Free Dead Silence by T.G. Ayer Page A

was high above us, shedding angry light on the corpses that remained after the chaos.
    I searched the length of the rift that ran beneath Valhalla, where so many lives had been taken. After an hour, with my fear increasing each minute that I hadn't found Joshua, I'd returned two dozen bodies to the surface, and only six survivors, some so badly injured I didn't think they'd all live through the night.
    My ears rang, my heart beat so hard it felt like it had jumped into my throat, and my fingers hurt from clenching them. But I still searched, sinking deeper into the chasm, feeling the air around me warm up. When I glanced up, the sky looked like a thin strip of light, and all around me the shadows grew.
    The deeper I went the darker it got, but it was the same as up top. Wide in places and incredibly narrow in others. Here, I found two more warriors, caught in the narrow spaces, unable to fall further, bodies broken beyond belief.
    I didn't dare take them up, especially with the length of time that had passed. They were dead, beyond saving. But Joshua, if he was out here and still alive, would very likely be hurt and in need of medical care.
    I couldn't afford to waste any time.
    Continuing my search, I sank further and further into the now near pitch-dark cavern. Visibility was so low I soon found myself searching only for the glint of armor or the reflection of the weak light on pale skin.
    Above me, the surface now looked like a flash of lightning, and my heart hammered against my ribs, screaming at how bad this idea was. I was too deep now, and soon I'd have to give up.
    The walls seemed to be closing in on me and when I felt the pressure of stone on either side of me I realized it had become too narrow to move around comfortably, especially with my wings getting in the way and scraping along the rocks.
    Tears blurred my vision and I blinked them back frantically. Blurred eyes cannot see very well and I might miss Joshua if I couldn't see. I stiffened my spine, urging myself on, trying to convince myself that there was still hope.
    And then I couldn't move. The space was so narrow the my wings were struggling to keep me hovering, and if I went any further I would have solid stone at my back and at my chest, with my only way to climb as if I were scaling a cliff.
    And below me was a bottomless crevice. Nothing but darkness.
    I sucked in a breath. I couldn't go any further. My search had come to a fruitless end.
    I exhaled, trying to swallow the sob that welled in my throat. If I gave in to my despair I couldn't be sure that I would even want to rise to the surface. A voice in my mind suggested that Joshua may not have been anywhere near Valhalla in the first place. Maybe the warriors were mistaken and the man I loved was working hard along with his fellow warriors to save the people of ruined Asgard while I searched the depths of this bottomless ravine on a misguided whim.
    But, I shook off the thought. I couldn't refute what three warriors had said. Joshua was somewhere here. But I couldn't see him. And now it was too dark and too tight to go any further.
    I'd reached the end of the line.
    A sob ripped its way through my throat and I cried out, finally allowing my emotions to crash to the surface. My fingers closed and fisted of their own accord and before I knew what I was doing, I began to pummel the wall in front of me. Taking out my grief and fear and frustration on the rock wall.
    My cries echoed along the chasm, and though I felt a ripple of concern that my beating may result in a rock fall, I simply didn't care.
    I glanced up thinking about what waited for me on the surface. My friends and new family yes, but more battling with Loki, the coming end of days, and to face all of that without Joshua?
    No.
    I just couldn't do it.
    For what seemed like hours, I remained suspended, in a fog of grief, frightened and drained. Until my heart stopped racing and my tears dried and my fists finally unclenched sending spikes of