From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [160]
“Do that, then, after Sir Eagan pushes off.”
“I can just bloodvoice her when we’re ready for them,” her father said.
“Even better,” Peripaso said. “In fact, can you bloodvoice everyone? It would be a bit safer than havin’ ’em all count.”
“Will do,” Sir Eagan said.
“I’m off, then.” And Peripaso whooped a joyful laugh that faded as the tunnel swept him away.
“Well, he makes that sound like a grand adventure,” Sir Rigil said.
Gren’s voice came from right behind Averella. “I don’t want any grand adventures. Especially through an icy tunnel.”
Something slid past Averella’s knee. She jumped, then realized it was the rope. Jax was gathering it up. She tucked her fingers under her arms and tried not to think about it being her turn soon. The action helped her fingers, but her breastplate felt frosty against her arms.
A hand patted her head, her shoulder. “Averella?” Sir Eagan’s voice lacked its usual calm. She reached up and clasped her suede-covered hand to his. He squeezed. “All will be well. I love you, Averella.”
His words sent heat through her body. She felt a deep connection with this man. But love? “I remember so little, but thank you for loving me.”
He squeezed her hand again and released it. “You are most welcome, dear child. I am going down now.”
“But what about Peripaso?”
“He’s reached the bottom. Listen for my voice.”
“I will.”
Sir Eagan did not cry out when he launched himself down the tunnel, but Averella could hear the whir of his body sliding away over the ice.
“Did he go?” Gren asked.
“Yes.”
Gren exhaled a long sigh. “He’s a brave one.”
Averella moved her pack to her front, so she would not lie on it. Her stomach wrung within her. Her teeth chattered. How fast would she slide over the ice? How deep was the water? How cold was it? She had never been the strongest swimmer. If there was a current, would it sweep her away before Peripaso and Sir Eagan could catch her?
What if the men didn’t catch her at all? What if they were not there? What if a cham dwelled in this cavern with the convenient water source? What if it shot fire at her and ate her for dinner? What if it had already eaten Peripaso and her father? The thought tempted her to look through their eyes, but she was worried the act would weaken her. And she wanted to be strong for whatever she might face at the end of the—
Sir Eagan Elk.
She opened her mind. Yes?
Come on down, Averella. We are waiting.
He did not sound worried or hurt, but it was easy to control the tone of your voice while bloodvoicing. I am coming, Sir Eagan.
Averella scooted to the ledge, feeling with her hands until she felt the side dip down. “I’m going, Gren.”
Gren’s voice trembled. “Oh, be careful!”
“Feet first, my lady,” Sir Rigil added.
“And keep your arms in.” This from Bran.
“I shall.” Averella straightened her legs and scooted to the edge. Her heart beat like a tabor drum inside her head. She could not help but be grateful for the dark. It was better not to see where she was headed.
“Wait!” Gren screamed. “Who is going to tell me when to go?”
“Sir Eagan will. See you at the bottom.” Averella pushed off. She slid slowly over the lip, hugged her arms over her breastplate, laid back as best she could, then wiggled to make herself go.
And go she did.
She shot down the tunnel like an arrow in flight. Her heart, stomach, lungs—everything seemed to fly out, leaving her insides hollow and ringing. She hugged herself tight, wanting to scream, but no sound came. One of her internal organs lodged itself at the base of her throat, balled up, gnawing at her insides.
Before she was ready, golden light consumed her. The ground beneath her vanished. She could not help but release her arms as she flailed about for anything solid.
The pool of water was not solid.
It drenched her suddenly like a gown of icicles, pricking deep into her nerves and shocking her. Her feet hit a cold surface under the water. She kicked off it, splashed, and gasped. Strong hands grabbed her, pulled her up, lifted her out of the water.
The icy air burned her skin. She squirmed