into the woods.
In less than a heartbeat she was out of sight.
Taking a deep breath, Liam limped after her.
The wind howled around them like spirits, cutting wickedly through the trees and driving the cold straight to Liam's bones. Rain slanted through the leaves and stung his face with biting intensity.
It seemed like they walked through hell and back, though Liam knew the farther they got from the water the safer they'd be. The ground became steep and rocky. The trees thinned out, granting them even less shelter. Liam's leg throbbed like the beat of a drum, but he'd be damned before he asked her to stop.
He was nearly ready to reverse that decision, when he bumped into her back.
"There." She breathed the word like a prayer.
"What?" he asked, but she didn't answer. Instead, she bent beneath a dripping branch and moved toward a wall of stone that was directly in front of them.
Liam glanced behind him. He was not such a fool to believe that the darkness, their heart-stopping rush down the falls, or their retreat would hide them from the powers that hunted them.
Despite what Rachel believed or refused to believe, her life had been in dire peril. He knew that. Felt it in his soul. Of course, their present situation wasn't exactly a day at the fair, either.
"Find that castle?" he asked, facing forward. But he realized suddenly that she was gone, nowhere to be seen, with the black face of the rock stretching off in both directions. "Rachel?"
Despite every jaded instinct in him, he couldn't arrest the panic that flashed through him. Plunging forward, he reached out toward the cliff.
His hand met nothing but air. He stumbled forward over jagged rocks, jarring his wounded leg and nearly falling flat on his face in the absolute darkness.
"Rachel!" he said, staggering to a halt.
"A cave," she whispered.
That much was apparent. But he wanted to know how she'd found it. No he didn't, he told himself sternly. He'd made a vow long ago not to fall into her spider's trap. Still, the idea that they'd walked for more than an hour through the darkness only to come to this place in the heart of the stone was a bit too eerie to disregard without some effort.
"Someone told you of this place?" he asked hopefully.
"N-Nay," she stuttered slightly, and he wondered suddenly if it was from the cold or if she felt the same eerie sensations he did. Perhaps it was absolute luck that had brought them safely out of the elements and she was just as surprised as he.
"I think we can chance a fire here," he said, turning his mind aside.
"Have you a flint and steel?"
"Nay, my sporran is gone."
"That wee bonny thing?"
"It served its purpose," he said distractedly. His leg throbbed and his head was beginning to pound. But just at that moment his fingers brushed against something beneath his cape.
A glimmer of hope surged through him.
"What is it?" Her voice came from close beside him.
"The husband's purse," he said, feeling a splash of satisfaction as he drew it forward on his belt.
"You stole it."
It was really quite amazing, he thought, how, despite everything, she managed to sound offended. Aye, I did," he said, "and quite artfully."
His fingers were stiff and numb, but he finally managed to untie the knot. Even then, it took him a moment to wrench the thing open. Kneeling on the unyielding floor of the cave, he spilled the contents noisily onto the rock and tried to distinguish the contents by feel alone.
"Is there a steel?"
"Nay. Just money." Under other circumstances, his dismissive statement about something as wondrous as money may well have been amusing. It was somehow disconcerting to think he might be losing his sense of humor, or his sense of values.
"Mayhap we could find a s-stone," she stuttered, "and strike it against a coin."
She'd always been clever. He rose rustily to his feet and grabbed her arm to turn her in an arbitrary direction. "You look over there. I'll try the opposite side."
They moved apart, walking
In less than a heartbeat she was out of sight.
Taking a deep breath, Liam limped after her.
The wind howled around them like spirits, cutting wickedly through the trees and driving the cold straight to Liam's bones. Rain slanted through the leaves and stung his face with biting intensity.
It seemed like they walked through hell and back, though Liam knew the farther they got from the water the safer they'd be. The ground became steep and rocky. The trees thinned out, granting them even less shelter. Liam's leg throbbed like the beat of a drum, but he'd be damned before he asked her to stop.
He was nearly ready to reverse that decision, when he bumped into her back.
"There." She breathed the word like a prayer.
"What?" he asked, but she didn't answer. Instead, she bent beneath a dripping branch and moved toward a wall of stone that was directly in front of them.
Liam glanced behind him. He was not such a fool to believe that the darkness, their heart-stopping rush down the falls, or their retreat would hide them from the powers that hunted them.
Despite what Rachel believed or refused to believe, her life had been in dire peril. He knew that. Felt it in his soul. Of course, their present situation wasn't exactly a day at the fair, either.
"Find that castle?" he asked, facing forward. But he realized suddenly that she was gone, nowhere to be seen, with the black face of the rock stretching off in both directions. "Rachel?"
Despite every jaded instinct in him, he couldn't arrest the panic that flashed through him. Plunging forward, he reached out toward the cliff.
His hand met nothing but air. He stumbled forward over jagged rocks, jarring his wounded leg and nearly falling flat on his face in the absolute darkness.
"Rachel!" he said, staggering to a halt.
"A cave," she whispered.
That much was apparent. But he wanted to know how she'd found it. No he didn't, he told himself sternly. He'd made a vow long ago not to fall into her spider's trap. Still, the idea that they'd walked for more than an hour through the darkness only to come to this place in the heart of the stone was a bit too eerie to disregard without some effort.
"Someone told you of this place?" he asked hopefully.
"N-Nay," she stuttered slightly, and he wondered suddenly if it was from the cold or if she felt the same eerie sensations he did. Perhaps it was absolute luck that had brought them safely out of the elements and she was just as surprised as he.
"I think we can chance a fire here," he said, turning his mind aside.
"Have you a flint and steel?"
"Nay, my sporran is gone."
"That wee bonny thing?"
"It served its purpose," he said distractedly. His leg throbbed and his head was beginning to pound. But just at that moment his fingers brushed against something beneath his cape.
A glimmer of hope surged through him.
"What is it?" Her voice came from close beside him.
"The husband's purse," he said, feeling a splash of satisfaction as he drew it forward on his belt.
"You stole it."
It was really quite amazing, he thought, how, despite everything, she managed to sound offended. Aye, I did," he said, "and quite artfully."
His fingers were stiff and numb, but he finally managed to untie the knot. Even then, it took him a moment to wrench the thing open. Kneeling on the unyielding floor of the cave, he spilled the contents noisily onto the rock and tried to distinguish the contents by feel alone.
"Is there a steel?"
"Nay. Just money." Under other circumstances, his dismissive statement about something as wondrous as money may well have been amusing. It was somehow disconcerting to think he might be losing his sense of humor, or his sense of values.
"Mayhap we could find a s-stone," she stuttered, "and strike it against a coin."
She'd always been clever. He rose rustily to his feet and grabbed her arm to turn her in an arbitrary direction. "You look over there. I'll try the opposite side."
They moved apart, walking
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