Eee..! Thankies to everyone who reviewed! :3 It really makes me happy.

Chapter Eight

"Oh... I'm afraid of heights..."

James shot an exasperated glare over his shoulder as he wobbled carefully along the rickety wooden walkways. Behind him, Herman was whining quietly about how he didn't like heights and in front of him Sparrow was sniggering to himself.

"Well, I don't like heights either, but at least you didn't get dragged off a bridge by a psychopath," James hissed under his breath. Beneath his feet the wooden planks creaked loudly and he froze for a moment. Sparrow stopped on one of the rocky sections of the walkway and turned to look back at him.

"Stop bein' such a coward," he said, grinning faintly, "If I could walk over it, then yeh should be able to an' all."

"Oh, shut up," James snapped irritably as he took another tentative step. "For all I know, you might have gone and weakened the wood further." He cast a glance over the edge of the walkway and cringed. "Oh god, I'm going to die..."

Sparrow snorted and rolled his eyes, closing the distance between them in three long strides. James only just had time to shoot a startled glance at him before the gypsy grabbed his arm and dragged him forcibly up to the rock overhang. "Come on, Herman," Sparrow called over his shoulder, ignoring the angry, flustered sounds James was making at him.

Herman, unlike James, wasn't so bothered about heights as to disobey a direct order from Sparrow and hurried to their side as well, his face contorting in a way that James had to admit was rather funny each time the wooden planks squealed beneath his feet.

Sparrow turned and continued up the rest of the walkway, dragging James in his wake to make sure they weren't stuck in that same cave for three days. Herman hurried along behind them, muttering to himself fearfully. Their footsteps were the only sound in the cave and James couldn't stop the unpleasant shiver that jarred his spine. Why weren't the hobbes still making all the racket they had been earlier?

And then they finally reached solid ground again and he stopped worrying about it. James pulled away from Sparrow and hurried into the next tunnel, hovering around nervously and waiting for more hobbes to show up. He just knew they would. He never had any luck. Or rather, he never had any good luck. Sparrow smirked at him as he idled passed, down into the next rock corridor, rubbing his side absently and trying not to look like he was in pain. James shot a glare after him and only moved when Pumpkin bumped into his leg.

The small group carried on down the corridor, James hanging back slightly with Pumpkin. Now that he knew Sparrow had cleared out the parts of the cave they'd just been in he felt safer hanging back than he did hovering around Sparrow himself. He placed his hand on Pumpkin's head again, earning a soft whine in reply. Yes, James thought, the dog was far more agreeable than his master.

And then the silence was broken by a hobbe's voice and Herman froze.

"That's Joey..." he said urgently and before either James or Sparrow could grab him, he darted off down the tunnel and out of sight.

"Herman!" Sparrow snapped, taking a few steps after him and then turning to James. "Come on, hurry up." James scowled at the tone but nodded and hurried after Sparrow, Pumpkin bounding along at his side.

The tunnel ended in another smaller cavern, the walls lined with barrels and crates. Some kind of storeroom James decided. Herman was nowhere to be seen but they could both hear him up ahead, calling for Joey. They exchanged a glance and started off in the direction of his voice.

Around them the barrels exploded, showering them with splintered pieces of wood and the triumphant cry of half a dozen hobbes.

Sparrow skidded to a halt, James slamming straight into his back. Pumpkin squirmed between their legs, his tail tucked between his own and whimpered. James very nearly copied his exact actions, shrinking against Sparrow's back, his gaze whipping back and forth fearfully.

The hobbes were far more frightening when they were alive than when they were dead and now three of them were intently focused upon him. They hopped forward a few steps, brandishing their crude clubs and maces threateningly and baring their crooked, yellow, blunted little fangs. One, James noticed, was wearing a pan on its head. If he wasn't so terrified he might have laughed. As it was, however, he wasn't capable of much more than a whimper.

"Get down," Sparrow snarled, a repetition of what he'd said before the battle with the bandits. James sincerely hoped this one would go as much in their favour as that one had as he obediently dropped to his knees, cowering by Sparrow's feet.

Sparrow took a wide stance, placing one foot in front of James and the other behind him, so that James was positioned directly beneath the arch of his legs. The tiny sliver of James's mind that was still functioning on a normal level made a mental note to be positively mortified by that later. The rest of him though, simply clapped his hands over his ears and hoped for the best.

And then the gun came out and Sparrow started shooting. Just like before, the hobbes took a worrying number of direct, point blank shots and barely even blinked. The three in front of them kept hopping closer, spreading out around them as they closed in. James was also highly aware of the ones behind them, in particular the one with the gun.

The gun that was being pointed directly at his head.

"Sparrow!" he yelped in terror, ducking his head and covering it with his arms. The gunfire above him faltered for just a moment and then it happened again; the crackling energy from before began. Sparrow was using magic.

