The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(33)

Knowing they would have the same need she had upon their descent, she picked up the bundle and candle and started for the tunnel to Wolf ’s chamber. That would give them privacy. Though Quillan had tied it tightly, the bundle was ungainly, and she had to squeeze through one part of the passage. Her candle was very low by the time she reached the chamber.

As she stepped down she realized the light was better, nowhere near the pitch darkness of the outer cavern. She looked up. The opening angled so she could not see the actual hole through which the bats had flown the first time she and Alex found the chamber. But what if—

“Carina!” Quillan’s voice echoed from the cavern.

She shrank immediately into one wall, and a second later the chamber swarmed with bats. She dropped the bundle and held the candle in front of her face. The bats shied away, whirling and frustrated, before flying back to the cavern. Slowly she lowered the candle. Was he pazzo? She stalked back to the cavern.

Quillan turned. “There you are.”

“I’ll thank you not to send the bats my way again.” She tossed her hair back, shivering at the thought of those musty bodies and reptilian wings.

“I didn’t know where you were.” He looked as though every ligament in his body were drawn up short.

She reached for his arm. “Are you all right?”

He stiffened. “No. I have to get out of here.”

“Quillan, what about Wolf ’s chamber?”

He stared into her face. “What do you mean?”

“There’s an opening at the top. Could we try that way?”

He looked off toward the passage.

Carina searched the chamber. “Where’s Father Antoine?”

“He’ll be with us shortly.” Quillan caught her arm and pulled her with him.

Some of the bats still circled the ceiling, and Carina shot a glance over her shoulder before entering the narrow passageway. With both their candles it was bright enough, but again she noticed more light in the chamber.

Quillan said, “There’s daylight coming through.”

“Can you see the hole?”

“Not with that angle. Get the priest.”

Carina left the chamber, but Father Antoine was already in the passageway. “Quillan needs you. I think we might get out through Wolf ’s chamber.” Turning back, she and Father Antoine found Quillan studying the ceiling from beneath. Carina leaned against the wall. She could tell it was too high. What was he planning?

“I can’t tell if it’s open up there, but there’s certainly more light. Maybe this exit is not buried as deeply as the other one.”

Father Antoine studied the ceiling. “What does it matter, if we can’t reach it?”

Quillan turned. “Can you sit on my shoulders?”

The priest raised his brows. “Can you hold me?”

For answer, Quillan crouched. Carina crossed her arms, saying nothing as Father Antoine hiked his cassock and climbed onto Quillan’s shoulders. Even with the weight he’d lost, he was not insubstantial, as tall as Quillan and heavy-boned. How could this work?

With the priest sitting on his shoulders, Quillan strained, his muscles roping and bunching as his fingertips left the floor and he straightened slowly. Father Antoine stretched up, but they were still a good distance from the ceiling.

Carina brought one hand to her mouth as Quillan almost lost his footing on the slippery floor, and he braced a leg as they steadied themselves. “Can you see out?” Quillan’s voice was tight with strain.

“There’s a slanted chimney. I can’t see the end.”

“Is it large enough to fit through?”

“At this end, yes. I can’t quite—” he pulled himself taller from the waist—“I’m not high enough to see.”

“Come down.” Quillan spoke with clenched teeth. His face was red and his arms shook.

“Be careful.” It was out before Carina thought. Of course they were careful. But her nerves tightened just watching. Father Antoine was not young. And bearing that much weight, Quillan could be injured. Quillan bent, catching the priest piggyback. Father Antoine slid to the floor, and Carina breathed her relief.

They were no closer to escape, but at least neither man had broken his neck. Quillan crouched, rubbing one shoulder and hanging his head. He breathed heavily, in pain most likely. To hold a man his own weight like that . . . She wanted to comfort him, but his tension kept her back.

Father Antoine stretched his own joints. “Five feet more, at least, to reach it.” He circled beneath the hole. “If I stood on your shoulders . . .”

Still crouching, Quillan looked up. “I couldn’t hold you standing.”

“There’s nothing for it, then. Unless . . .” Father Antoine stopped pacing. “Carina . . .”

Quillan stood slowly, pressed his elbows back and stretched his chest. “Carina can’t do it. She shouldn’t even be in here.”

“Do what?” She stepped away from the wall.

Father Antoine turned. “If you stood on his shoulders, and he—”

“No.” Quillan shook his head. “It’s out of the question.”

The priest didn’t argue, and Carina sighed her relief. Did Father think her an acrobat? She would not perch at the top of a human ladder even if God had healed her fear of heights.