His heart hammering, Dusan tried to find the exit in the sudden darkness, but his outstretched hands met only a pile of stones and dirt. The man he’d been following hadn’t been inside the cave. He must have hidden behind the boulders over the cave’s entrance, waiting for Dusan to go inside before pushing the unsteady rocks, turning the cave into a trap—or, possibly, a tomb.

Dusan pressed his hands to the freshly created wall and strained against it. A bunch of smaller stones rained down on him, increasing the amount of dust in the air. He paused, coughed, then pushed again, growling with effort. The larger stones refused to shift. Perhaps a part of the hill had slid down after the boulders, sealing the entrance completely with dirt.

He stepped back, sweating, choking on the barely breathable air. The man outside was probably running again, heading for the sea, and that put Dusan’s whole village in danger. Dusan had had one job, and he had failed it completely.

It wasn’t over, though. Mirche and the others were looking for him. They would track him down. They would catch the pirate. They would see the fresh earth and the stones, and understand what had happened, and dig Dusan out. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

“Why did you stop pushing?” a voice said behind him.

Startled, Dusan whirled around and peered into the pitch-black darkness. He had forgotten all about the airie. They were trapped together. That introduced an additional complication to the already dire situation.

“How about you help me move the rocks?” Dusan said, straining his eyes.

“I’m not the rock-moving type,” the airie said.

“You could do it with your mind, or however it is that you do things. Can't you summon wind to move the stones?”

“Possibly,” said the airie, infuriatingly invisible.

“Then do it! Do it now!”

“I’m not in a hurry.”

“Please, just do it!” A part of Dusan knew that this was the wrong way to approach it. Begging this creature for help was likely to make him do the opposite, just out of spite. Still, Dusan couldn’t summon the calm rationality that was necessary to diplomatically approach a situation that threatened the lives of everyone he knew—as well as his own. After all, the airie was trapped here, too, so it was also in his best interest to try and get out, wasn’t it?

“I suggest you try removing the stones one by one,” the airie said after a pause.

Dusan stepped in the direction from which the voice was coming, his panic quickly morphing into anger. This was no game, and yet the creature kept playing with him.

“You knew?” Dusan said. “That he wasn’t inside the cave?”

A longer pause ensued. Dusan heard a brief noise as the airie stepped aside. The stones and the dust having mostly settled, he could now track the approximate whereabouts of his fellow prisoner by the sounds of his footsteps. His eyes followed the movement without seeing it.

“I knew he was outside,” the airie said. “I didn’t know he’d make the rocks fall.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he wasn’t inside?”

“I wanted for you to discover by yourself.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Did you like it?” Dusan yelled, surprising himself. “My reaction? Was it amusing enough?”

There was another pause, and the airie, said, “Well, I wouldn’t call it amusing…”

“Clear the exit!” Dusan roared, abandoning all reserve. “Do it! Summon the wind, or whatever you do, just do it! Now!” He stepped blindly towards the airie. Something clanked on the ground under his feet. He bowed and picked up his knife that he’d dropped when the stones had fallen.

You see an airie, you cut them open.

He didn’t exactly see the airie now, but the two of them were trapped in a confined space, so he might manage to corner the creature, and wound him. That wouldn’t exactly be in his best interest, for spilling the airie’s blood would leave him without his special abilities—yet what was the use of those abilities if he refused to apply them?

“I’ll cut you!” He sliced with the knife, catching only air, then stepped forward and repeated the movement. He heard something to his left, and turned, stabbing blindly at the empty space. “Clear the exit or I’ll cut you!”

He felt air move against his neck, and whirled around, stabbing at nothing.

“Stop this,” the airie said, a few steps away. Dusan followed the sound, slicing at the darkness.

“Stop this, or I’ll hurt you,” the airie said to his left, and Dusan made a quick stab in that direction.

“Maybe I’ll hurt you first,” he muttered.

He was, in fact, wondering, why hadn’t the creature already applied his magic to protect himself. He kept waiting for the cold to creep up his legs, but the feeling didn’t come.

A pebble screeched on the floor to his right, and he stabbed there blindly. There was a whiff of air against his face as something moved close to him, and he grabbed with his free hand, his fingers brushing against soft fabric, his fist closing on nothing.

“Stop this!” the airie snapped, something akin to panic in his voice.

“Clear the exit if you want me to stop!”

Dusan raised his knife again. He was still unable to see his own hand, but he was pretty sure that the creature knew what he was trying to do. He slashed at the air again, following the sounds of retreating footsteps.

“Open the doorway, or I’ll keep doing this until I get you!”

“I can’t!” the airie cried from somewhere in the dark. “It’s not that I don’t want to! I just can’t, all right? Now, will you stop?”

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