She flattened her hand against the cold, hard stone wall and pushed herself forward into the darkness. There was no answer, and her heart squeezed tight with the pain. She fell to her knees.
Another sneeze. She jerked up her head.
That had been louder. He sounded as if he were just on the other side of the wall. She searched again. When her fingers slipped off the edge into nothingness, she yanked them back. Just as quickly, she put her hand back in and shifted her face closer. “Lachlann? Can ye hear me?”
A groan of pain wrenched her from complacency. With a louder voice, she called, “Lachlann, answer me.”
Unlike the other crevices that were shallow, her arm easily slipped through this narrow opening. She put her head close, peering through with one eye, but saw only darkness.
“Ethne.”
Lachlann!
He moaned as if in pain, but no one should have hurt him. He was to be held only, treated with respect. Verily, his friends would not allow him to be mistreated in any way. Would they?
“Lachlann?”
“Dear Father in Heaven, do not torture me so,” he said, his voice raw with emotion.
She slid her hand down the length of the crevice to the ground. It widened and she gasped.
“Ethne?” Lachlann sounded as if he’d moved to a sitting position.
“I am here, Lachlann.” She pressed herself into the opening, the walls squeezing against her on either side. Her face against the stone, she shifted her head up and down in desperation, but saw only darkness. “Can ye hear me?”
“I can hear ye.” His voice was louder. “Are ye a dream?”
Something scraped along the sand. Suddenly there was a light, and she saw him.
“Lachlann!” She pressed her hand through the tiny opening toward him. “See my hand?”
When he turned toward her, a burning piece of timber in his grasp, she was shocked at his red-rimmed eyes and gray pallor.
He caught sight of her hand and moved toward her. “Ethne.”
His hand was hot, his grasp weak. Her breath quickened.
She was just able to reach his shoulder, so she grabbed it and lodged herself tight between the walls until she could touch his face. “Lachlann, ye’re burning up.”
His expression slackened into a lazy smile, and he dropped to his knees, stopping just short of falling. He stuck the burning log into the ground a short distance from her and leaned his head against the wall that separated them.
He closed his eyes. “I thought I was imagining ye. Am I? Dinna tell me if I am. ’Tis a wonderful dream.”
He settled onto his bottom to be closer and kissed her hand before cupping it to his cheek, rough from his growth of beard. “I have had many strange dreams. This one gives me great comfort. Please. Stay with me.”
He sounded so weak. Her throat clogged with unshed tears. She needed to get some help for him. Aidan had wanted no outside witnesses to their private ritual and had said as much, but she couldn’t believe Lachlann’s friends would abandon him.
“Where are Niall and Aldred?”
He shrugged, his flattened lips dipping down at the corners. “I have seen no one.”
“No one?” Ethne shook her head. That couldn’t be true. “No one but the guard who brought ye water? And food, right?”
“Only at first. I’ve seen no one since.”
And Ethne had seen no one when she’d searched the brae. Her chest tight, she realized she shouldn’t have been looking for Thomas but the opening to the pit! Could she have been so near to finding him? In her mind, she saw the ridge and imagined the short distance to any opening that could connect to this area.
Her jaw slackened before she slammed it tight. That was no way to treat a prisoner. “I’ll be right back.”
