Chapter 23 #3
But she’d also felt proud of the chance to save the lives of people she loved. And giddy as she thought of Hawke’s kiss, remembered his words, the feel of his lips. Her own lips still tingled at the memory.
As long as there is breath in my lungs, there is reason to hope. She clung to Hawke’s words, chanting them again and again until the negative thoughts were banished. She touched the key that hung from a strap around her neck. Reason to hope.
Her hands brushed against something, and as she investigated, she felt a large rock obstructing the passageway. Her heart dropped. Would she have to retreat?
The breeze was still there, and Annabelle followed its beckoning, feeling with cautious fingers around the impedi-ment.
There was an opening. But it would be tight.
She squeezed herself inside, turning her head and shifting her shoulders to fit through.
Hawke’s dirk pressed against her hip, and the hilt scraped against the cave wall.
The darkness was so complete she had to consciously consider whether her eyes were open or shut.
When she blinked, there was no difference.
The tunnel twisted, and at times, she climbed upward, always following the breeze.
Once, the tunnel dropped without warning, and Annabelle fell downward in the darkness.
For an instant, she’d wondered if she’d found a bottomless pit, but as quickly as the thought came, she hit the ground, crying out as her shoulder collided with the floor.
Eventually, the passage widened enough that Annabelle could sit up.
She twisted, stretching out her stiff muscles, and leaned back against the rock, gingerly touching her bruised shoulder, her sore neck, her cheek.
She was exhausted, and everything hurt. She lay down, finding a relatively comfortable position in which to rest. She lay her cheek on a bent elbow, and her mind drifted.
Where was she? In the center of the mountain?
The image of all the heavy rock over her head brought a fresh wave of panic.
As long as there is breath in my lungs, there is reason to hope. As long as there is breath in my lungs, there is reason to hope.
She breathed in and out steadily, calming herself, and her thoughts turned to the friends she’d left behind.
By now, their torches had surely gone out.
Were they talking as they sat in the darkness, or did they remain silent?
Did they still search for an exit? Was Court able to rest?
Was Hawke thinking of her? Of their kiss?
Annabelle felt warm all over thinking of being held in Hawke’s embrace.
He was solid, his arms strong, and she knew without a doubt that she was in love with him.
She sighed. Her apprehension about leaving the sea behind, of having to bid farewell to her friends and marry a stranger—it was all gone.
She had Hawke now. And he was her future.
Annabelle had no concept of how long she had spent in the tunnel.
She slept, she woke, she continued following the breeze.
At times, the passage was tall enough that she could stand, and other times, she had to squeeze through on her belly.
She was so thirsty. And she’d not eaten since luncheon at the waterfall before the crew was captured.
Was that yesterday? The day before? Longer?
Her thirst grew, and her thoughts became solely fixated on water.
Her mouth and throat were scratchy, and her head ached.
She thought she heard dripping ahead, and she even imagined she smelled water.
Her mind must be deceiving her. But as she continued, the breeze felt stronger, and the dripping became louder.
Annabelle’s energy renewed, and she moved along faster. Gradually, instead of complete darkness, she could see the faintest difference in the shades of black.
The tunnel brightened, and the smell of water, of wet stone, grew stronger.
Annabelle at last came to a crack, much like the one she’d entered the passage through.
Peeking into it, she saw an open cave and beyond it, the sea.
The sight made her want to laugh out loud, to droop with relief.
But first, she needed water. She heard it, could see it dripping from the ceiling into pools below.
She pressed herself into the gap, but rather than coming out on the other side, she became wedged. The opening was too narrow. Panic and desperation clouded her mind. She had come so far. Only inches of stone were between her and freedom. She could not fail now. Not when she was so close.
Annabelle pulled back, relieved not to be stuck. She took Hawke’s dirk from the sash around her waist and used the hilt to chip away at the edges of the fissure, widening the opening. The water was so close . . .
After two more failed attempts, she drew in her breath, easing one shoulder through, then her hip. The jagged rock scratched at her cheeks and tore her clothes, but she forced herself onward, dropping, at last, onto the rocky floor of the cave.
She was free.