What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(44)
“It’s highly probable, yes,” I snapped, shrugging off his touch when he reached over and grabbed me. Tugging me toward him, he pressed his chest into my spine, sliding his hands over the sleeve of my dress until he covered the bare skin of mine with his palms.
He guided them to a spot where there was a notch in the stone, curling my fingers around it as I stretched up onto my toes. “Alright then, Little One. Let’s see if you can manage to get yourself back up or if I’m going to have to carry you.” I turned to glare at him over my shoulder, finding his mouth twisted in a smirk.
A pounding in my ears nearly distracted me from the task at hand, leaving me twitchy with the need to smack the arrogant look off his face. “Fine,” I huffed, releasing the spot where he’d placed my hand. I bent down, gathering the fabric of my dress in my hands and twisting it up around my knees.
Cold air touched my legs, dancing over the bare skin, and I shivered in spite of myself. I twisted the worn, mangled fabric into a knot, letting it hang at my thighs so that I’d have full range of motion.
“Look up my dress, and you may find you wake up without any eyeballs one morning,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him as I raised my hand up to that notch he’d shown me before. I reached with my other hand, searching for a spot to place it as I put all the energy I had into pulling myself up.
My feet fought for purchase, looking for a place to take some of my weight. Coming down had been easier; I’d been so filled with adrenaline and desperation that nothing could have kept me away.
My fingers trembled as I gripped the rock, taking it one reach at a time, one step at a time. Caelum waited until I was halfway up the cliff and turned to look down at him, my vision swimming with nausea as I stared down at the sheer drop.
In the middle of the night, it had been so easy to underestimate just how far that fall was. So easy to convince myself Brann might have survived. But in the light of day, I knew the fall into the sand or water below would have broken every bone in his body.
Even if he hadn’t been stabbed first.
Caelum scaled the wall at my side, moving much quicker than I could, with an agility that seemed impossible. His arms and legs were so much longer than mine, letting him cover more ground with every precious movement.
He paused at my side, staring at the way that I fought for my grip. I tilted my face forward, letting the cold of the stone touch my forehead as I drew in a deep breath. “I can still carry you.”
“Fuck you,” I snapped, turning to pierce him with a glare. The thought of anyone carrying me up this steep embankment was ridiculous, but there was no doubt on his face as he moved up with ease at my side. He stayed with me, offering guidance when I needed it but otherwise leaving me untouched, when I needed to prove I wasn’t a complete waste of breath—even if only to myself.
My lungs heaved with the effort of shoving my body up the cliff I’d jumped over in a moment of impulse, which had turned out to be pointless. By the time we reached the top, I was half-tempted to throw myself to the ground and kiss it.
I grabbed the ground at the top, trying to pull myself up as my arms shook with exertion. Caelum scaled it at my side, pulling himself over the ledge and holding out a hand for me to take. I grunted as I placed mine in his, hating the moment of weakness but accepting the help anyway. At that moment, I was too tired to care beyond a fleeting thought, even knowing it would nag at me the next time I tried to fall asleep.
I sprawled out on the ground, trying to catch my breath as Caelum spun in the clearing at the top of the cliff, with his hand on his sword. There was no sign of the Wild Hunt that had sent Brann and I over the ledge the night before; they were gone without a trace as they sought out more of the Fae Marked.
“How did you escape the Wild Hunt, anyway?” I asked. The signs of the scuffle of the night before could be seen in the boot marks in the dirt, in the torn grass and disturbed foliage at the edge of the woods and the hoof prints all over the clearing.
In the spots of blood staining the ground.
Caelum paused, turning to look at me with his brow raised in question. “They were far more interested in getting to you than they were winning the fight against me. After you went over the edge, they mounted their horses and tried to find another way down the cliff,” he said, his stare intensifying as he gave me a cursory look-over. “So tell me, Little One. What’s so special about you?”
My thoughts froze as I blinked up at him, turning his words over in his head. The Wild Hunt had seemed interested in my Mark, as had the Mist Guard back in Mistfell. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, my mouth feeling filled with sand with the dryness in my throat.
Being hunted was bad enough, believing I was just one of the masses the Wild Hunt needed to collect. The idea of being singled out was inconceivable.
I shook my head slightly, waiting for him to push the questions, but he only nodded as if he understood that I couldn’t give him answers. I knew nothing about why they had chosen to go after me while abandoning him. What I did know was that I would never be able to fight them off on my own. I hadn’t fared well the first time, but Caelum had held his own. He’d have lost eventually, if they hadn’t given up, but I’d need someone at my side to help me fight if and when the time came again.
I needed him far more than he needed me. The pang of guilt within me was an echo of the knowledge that I’d probably get him killed, just as I had Brann. “What do we do now?” I asked, feeling awkward in the face of the attitude I’d given him at the bottom of the cliff. I should have been more appreciative of the fact that he’d come to save me, but something about him just brought out my impulsiveness.