It was the work of moments to remove the rope tied around me. I knew from experience that wet knots, particularly if they’ve been pulled tight by a fall were difficult, if not nearly impossible, to undo. The cold in my fingers wouldn’t help. I had no further need of the rope anyway, so I sliced it free with my dagger.
I briefly considered pulling the rope up to see if I could haul up the slime, but I couldn’t see any benefit. Instead I dropped the damaged rope back over the side, tossing it as gently as I could, hoping it would become entangled on the spikes below. This way the slime could eat it all.
As I stood up from leaning over the wall, I was suddenly aware that I could no longer make out any of the lights from the town. The pale light that has occasionally shone from the moon and stars was not in evidence.
I was completely in the dark.
Suddenly I felt very cold. And alone. Gertrude was here.