“Aha,” I announced. “Found something. They did leave something here, stupid Church losers. I will break us out of here.” I went down on my knees, too distracted to pay attention to the Interlocutor. What were these things anyway? Some long and rounded, none of them evenly ground or lathed to smoothness, some big and heavy, some broken into bits. I felt a round one.
“Here’s something,” I said. “It feels like a five-pin bowling ball.” I moved my hand and jerked backwards. I got up and tripped over something long and straight.
I felt it. A long wooden handle, ending in a rusted steel blade ...
“... which others call ... dritch ...” the Interlocutor continued.
I recognized this object, even though I couldn’t see it. I’d held it in my hands many times before. At one end, a rusty blade; at t
