For a moment, nothing happens. Then, with a crack like a gunshot, the wall explodes outward, sending chunks of stone and debris flying through the air like shrapnel.
I yelp, ducking down and covering my head as bits of rock rain around us. When the dust settles, I peek out from behind my arms, my eyes widening at the sight of the gaping hole in the wall.
"Holy shit," I breathe, my voice shaking with awe and disbelief. "Nice work."
We peer through the hole like a couple of kids trying to sneak a peek at their Christmas presents, our eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger. But nothing but a vast, cavernous space stretches before us.
The sound of rushing water fills my ears, and I cock my head to the side, trying to pinpoint the source. "Do you hear that?" I ask Rhyland, my voice echoing off the walls like a ghostly whisper.
He nods, his eyes narrowing as he listens. "It sounds like a waterfall."
From how the sound bounces around the cavern, I'm guessing it's somewhere outside.
We go through the opening, picking our way over the rubble and debris like mountain goats. The cavern opens up even more as we go, revealing a world of glowing algae and scattered pirate shit that looks like it's been here since the dawn of time.
The smell of salt and decay clings to the back of my throat like a sour aftertaste. It's like someone left a fish to rot in a locker room, and the stench is enough to make my eyes water, and I have to fight the urge to gag. But I push through it, my eyes fixed on the prize ahead.
We wind our way around the cavern until we're on the backside of the pirate ship, the hulking mass of wood and metal looming over us like a giant. It's still a reasonable distance away, but we can see a way to get to it from this angle.
"I think if we can tie a rope up there," I say, pointing to a beam that looks like it's been grown into the walls like a tree, "maybe we can swing across like a couple of discount Tarzans."
Rhyland raises an eyebrow. "Discount Tarzans? Really?"
I shrug, a grin spreading across my face. "Hey, if the loincloth fits..."
He shakes his head, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
I wink at him, my heart skipping at how his eyes darken with desire.
"There's a plank we can jump onto over there," Rhyland points to a rickety-looking board sticking out of the ship's side like a rotting tooth. "That seems like our best bet."
I follow his gaze. "You've got to be kidding me," my voice flat with disbelief. "That thing looks like it's one strong fart away from crumbling into sawdust."
Rhyland grins, the expression cocky and infuriating and sexy as hell. "What's the matter, baby? Afraid of a little adventure?"
I snort, "Adventure? More like a one-way ticket to a watery grave. That thing wouldn't hold a stuffed animal—let alone two grown-ass adults."
Rhyland's grin widens, his eyes glinting with a challenge. "Only one way to find out."
I shake my head, my stomach churning with fear and exasperation. "No way. No fucking way. I am not risking my life on a piece of driftwood that looks like it's been chewed up and spit out by Jaws himself."
Rhyland is done with my bullshit. He takes off like a bullet, leaping for the plank like he's got springs in his feet. He makes it in one jump, gripping the side and hauling himself up like it's nothing. His muscles strain against his shirt, and I can't help but stare in appreciation a little, even in the middle of this life-or-death situation.
He stands up, stomping on the plank to prove a point. "Looks pretty damn sturdy to me."
I roll my eyes, my heart pounding as I realize what he expects me to do. "Okay, smartass," I mutter under my breath.
"Your turn, baby," he calls out. "Just run and don't stop. I'll catch you." He says it like it's the easiest thing in the world as if he's asking me to toss him a beer from across the room.
Jesus Christ. I know I've got some serious Neo-level moves regarding combat, but long jumps? That's a hard pass. With my luck, I'd probably do a graceful swan dive straight into the water, only to become a snack for our friendly neighborhood sea monster. No thanks, I'll leave the Olympic-level leaps to the professionals and stick to kicking ass on solid ground.
But Rhyland, being the stubborn bastard he is, isn't taking no for an answer. "You got this, Angel," his voice softening slightly. "Come on."
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. I step back as far as I can, my eyes scanning the area for anything that might give me an advantage. And then I see it—a slight rise in the ground, just to my right. It's not much, but it might be enough to give me the boost I need.
I map out my jump like Sherlock Holmes, using the rise as a makeshift launching pad. I can practically see the equations floating in front of my eyes, the trajectory of my leap calculated down to the millimeter.
I'm gonna freaking die.
