Page 6 of Wicked Sea and Sky

My panic sharpened into a razor of fear slicing through my body. I choked on the dust, eyes burning as the cloud of debris thickened.

Up ahead, the light bounced against the walls and revealed another ledge. I skidded to a stop, loose pebbles sliding under my boots as I surveyed the distance to the other side.

It was far.

We might not make it.

The possibility of failure was real, and it twisted another razor, this one in my heart, as an image flashed in my mind: my home falling into the sea, buried by rubble and water. A grave similar to the one I’d find at the bottom of this pit.

“We have to jump!” Gavin shouted.

The rock slide was gaining speed, its deafening roar closing in.

Gavin’s wild eyes met mine. He seized my hand, draggingme back as far as we could go. The floor crumbled near our feet, and the tremor rattled through my bones. He squeezed my fingers. It was enough to spur me forward. Enough to take the leap.

I sprinted toward the gap, increasing my speed and shoving down the primal instinct that screamed at me to stop as the cliff appeared. Pumping my arms, I launched off the edge, going weightless in the air.

Time slowed. The thunder of the rock slide grew muffled. I kept my gaze locked on the cliff ahead and hit the ground with a teeth-jarring thud.

My boot slipped, stomach lurching into my throat as I teetered on the crumbling ledge.

So close!

I let out a strangled cry and pitched forward, my knees and palms slamming into the hard-packed dirt. A metallic tang flooded my mouth as blood welled on my lip, mixing with the grit of sand between my teeth.

Gavin had landed next to me, and I twisted onto my back, eyes wide as the last of the ground fell away, leaving nothing but a pitch black gorge.

The stillness that followed felt wrong. My rapid pulse still thrashed in my ears, and I had a hard time slowing my heartbeat. I wiped the blood on my lip and climbed to my feet, looking around the spacious cavern. Another series of dark tunnels opened up in front of us. Each one led in a different direction.

Gavin bent at his waist, his chest heaving in gulps of air. “And you want to leave all this?”

“You’re right. What’s not to love?”

A smell tickled my nose. It was faint and acrid. Like burningfiber. Where was it coming from?

Gavin dusted off his trousers, smacking his hands against his thighs and sending up a sandy cloud. “Honestly, we’ve faced worse. Remember the time—”

Something snapped over his shoulder and whistled through the air.

“Watch out!” I crashed into him, dragging him to the ground just as a giant scythe howled over our heads.

The blade swung back and forth, then slowly stilled, hanging from a threadbare rope.

An unnerving silence settled around us. Dust motes floated in the air, sparkling from the moonstone lying in the dirt. My fingers tangled in Gavin’s shirt as I lay draped over his chest, our faces inches apart.

“I think we found the rest of the peril,” he said, looking up at me. “That pillar was appropriately named. I'm changing my rating to a seven.”

I couldn’t help it. A laugh burst from my throat, and I buried my head into his neck. Gavin’s familiar scent filled my senses. A pleasing hint of sandalwood, now mixed with dust and the faint sheen of perspiration. I squeezed my eyes shut. Relief spilled through my veins as his palm, warm and heavy, cupped the back of my head.

Gavin’s fingers sifted through my hair, and he murmured against my temple, “You’re a mess, Mare.”

I pulled back, wrinkling my nose when he brushed a smudge of dirt from the tip. His touch lingered, rough fingertips grazing my skin as his gaze searched my face. The sharp angles of his clean-shaven jaw tensed, drawing tight the faint scar beneath his chin. My laughter faded, dissolving under the weight of his unwavering expression.

The leather cord I’d used to tie my hair had come loose, and the thick strands tumbled down my shoulders in soft waves. Gavin reached for a mahogany lock, his hand hovering for a moment like he wasn’t sure he should touch it, before rubbing the strand between his fingers. The silence stretched, and I held my breath, unsure if I should pull away or lean in.

He answered for me. Shifting closer, his fingertips brushed my cheek as he gently gathered the fallen strands of hair. Heat pooled in my stomach as he found the leather cord, and with a slowness that made my chest ache, he bound my hair back into place.

“Thanks, Gav,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.