Ever by Gail Carson Levine Page A

theknife again. Instantly the drag of him on my shoulders pulls it out. I try a narrower space with the same result. Another attempt. Another failure.
    Over and over I stab the rock wall.

40

    KEZI
    I N THE MORNING I awaken with a dry mouth and gnawing hunger.
    The sky is clear. Above is Enshi Rock, and next to it—much smaller—is the daytime three-quarter moon.
    I wonder if Olus is still undergoing his trial. It comes to me that his trial must be, or must have been, his worst fear. He would be shut in somewhere.
    Could he be trapped eternally?
    If he is being brave, I must be too. I approach the tunnel, then back away. First, food and water. If I mustn’t eat or drink in Wadir, I shouldn’t leave this world hungry.
    Twenty minutes later I find a brook. I drink and drink. Tiny fish abound in the sparkling water but slip between my fingers. After half an hour I see a big carp swimming lazily my way.
    Out of habit I pray, Thank you, Admat!
    I catch it with my hands. It struggles, but I hang on. On the ground, it flops about as I drink again, more than I want.
    While I’m with the warkis, I’ll search for Admat. The holy text says he is visible in Wadir. If I find him, I’ll beg him to let Pado break his oath and to send a sign that my family and Nia will understand. Only Admat can grant me an ordinary long life in Hyte with Olus.
    I carry the fish to the tunnel and use the glowing branch to light a fire. When the fish is cooked, I tear into it. The morning is almost over.
    Holding the branch high, I enter the tunnel. As soon as I descend a step, the scent of roses is replaced by a smell of mold. Olus’s stalwart wind has wafted away.

41

    OLUS
    I LOWER K UDIYA TO the ground and prop his back against the rock wall. The water laps at his chest. His lips are parched. We’re in a well, and he’s thirsty, and I’ve failed to notice. I cup my hands and bring water to his mouth. He’s unable to drink, but I moisten his lips.
    Climbing is possible only without him. If I leave him, I won’t become a champion. He’ll die and Kezi will die.
    Above is a coin of blue sky. Perhaps someone has noticed Kudiya’s absence and has returned from the brother village. I cry out for help. No one comes.
    The rock wall is pulsing again. No, it’s not.
    I’m certain the well is smaller than it was when I landed here. It will shrink and shrink until I am plastered against Kudiya, crushing the last life out of him.
    He cries, “Mati!” and tries to stand. “Mati!”
    He’s delirious. I ask him anyway, because I am halfdelirious myself, “Kudiya, is the well closing in on us?”
    Eyes wide, he looks around. He pants, “Yes.”
    He thinks so too!
    â€œMati!” he shouts.
    I pace the diameter of the well, toe to heel in the water. Five feet. I pace again to be sure I counted right. The water swirls around me.
    Four feet.
    I pace again.
    Five feet.
    Four feet.
    Three feet!
    Five feet.
    I can’t stop counting.
    Five feet.
    Four feet.
    The well is playing with me.
    Five feet.
    Four feet.
    I need to know if the well is shrinking. It’s the fact I need most.
    Five feet.
    My ears are drumming.
    Four feet.

42

    KEZI
    S OMETIMES I HAVE TO crouch to continue down the stairs. Sometimes the tunnel ceiling is so high that I can’t see it, not even when I raise my branch, which glows steadily. The air is cool and wet and sad. I feel I am breathing in and out sadness.
    The steps are uneven. I slide my palm along the wall for balance. Keeping from falling takes most of my concentration, which may be why this realization is so slow to come: I don’t know how long I’ve been in the tunnel. Down here there is no difference between day and night. I won’t be able to count the days until my sacrifice.
    But I must! I stop. My time is so precious. I have toknow how much is left.
    Even if I lose my chance at immortality?
    Maybe. I can’t think in