And I only listen with a half an ear, because in my head, all I hear is Pashov’s voice.
Good.
You are staying with the hunters. Good.
Why is that good? I don’t understand.
“Here we are,” Harrec declares as Bek stops the sled. Harrec holds a hand out to me to help me down.
Pashov pushes him aside, growling. “Leave Stay-see alone.”
The hunter merely laughs and shrugs, ignoring the dark looks that both Bek and Pashov give him. I’m mystified by thisreaction—Harrec has always been a close friend of Pashov’s. Why the sudden dislike for him now?
Is something else going on that I’m unaware of? Has he forgotten his friendship with Harrec? Cold sinks into my belly at the thought. Is this why Pashov is distant? He’s forgetting more and more?
It is a good thing you are back, then, I tell myself, trying not to panic. The healer is here. She will know what to do.
I hope.
Pashov takes Pacy from me and helps me down off the sled. It feels good to stretch my legs, but I can’t help but stare at the gorge, the edge of which we are standing far too close to.
Did they say this thing was a valley? It looks more like the ice-age version of the Grand Canyon. I shiver at the sight of it and move closer to my mate. “And this appeared out of nowhere? After the earthquake?”
Bek grunts. “Someone says it may have been covered with thick ice and that the ice broke during the earthquake.”
That must have been some damn ice. “How…how deep is this?”
“Oh, many, many hands deep,” Harrec says cheerfully. “The metlak and snow-cats do not dare come down here because they will not be able to get back up!”
That…doesn’t make me feel much better. “How do we get down?”
“Rope,” Harrec declares, gesturing at a spot on the edge. There’s a rock jutting up near the lip of the canyon, and I can see a loop of rope around it, leading down. I take a step closer to the edge?—
—And immediately get dizzy. It’s deep. Oh god. Really deep. I whimper and jerk backward, flinging myself into Pashov’s embrace.
“Shhh,” he murmurs, stroking my hair.
“What is it?” Harrec asks.
I can’t speak. I’m panting, terrified. My heart is hammering in my chest, and my entire body tingles with fear. I can’t do it. I can’t. It’s too far to fall.
“It is nothing,” Pashov says. “Can you unload the sled while I speak to my mate?”
They get to work, and Pashov steers me gently away from them—and the edge. “Be calm, my mate.”
I press my hand to my mouth, only to feel my fingers trembling wildly. “Did I mention I’m scared of heights?” I say with a nervous laugh. “Because I am. Really, really afraid. Can’t we walk down?”
“If there was a way to walk down, I do not think they would use the rope,” Pashov says, his voice hinting at amusement. “It will be all right, I promise. And you will only have to do this once.” He strokes my cheek. “After that, you will be safe, and you will be home.”
Oh sure, easy for him to say. I shiver, trying to erase the mental image of the yawning gorge out of my brain. I can’t stay up here. I have to go down. Have to. At the bottom is the village, and people, and safety. I just have to get there. “I don’t think I can climb and carry Pacy at the same time,” I tell him.
“I will carry him,” Pashov says easily. He continues to stroke my cheek, doing his best to soothe my panic. “Will that make you feel better?”
“An elevator would make me feel better,” I say with a watery, nervous laugh. I’m trying not to lose my cool, but it’s hard. All I want to do is turn around and run…which is stupid. We’ve traveled so far and there’s nothing to go back to. I try to look over at the canyon again, and the sick feeling clenches in my belly once more. “I think I need a minute to prepare.”
He nods and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I will help them unload. Can you hold Pacy until we are ready?”
I take my baby back and hug him close, ignoring his little cry of protest at my tight squeezing. The wind picks up and whips my leather tunic around my body, and I shiver, imagining the earth underneath my feet moving like it did in the earthquake. It feels very fragile and unstable here on the edge of the cliff…but that just might be my imagination. I feel like if I lean too far over to one side, I will tip over the edge and tumble into the ravine. Which is crazy, considering I’m standing about twenty feet away from the side, but I can’t help the way I feel.
