A Single Stone by Meg McKinlay Page B

had not done this before – none of them had. But she knew what was needed. She passed the lamp to Renae and squared her shoulders.
    Jena felt herself doing the same. What did it sound like when a bone splintered? She forced back the nausea that threatened to overtake her.
    “Take her hands,” she said. “Pull.”
    Even as Calla began, Jena’s mind tumbled with possibilities. If Kari broke – a hip, a leg? – they would have to get her out of the mountain somehow. Pushing, carrying, dragging.
    Kari’s scream cut across her thoughts. In the dim light, Calla’s shoulders strained. There was another sound too. A muted sobbing.
    Min.
Jena felt a stab of disappointment; though this was a lot for a new tunneller to handle, she had such hopes for the girl. But then the light shifted and she saw that it was not Min but Renae, her shoulders shaking.
    “Stop,” Renae begged. “Please.”
    Jena opened her mouth to reply – to reassure Renae but to caution her too. While this was hard, it was necessary; they must not waver. But before she could speak, Min did so, her voice soft yet firm. “If you can’t do it, then give it to me.”
    “It’s just … what if …?”
    Without another word, Min leaned across Renae and took the lamp. “I’ve got it.”
    Renae slumped against the tunnel wall while Min angled the light towards the opening. Calla began to pull once more and Kari twisted, moaning.
    Darkness clotted Jena’s mind. Her hands clenched at her side.
    There was a sound like something tearing, rending itself from the inside out. And then something was on her. Someone. It was dark and then light, shadows spinning wildly. Jena tumbled backwards, throwing her hands out to break her fall. Asha was on top of her, and Loren upon Asha. The line collapsed onto itself as Calla staggered back, pulling the rope taut, and a body with it. In the mad kaleidoscope of light, Jena saw Kari’s face – white, pitching forwards into the tunnel.
    “Kari?”
    There was no answer, just a confusion of limbs. Girls struggled to right themselves, to disentangle. The light flickered, then steadied. The shadows stopped spinning but still Jena couldn’t see. The weight of the other girls was on her and it took all the restraint she could summon not to push them away.
    “Kari!” she repeated, more loudly this time.
    “I’m out.” The voice that answered was shaky, as though it were fighting for balance. “I’m–”
    “You’re hurt.” It was Min who spoke. She lowered the lamp, tracking it along Kari’s body. Loren leaned back and Jena was finally able to see down the line. Kari was half-collapsed on the floor of the passage, arms outstretched, her hands still clutching Calla’s. Her pants hung loosely in ragged strips where they had caught and shredded on the rock. She was bruised and bleeding. But none of that mattered.
    “Are you broken?” Jena asked.
    Kari hauled herself up onto her elbows, then her knees. She ran her hands down her side, along her hips, her legs, gingerly at first, then more firmly.
    “No,” she said finally. “I think I’m okay. I …” She raised her head. “I’m sorry, Jena.”
    Jena gave a tight shake of her head. “It’s not your fault.”
    Perhaps it was her own, for having led them this way, her thoughts upon her own purpose rather than that of the line, or the mountain. But that was not a question for now. Her eyes sought Kari’s across the tunnel. “You’re all right, then?”
    In reply, Kari nodded sharply, her lips pressed together.
    Jena motioned along the line. “Pass me the lamp.”
    Then she turned away down the tunnel, and began to crawl.

    Deep in the mountain, Lia turns her head towards a sound.
    It is muffled, distant, an echo coming to her through thick layers of stone. And so it cannot be what it sounds like, which is a voice, screaming.
    Perhaps it is a skybird. Something outside, wheeling, calling.
    Up ahead, there is a sliver of light, the edge of the sky leaking into