I could barely reach the boy, and with my first attempt my fingers only brushed against his ruffled hair.
But the boy’s father saw what I was doing, stood up on his toes—
This time I was able to grab the boy’s shoulder. His arm. I gripped the tree branch as tight as I could between my thighs and reached down with my other hand, catching his other arm as well.
The father lifted his child up, up—into my arms, and somehow I was able to haul the boy up onto the branch in front of me.
Just seconds before the final section of the platform below us collapsed completely.
The boy shrieked and kicked, sobbing as he screamed for his father. But the man was already falling.
His eyes met mine, though, for a split second, as the board beneath him fell away. There was a flash of relief there, of gratitude—before the fear took over.
I couldn’t watch. And the boy in front of me was still squirming, sobbing, fighting me. I had no idea if he’d seen his father fall—and I wasn’t sure if I could bear knowing.
“Please,” I said, gripping him as tightly as I could. “Please, please, we have to keep moving.”
I could already feel Alastor approaching behind me, his presence urging me onwards.
But if it was hard to crawl along the branch by myself, it was even harder with a traumatized child trying to writhe out of my grip. He may have been young, but he was strong enough for his kicks to knock the air right out of me. Or knock me off the branch completely, if I wasn’t careful.
“I’m trying to help you,” I told him, desperate. “Please.” I didn’t let myself look down again, didn’t let myself even see how far we would fall now if I couldn’t get us both to safety.
I managed to shuffle forward another foot or so before the kid’s heel hit me right in the ribs, hard enough to make me gasp.
“Please.” I was begging him now, on the verge of sobbing. “Please, just let me help you. Let me get you to the trunk.”
He didn’t listen. Didn’t stop screaming and crying. And there was nothing to do but swallow my tears and keep going, inch by agonizing inch, half-pushing and half-carrying the boy in front of me.
Theshiverrose on my skin again, a painful prickle that ran from my toes all the way to my scalp.
This time I was prepared. I threw myself down on the branch once more, the boy pinned beneath me, my arms around him and gripping the branch below. He shrieked, fighting me, but he couldn’t move very much with all my weight on top of him.
“Hold on tight,” I said, just as the next wave of essence hit us.
Because that’s what it had to be, I’d realized—wave after wave of pure essence, aiming right for the tree where we now clung. If Laitha or Mordren was behind this, their power had to be truly unimaginable…
The tree shook, but though our branch shuddered beneath us, it didn’t break. And we held on. The boy’s cries quieted as terror took over and he clung to the bark, to me, to anything he could reach.
And he remained quiet when the shaking stopped, as if he was too stunned to utter another sound.
“Wrap your arms around my neck,” I told him. “And your legs around my waist.”
I helped him twist so he could grab onto me properly, and thankfully, he didn’t fight me anymore. He clung to me for dear life, his tiny legs nearly crushing my ribs, but at least I could move now.
I dragged us both forward, toward the trunk. By the time I reached it, I was sweaty and trembling and scraped up everywhere, but that didn’t matter. I’ddone it.
But what are we supposed to do from here?I risked a glance back toward the others.
Alastor wasn’t far. There were others close behind him—two young girls, probably eight and ten, who looked so similar they had to be sisters. And beyond them, Octavian carried another small girl on his back as he crawled toward us.
Alastor’s face was a mask, his eyes focused downward as he crawled the last few feet to me. Only when his fingers brushed my skirt did he tear his eyes away from the carnage below and raise them to me.
“What do we do now?” I asked. My voice was ragged, raw, even though I hadn’t been using it.
He sat up slightly, looking above me, past my head.
“We go up,” he said. Even his voice sounded flat, with none of its usual bite. “There’s a door just above. By the next branch.”
