The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(109)

“And will that ‘more’ part also cover your Westhaven stake?”

“Definitely.”

“Then get down here so I can kiss you.” My heart drummed with excitement. Without even using a backup team, we could almost certainly get out what we needed in a relatively short term. If the vein was fully excavated properly, Cedric would have rights to everything pulled out, less Warren’s ownership fee. It would not only get us to Westhaven but ensure we didn’t have to move into another shanty. Maybe I could live on love, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to also live with a solid roof over my head.

Cedric’s climb down required some different maneuvers. In theory, it was simpler. He secured a rope in the stone and then swung himself down, gripping the rope with gloved hands as he rappelled over the stony face. It was less work than getting up, but I was constantly aware that a lot depended on his grip. The harness was secured to the rope as well, providing extra security. And despite his outward cockiness, I could see that he was moving very cautiously.

Which was why it was so astonishing when he slipped, suddenly sliding down, with neither hands nor harness holding the rope. I screamed as a brief, terrifying vision flashed through my mind of him crashing to the ground. His hands flailed out, trying to get purchase, and then somehow, amazingly, he managed to stop himself on a piece of rock jutting out about two-thirds of the way down. It was a narrow horizontal ledge that was just barely big enough for his feet to fit if he turned them outward in opposite directions. The rest of his body clung to the cliff’s face, spread eagle.

“Are you okay?” I cried.

“Take Lizzie, and get Sully,” he called back. “You can probably be back in an hour.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you up there for an hour!” His hold looked tenuous as it was. I didn’t even know if he’d last five minutes.

“Adelaide—”

“Be quiet. I’m smarter than you, remember?”

My tone was harsh, but it was only to cover my own fear. Cedric had fallen far from the rope he’d been on; it was too high up now. He’d placed another, lower rope just before his fall, but he could no longer reach it. I had a few extra pieces of equipment at my feet, most of which didn’t seem to be of use—with a few exceptions.

That last rope he’d placed was just barely too high for me to reach. Picking up two sharp metal stakes, I practiced plunging them into the rock. To my surprise, I had the strength to embed them and get a secure hold. What was more problematic was pulling myself up. The muscles in my upper body just didn’t have the capability to do it with ease. So, I did it with difficulty. I told myself over and over that I only had to go up a few feet. I told myself it was no problem. Most important, I told myself that Cedric’s life depended on it.

“Don’t do anything dangerous,” Cedric said.

“You can’t even see me,” I yelled back.

“Yeah, but I know you.”

With every muscle in my body screaming, I managed to use the stakes to claw my way up enough to reach the rope. I gripped it and was surprised to find it harder to hold on to than the stakes. My hands immediately began to slide, and I yelped in pain as the rope tore at my skin. Using every bit of determination I could muster, I managed to stop my descent and hold on to the rope, bending my body at an angle so that my feet stabilized me on the rock.

I contemplated my next move as a light wind blew strands of hair into my face. I needed to get the rope over to Cedric. If he could reach it, he could climb down safely. Lifting my feet, I hopped to the side, attempting to swing over on the rope. I moved only a little and soon realized the problem. This low on the rope, my weight wasn’t enough to move the line a significant distance. I needed to climb up.

Again, all my muscles were pushed to their limits as I raised one hand over the other. I’d seen laborers in Osfro climb ropes my entire life. I’d had no idea how much work it was. Having skinned-up hands didn’t help either. When I thought I was high enough to swing myself and the rope over more effectively, I told Cedric, “The rope’s coming in on your right. Grab it when you can.”

I then launched off again to the side and, as hoped, I moved the rope significantly closer to Cedric. But still not enough. Another ungainly swing got me within grasping distance.

“I can see it,” he said. “I think I can do it.”

Peering up, I held my breath as I watched him scoot over on that tiny ledge. A few rocks skittered down as he did, and I hoped it would hold him. His hand stretched out and grasped hold of the rope—but now he needed to get the rest of him over. With what sounded like a muttered prayer, he jumped off the ledge, reaching wildly for the rope with his other hand. Once more I had that terrible image of him falling, but he managed to make contact and grip both hands on the line.

The sudden change in weight on the rope made me lose my foothold, and we both swung wildly for several moments. I slid again, doing more damage to my hands, but managed to keep my grip and finally plant my feet on the rock again. Above me, I felt Cedric do the same. Before we could take any comfort in that momentary security, I felt the entire rope shift, jerking me down. I realized what was happening before Cedric spoke.

“The hook on this line wasn’t planted deeply enough to hold us both.”

In an instant, I knew what I needed to do. I had to get off the rope. I began shimmying down it, which was slightly easier than going up but still required great care. When I reached the bottom of the rope, I felt the whole thing shift again, but it continued to hold. I couldn’t reach the spikes I’d used to climb up to the rope. The distance from where I was to the ground wouldn’t kill me, but it would probably hurt. Cedric falling from his height would be much worse.