James wasn't stupid enough to look up, especially not when whatever spell Sparrow was using was doing such an effective job of making his hair stand on end in an exceedingly unpleasant way. Instead he clutched at Pumpkin and buried his face in the scruff of his neck, trying to make himself as small as possible.

He felt Sparrow tense above him, he heard the hobbe cry in outrage and then he heard the snapping hiss of the spell as Sparrow hurled it at the sniper hobbe. He felt another wave of static wash over him, making every nerve in his body tingle before the hobbe shrieked in pain - the last sound it ever made, evidently.

Sparrow immediately turned his attentions back to the grunts. In the time he'd taken to kill the sniper they'd gotten dangerously close and James could even smell Pan-Head's foul breath. Pumpkin was snarling, finally seeming to come into himself once again and Sparrow exchanged his gun for his sword in all of one movement.

He hadn't really been able to appreciate Sparrow's prowess with a sword during the fight with the bandits, mainly due to the fact that he hadn't been able to see anything then, but now he was able to fully value Sparrow's abilities. For a brief moment, James wondered exactly how your typical farm boy gypsy scumbag learnt how to wield a blade with such proficiency. And then a hobbe sank its teeth into his calf and every thought in his mind was rather thoroughly obliterated.

Pain. Searing hot debilitating pain the kind of which James had never experienced before. The hobbe loosened its grip ever so slightly, only to bite down even harder. He choked out a single agonized sob and screamed, too terrified and shocked to try and fight back. Where was Sparrow? Why wasn't he helping him? His leg was soaked in blood and hobbe spit and it hurt and where was Sparrow?

And then the hobbe shrieked and the pain lessened a considerable degree and a fraction of James's mind managed to scrabble its way back to awareness. He gasped, gulping in air to try and calm himself as he was certain he was on the verge of hyperventilating and where was that bloody gypsy? He clasped his hands over the wound in his leg and looked around for his 'protector'.

He found him on the other side of the storeroom finishing off the last of the hobbes. None of them, James noted had a blood covered mouth. Belatedly, it occurred to him to wonder what had happened to the one that had attacked him. His eyes widened and his gaze whipped around, searching for the smelly little bastard.

He found it less than a foot away from his leg, twitching feebly. Pumpkin's mouth was wrapped quite firmly around its neck, pinning it to the ground. Occasionally he gave it a little shake, just to make sure it stayed dead.

A final gunshot from Sparrow's direction signalled the end of the last hobbe and a moment later he was crouched beside James, one eyebrow raised.

"What were yeh yellin' for?" he demanded, looking James up and down.

James scowled at him as hatefully as he could manage. It wasn't very effective considering that at some point he'd started sobbing his heart out and he was sure his eyes were puffy and that his nose was running. Lovely. He gave a jerky little nod at his leg.

"I got bitten..." he muttered, refusing to look at Sparrow. Beside him Sparrow hissed in sympathy.

"Aye, same as me then. Hey, we match!" He sounded far too delighted by that for James's liking. "Still, yer a bit of a ponce, so it'll prolly be worse for yeh," he added in such a matter of fact way that James couldn't not turn and glower at him.

"Oh, that's nice. Really. I can't imagine why I never liked you before. You're such a charmer."

Sparrow snorted and started rooting around in his pack for a something. A moment later he produced a potion bottle, different to the little pot he'd used before. "Drink this," he said, shoving it into James's hands, "While I dress yer leg."

James wasn't about to argue. He knew a healing potion when he saw. He popped the cork out and drank it all, almost in one go. Meanwhile, Sparrow yanked more bandages out of his pack and set about dressing James's leg. It didn't take long at all for the potions effects to be felt and the throbbing pain lancing up and down his leg faded to almost nothing.

When he was done he sat back on his haunches and then rose to his feet, holding out his hand to help James up. James eyed the offered hand warily for a moment before taking it and letting Sparrow haul him to his feet. Almost immediately he crumpled again, but Sparrow caught him under the arms. "Watch it," he chided casually.

After a moment of wobbling around in Sparrow's grip, James finally managed to regain his footing. "Okay," he said, "I'm... I'm okay. What happened to Herman?"

The both fell silent, listening intently for any sound from their companion. A moment later the not so familiar voice called out weakly for Joey again and they exchanged yet another exasperated look. Without saying anything further they turned and continued on into the cave. James placed his hand once more on Pumpkin's head, suddenly feeling so much safer with the dog at his side.

Herman wasn't that far away. The next little corridor wasn't long and seemed to end in a crude wooden door of some kind that seemed to have been stuck together out of various bits and pieces that the hobbes had found around Rookridge not doubt. James was sure that the circular thing in the centre that he assumed was the handle was actually the wheel from a stagecoach.

