5. Topple Off the Cliff #2
Looking up, I found those green eyes glaring at mine.
“Don’t even think about it.” They were the first words he had spoken in the thirty minutes since we’d entered the tunnel.
“What in the blessed stars would I do with any of that?” I gestured at the pile. “I can barely manage not to stab myself with a butter knife.”
He ignored me and crawled between the boulders. I stepped back so he could start placing all those blades back into their respective scabbards and hiding places. The man was like a walking weapons cache.
Taking a deep breath, I could already smell the briny air. We didn’t have much further to go.
Long before the pitch-blackness around the lumin shard’s glow lightened, we could hear the steady, restless hush of the sea.
The opening in the passage was around the next bend, and our first glimpse of the swirling indigo and muted clouds.
I stopped and let him slip past me. From where I stood, all I could see was his silhouette framed by the narrow mouth of the cave.
I didn’t need to look to know what waited beyond it.
A steep drop. A pocket of deep, dark water scoured smooth by years of tides.
And beyond that, the Lata Sea stretched out into the distance.
I remained far away from the edge. I savored the smell of the sea, but the fear that gnawed at my insides at just the thought of falling into the water was enough to ensure I kept my distance.
His eyes swung in my direction. The intense stare unnerved me the longer it went on.
I got him this far—what else could he want from me?
A testimonial? A letter of recommendation?
His gaze traveled to my left shoulder, his brow furrowing.
The hand curled around the grip of the dagger strapped to his thigh, knuckles whitening for just a heartbeat before releasing.
And then, from the tortured look on his face, he made a painfully difficult decision. Those eyes returned to mine.
“You can’t go back.”
It was a simple statement. Though based on his pursed lips, it was a very disappointing conclusion to whatever he debated in his head.
If they didn’t find the tunnel behind the sarcophagus, I could hide in the catacombs until it was clear to head back to my room. If I returned by first meal, they would never have known I’d been gone.
“I’ll be fine.”
He tilted his head. “And in a moon cycle, will you be fine?”
Yes, there was that. The potential fate I hadn’t had the time to think through and process yet. He seemed to think it was inevitable. What if it was?
“Suit yourself,” he shrugged as he turned back to look down the cliff face.
“Wait.”
He glanced at me over his shoulder.
Maybe going back wouldn’t be the best choice. And what of my only other option—going with him? If he could at least get me into the city and out of the Citadel, I could go on my own from there. Did it matter if it were now or a moon cycle from now?
If they had no intention of letting me go—if they planned to kill me—this may be my only chance at escape. I pictured the continental map on the table in the catacombs, and a spark of hope ignited in my heart. If he was right, and this was my only chance to get out and see the world…
“Take me with you,” I blurted, without considering what I was agreeing to. Why start making well-thought-out decisions now?
A slight nod was all he gave me before turning back to the sea.
“You’ll need to take that robe off, or it’ll pull you under once you hit the water. And you’ll have to jump out as far as you can, but it’s deep enough. No white churn or rocks. And only a few stories. I’ll go first, so you can see how it’s done.”
Twin gods above, I was so stupid—the water.
I closed my eyes at the thought of being pulled under. Pushing down the panic, I spoke around the lump in my throat. “I can’t swim.”
Turning back around, he stared at me. Again.
If he was what I suspected he was, he would understand what it was like being raised in the Citadel. Did he assume I had learned to swim during our extensive outdoor recreation time?
He must have come to the same conclusion because he turned back to the sea.
But this time, he leaned out of the opening, angling his head to see the cliff face leading up to the city somewhere above.
A glimmer of the half-moon peeked through the shifting clouds of the overcast sky.
Its glow mingled in the misty gusts that whipped the man’s light hair around.
“Then we go up.”
With little effort, he gracefully swung himself around and onto the cliff face, his boots finding purchase on the uneven surface.
“Just follow me, using the same foot and handholds.”
I hesitantly approached the precipice. The water below lay dark and unbroken. My trembling hand grasped the rock he had just vacated. Then, I lifted my slippered foot to find the same tiny ledge the man seemed to identify so easily.
I was going up, not down. Away from the water. I could do this.
“Take off the robe.”
I gave him a startled look.
“You can’t climb with that thing on. And I already told you what would happen if you slipped and hit the water.”
Stepping back, I pulled the robe over my head, ensuring that the lumin shard remained around my neck.
Shivering in the crisp air, I straightened the thin white linen shift that stopped just short of my knees and regretted not wearing full-length today.
Heat flooded my face at the man seeing me in so little.
I peeked up at him to find that he wasn’t paying attention to me at all, but was studying the path he planned to climb. Well, that was mildly insulting. Not that I wanted him staring, but at least acknowledging my existence would be—no. Stop it. Focus on not dying.
I swallowed whatever cocktail of embarrassment and panic was currently trying to kill me and put my foot on the ledge.
The chilly dampness soaked through my slipper.
Free of the robe, I could actually see my feet.
Not nearly as graceful as the man, I grappled for the next handhold, shifting my other foot until finding something solid enough to trust.
Now fully perched on the cliff, I shut my eyes against the drop beneath me as my pulse roared in my ears.
With my hair whipping around my head, I forced myself to take slow, steady breaths and moved my left foot to the next rock that jutted out only slightly from the damp, mossy escarpment.
Pain shot up my toes as I shifted my weight—reminding me to invest in better footwear the next time I planned a daring midnight escape.
Glancing up, I found the man watching me, already meters away, about to climb around an outcropping. I willed the shale to be more forgiving as I looked to where my right foot should come down.
Except my eyes didn’t land on the rock face or on my foot—they focused past them to the menacing water below. Just one slip, and I’d meet the murky abyss below. I knew I couldn’t do this. I would fall…and then I would drown.
Sweat beaded on my forehead as I closed my eyes. Desperately, I wanted to cling to the rocks and away from the danger, yet at the same time, push it away. The entire cliff face was crushing my chest, making it impossible to breathe.
The world fell away as the metal of the basin dug into the top of my spine.
Thrashing in his hold, the water heaved and churned, splashing over the edge of the tub.
He pinned my shoulders down with bruising, bony fingers.
Lost to the panic, the rapid beat of my pulsing heart drowned out his muffled laughter.
My lungs burned like an inferno with the need to inhale.
I need air. I need air. I need air.
The sudden gritty tinkling of pebbles and dirt sliding down the cliff startled me with a jolt. My eyes flew open, and I jerked back, losing my grip on the ledge with one hand.