The Immortals of Myrdwyer by Brian Kittrell

Marac. Never before had Laedron seen the kind of fear that Valyrie had in her eyes. Clinging to some exposed roots, she didn’t make a sound, as if even a muffled scream might cause the roots to give up their hold.
    “We’re going to get you up. Just hold on.” He pulled out his scepter and chanted a levitation spell.
    Before he could finish the incantation, he heard a snap. With a shriek, she fell.
    Laedron’s instincts took over. Stepping off the ledge, he heard Marac shout, “Lae, no!”
    His clothes flapping in the breeze, Laedron forced the incantation past his lips. The fear will have to wait. I must save her. I must. He stretched out his hand, the tops of the pines below fast approaching. Closer. Only a little closer. Reach, dammit!
    Once their hands touched, Valyrie pulled at him, then wrapped her arms around his chest and climbed him in a frenzy.
    “I can’t—” He struggled to get his mouth free, to finish the spell and save her, but her arm coiled around his head and neck like a snake constricting on its prey.
    He pried at her arms with his free hand. “Va—” He knew that they must be close to the ground, but he couldn’t see. He tried to speak again. The words came out like a muffled scream. Peeling her arms over his head like a wet shirt, he broke loose long enough to shout the last word a few feet from the ground, slowing their descent.
    Landing, he took a deep breath, but his knees buckled. He sat, then he lay on his back and tried to calm his nerves. Although he couldn’t see their faces, he imagined the looks Marac and Brice were giving one another at the top of the cliff. He turned his head to see Valyrie, her breathing panicked and her hair frizzled. “All right now?”
    “All right?” She clenched one hand into a fist while snatching briars from her hair with the other. “We could’ve been killed.”
    “But we weren’t.”
    “I can’t catch my breath!” Grabbing her chest, she collapsed to the ground, using one arm to keep herself from falling flat.
    He crawled over to her. “Just breathe. Take it slow.”
    “Do you do this sort of thing often?”
    “What, jumping off a cliff to save someone? No, not really, but in your case, I decided to make an exception.”
    She gazed into his eyes. The look could have been anything—relief, happiness, or something else—but he was relieved that it was something other than anger and resentment. At the very least, it got her to relax.
    “Ready to go back up?” he asked.
    She nodded.
    Waving the scepter in a circle around them, he wrapped his arm around Valyrie and cast his spell. His feet lifted off the ground. Ascending, he stared at the majestic beauty of the valley, the river and its rapids flowing south, and the deer running between the trees. He reached the top and saw Marac with a scornful glare on his face. Oh, dear. I’m going to hear it now. Perhaps I should’ve stayed down there a while longer.
    “The next time you decide to jump off a cliff,” Marac said, his arms folded, “I’d appreciate a little warning.”
    “Sorry.” Laedron released Valyrie once they had landed. “It’s what sorcerers—”
    “Don’t give me that ‘it’s what sorcerers do’ bit. You scared the hells out of me with that stunt.”
    Brice stepped between them. “All things considered, he did save her from the fall.”
    “Oh, don’t you start now.”
    Laedron put his arms around both of them, herding them away from the edge. “Friends, don’t let this drive a wedge between us. Marac, I’m sorry, but I had little time to explain.”
    Marac nodded forcefully. “I just don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”
    “You won’t.” Laedron smiled, then gestured at the horses. “Shall we?”
    “Yes, but we’re not going back to that damned road.” Taking hold of the reins, Marac climbed onto his horse. “If the trees grow away from this cliff the whole way, we’d do better to follow it to the village.”
    “Agreed.” Laedron helped