Parry explained, doing a little hop forward only to immediately wince and clutch at Guernon, returning to dragging her injured leg.
“That is an important difference,” Guernon pointed out, “And much of the treasure we carry can be traced back to Lady Tenebrae’s ancestors regardless. These gems, portraits, busts, they all belonged to someone else first.”
“I tried that excuse before, didn’t work,” Parry muttered.
Guernon huffed.
“Because you were robbing human graves?” she asked.
“They were already dead! The hell did they need all those rings for anyway? And they were all money-grubbing, slave-keeping, wife-beating assholes who-”
Parry staggered, and Guernon caught her, keeping them moving all the same. She couldn’t stop, no matter how her body begged her to sit down, just for a minute. She wouldn’t get back up if she did. Parry wouldn’t get back up if she did. They had to keep moving.
“They deserved it,” Parry finally said, with such a deep current of spite that Guernon couldn’t help the smile that twitched at her lips.
“Perhaps the Light agreed, and it’s why you were led here.”
Parry scoffed.
“This place is no reward. You know that.”
Guernon knew it. Everyone in the Hamlet knew it. It was hard to avoid the thought that the Hamlet was the place where people beyond redemption went to die in search of it. But Guernon was not going to admit that, not here and not now. She was going to keep moving. She was going to get out and so was Parry, if Guernon had anything to say about it.
“The Light reaches all places. This place is mired in darkness, but we are the Light’s warriors, clearing the way for its warmth. We are doing good, Parry, and once we get out of here and get your leg tended to, you’ll see it.”
Parry laughed. It was a dry, painful thing.
“Sure. Whatever. How much further do you think we have to go?”
Guernon couldn’t see daylight at the end of their torch trail, but that didn’t mean much considering where they were.
“I don’t know. Less than we had to a few minutes ago.”
Parry groaned, and Guernon could feel her tremble a little.
“You’re just full of stupid uplifting phrases, aren’t you?”
Guernon chuckled. It sounded weak to her ears, the forced sound of someone laughing for another’s benefit rather than actual amusement. Her feet dragged on the packed mud of the floor beneath her.
“It was part of my job. Vestals are supposed to bring Light.”
“You’re blinding, is what you are,” Parry muttered.
Guernon’s breathing was getting harder. Parry’s was too, although she was being quieter about it. An admirable skill. Perhaps Guernon could ask Parry to teach it to her once they were free of the Warrens.
“The Light will see us through,” she murmured, her voice almost sounding hoarse, “We will get out of here… and let them know what happened.”
Parry didn’t respond. Guernon didn’t hold it against her.
One step. Another. Another. Another. The passage stretched on. Guernon’s feet dragged through the filth, but they were still moving. They couldn’t stop moving. They couldn’t let everyone’s bones remain here to be gnawed on by the swine.
“You’re really going… to try and.. get us out… of here?” Parry asked.
Guernon nodded firmly. As firmly as her exhausted body could manage.
“You’re… a good friend. I don’t… know how… to have friends. Real ones, I mean. I’m glad I… met you. You’re… what might have… saved me… from this.”
“I am,” Guernon said with a rasp.
Parry shook her head.
“Not… yes, this place… but… this. Me. Graverobbing. If I’d had… even one person… willing to stand… with me… maybe…” Parry sighed, and her head lolled against Guernon’s shoulder. “No point… pondering… maybes…”
Guernon took a slightly deeper breath and asked, “Leopold?”
Parry chuckled breathlessly.
“A little,” she admitted.
Silence returned. Guernon tried to ignore how each step forward took twice the energy of the last. They had to keep moving. They would keep moving.
Guernon almost didn’t recognize when the ground changed texture, filth and silt becoming packed earth instead. She did recognise the glow of the sun, however.
“Light!” she croaked, and forced herself to stagger forward, “Light!”
Parry moaned something incomprehensible, but did her best to keep up.
The Coachman waited for them, as if he’d never doubted anyone wouldn’t emerge from the Warrens. Guernon was able to drag herself and Parry forward, leaning against the opening in the back.
She was almost terrified that they wouldn’t be able to climb in, before the Coachman appeared beside them, lifting first Parry, then Guernon herself into his wagon.
Guernon had been right: the moment she was off her feet, she could tell she wouldn’t be getting up again any time soon.
“The Light saw us through,” she whispered, her voice having given out somewhere in the tunnels, “We made it.”
The coach’s rumbling, normally enough to dissuade sleep, saw Guernon pass out in minutes.