Page 77 of Scorched Earth

“Lydia!”

He screamed her name as she collapsed at their feet, her hair white and skin weathered as a woman thrice her age.

“She’s breathing,” Malahi said, even as Agrippa shouted, “Stay away from her! If she rouses, she’ll be desperate!”

The last of the deimos slammed into the bucket, teeth reaching for Baird. Killian stabbed it in the eye, sending it spinning out of sight into the carnage below.

“We’re almost down!” Baird roared.

And then the storm struck.

The pain was incredible, as though Killian’s skin was being scoured from his face and eyes scratched from his skull.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Get down!” Agrippa bellowed in his ear between coughs. “Cover your face! I’ll help Baird!”

Killian dropped, fumbling for Lydia’s still form. She was faintly coughing, so he tore off a strip of his shirt and wrapped it around her face before doing the same for himself. It was still like breathing dust, but the burn of sand striking him was diminished. Catching hold of Malahi, he shouted, “Is your face covered?”

“Yes!”

The howl of wind intensified, drowning out all sound, but he could feel the others shaking as they coughed violently.

He had no idea how much farther down they had to descend. Nor any idea of what they’d do when they reached the bottom.

The bucket twisted violently in the wind. Killian clenched his teeth, praying to the Six that the rope would hold.

Then Lydia stirred.

His mark had been quiet but now screameddanger.

He didn’t know how to help her.

Protect the others. That’s what she’d want.

Hauling Lydia against his chest, Killian held her tightly against him, her arms pinned by his. “We’re almost down!” he shouted. “I’ll get you more space soon!”

He could sense her inner battle. Weakened as she was, if she decided to fight him, he’d be hard-pressed to contain her without help.

But he didn’t want to ask for it. Agrippa would protect Malahi at all costs, and trapped in a confined space as they were, the other man might choose to cut his losses.

“We’re almost there!” He wasn’t sure if that was truth or lie. “Hang on!”

Lydia strained against him, and Killian’s arms shuddered to keep hers in place.Please,he prayed to the Six.Help her.

Except he knew they wouldn’t. It had been one thing to throw off the Seventh’s active hold, but this was a war Lydia was fighting against herself.

The bucket jolted to a stop, the impact of it striking the rocky ground jarring his spine. Trusting that Agrippa would take care of the others, Killian spilled them both over the edge of the bucket. His back struck something squishy and wet, but then they were rolling down an incline.

Lydia pressed her advantage.

Wrenching her arms upward, she broke his hold, rolling away from him. And he couldn’t gods-damned see. Couldn’t hear any sounds she might make over the roar of the storm.

But she can see you.

Climbing to his feet, Killian ignored the coughs wracking his body and gave in to the sense gifted to him by Tremon.

What if she goes after the others?