"Herman," Sparrow snapped, coming up behind the older man, "What were yeh doin' just runnin' off like that? Are yeh tryin' to get us all killed?"

The little man glanced back over his shoulder but he wasn't going to apologise, apparently. Instead he nodded at the door, a hint of desperation in his movements now. "I can't get this door open, but I'm sure Joey's on the other side. I think he might be hurt. See if you can find another way around, will ya?"

James was ever so very tempted to tell Herman where he could stick his son but Sparrow just huffed and nodded, turning and heading back the way they'd just come. James hesitated, torn between staying with Herman and not straining his injured leg, or going with Sparrow and possibly being attacked again.

He settled on the former, of course.

"Yeh stayin' here then?" Sparrow called over his shoulder as he eyed a narrow corridor Pumpkin had found a little way behind them. James nodded and Sparrow shrugged. "Fair enough. Won't be a minute."

And then he disappeared off into the dark.

James turned his attention back to the door and Herman. He was trying and failing to turn the wheel-cum-door handle and seemed to be getting more and more distressed with each failed attempt. James considered offering his help... and then decided against it. He was injured after all. He wasn't going to do himself further damage fighting with some door.

Of course, when Herman turned those stupid watery begging eyes on him and asked for help, his spluttered refusals didn't last long.

He positioned himself on one side of the wheel while Herman took his place on the other side. "All right," Herman said, nodding at James, "On three. One, two, three."

Herman pushed and James pulled and very slowly the wheel began to turn, creaking around stiffly. James bit his lower lip and pulled just a little harder, hoping desperately that he wouldn't get splinters.

And then the door was open. James staggered away from it, touching his injured leg tentatively and hoping that somehow opening the door hadn't hurt it. He wasn't sure how such a thing would happen, but he wouldn't have been surprised if it did.

Something started crying unnaturally behind him and he froze, leaning against the wall.

"Joey?" Herman asked as James whipped around. He couldn't see past the skinny little man but he was sure that whatever was behind him was not a child.

"Um... Herman..." he started weakly, but Herman wasn't listening. Instead he was approaching something, holding his hands out.

"There now. It's alright. It's me, Joey, your dad-" Herman cut off abruptly and his steps paused. "Joey? What are you- Oh god!"

Before James realised what was happening, Herman fell backwards, stumbling over his own feet and collapsing to the floor. Something leapt onto him – something very hobbe-like – and then James turned away. He couldn't watch but he heard everything; Herman's screams, the hobbe's vicious laughter, wood splintering somewhere in the distance and the horribly wet sounds as the evil little creature that might have once been Joey tore at Herman's flesh.

He barely registered the sound of footsteps before a gunshot rang out and startled him into turning around. Sparrow was standing there, over Herman's now dead body, gun in hand. His face was mostly blank, except for a little flicker of absolute unease.

"Joey?" he asked James, not even raising his head. James gave a jerky little nod.

"Yes, I... I think so."

Sparrow didn't respond for a long moment. Eventually he stepped over both Herman and the hobbe's bodies and moved over to James's side. "Yeh a'right?" he asked, distractedly. James nodded again. "Good. We need to get outta here, but there are more hobbes in the cave up ahead. A lot more. Stay here until I get back. Understand?"

"I understand," James repeated hollowly, keeping his gaze lowered and very firmly away from Herman. After a moment, Sparrow left again, Pumpkin right at his heels.

Immediately James slumped against the stone wall, ignoring the way the rocks dug into his back and sank to his knees. These last few hours – had it really only been five hours since he'd left Bowerstone? – had been arguably the worst of his life and depressingly the only good thing about them had been Sparrow. He still despised the man but as he sat there, huddled up in the cold stone tunnel, listening the sounds of battle to his left, he found himself counting the seconds until Sparrow came back. There was no denying that he had a way of making him feel safe.

Eventually the sounds of battle died away and Sparrow reappeared again. James didn't lift his head. Instead he continued to stare blankly at the wall opposite, not even aware of the silent tears that were creeping down his cheeks. He wanted to go home. He wanted his mother and he wanted his bed and he wanted his life to be normal again.

"Hey," Sparrow said, snapping his fingers under James's nose, "Pull yerself together. We've still got a ways to go until we're in Oakfield yet."

James slowly lifted his head to look up at Sparrow. The older boy was standing there, just watching him. After a moment he held out a hand again to help James back onto his feet. James didn't even hesitate this time, taking it the instant it was offered and allowing Sparrow to haul him up. This time, Sparrow didn't release his hand and continued to hold it as he dragged James brusquely through the last stretch of the cave. James would never have admitted it, but he was thankful for that little contact, even with someone like Sparrow and he clung to it as they finally found their way out of the Hobbe's Hellhole.

Once again, I hadn't expected the Hobbe Cave bit to last a whole other chapter. v.v Still, since they are in Oakfield now updates should come faster.