“Briana, answer me.”
Gritting her teeth, Bree focused through the pain. If she stayed there, gave in to the agony, she would die. She didn’t know how badly she was hurt, but she had to get out of the hole, she had to get help.
Scraping noises seeped into her mind and she looked up. A long branch was edging its way down the side of the hole.
“Briana, listen to me if you can: take hold of the branch.”
Bree held her arm close to her chest and sat up, gazing at the end of the branch. Even if she stood on tippy toes, she wouldn’t be able to touch it, let alone hold on to it. Clenching her teeth, she scooted back until she rested against the wall.
She cried out to Horland. “Too short.”
The branch disappeared over the rim of the hole and now that her eyes cleared, Bree realized the hole was encased with stone. So not a newly formed trap then, but whoever set it cleverly used an empty well.
Using the wall of the well to push against, she stood up and trailed the fingers of her good arm along the stone. Whoever the stonemason was, he was a skilled tradesman because even after she didn’t know how many years, the stones aligned so well, even if she had two good arms, she wouldn’t be able to climb them.
“It’s no good, Horland.” Tears filled her eyes as she hugged her broken arm to her chest. “The hole’s too deep. I can’t climb out.”
It struck her then that there was a way out. If he gave her the orb, she could use it to go back home.
“Horland. Throw me the orb.”
“What?”
“Throw the trinket down to me. I can use it to get out.”
“That is absurd. How can that help you?”
A surge of anger negated the pain. “I told you, you stupid man, I’m from the future and with it I can get home and get help. I’m hurt, for Pete’s sake, and I don’t know how bad. Don’t you even care?”
His head appeared against the blue sky and while she couldn’t see his face or make out his expression, she sensed his anger.
She had every right to be angry, but he didn’t. He wasn’t stuck down a massive hole, broken and in agony.
Fighting against the pain, she tipped her head back and gazed up. “Please.”
He dropped something down the hole. She couldn’t make out what it was in the dark, but she felt it pass her face. She snapped out her hand but missed and it fell at her feet. She groaned and bent down. Her hand found a smooth egg-shaped object and letting out a cry of anguish and mixed delight, she picked it up.
“Thank you,” she called up.
Chapter 15
Horland drew in a quick breath and peered down the old well, blinked rapidly then refocused. Briana was there, he could make out her red hair in the dim light that made its way to the bottom, but she disappeared before his very eyes.
Or did she?
“Briana!”
Mayhap she fell, fainted perhaps? If so, the darkness had covered her.
“Briana!”
She didn’t fall or faint—she was no longer there. But Horland’s brain refused to make sense of it. How could the trinket, whether it be Briana’s or Patricia’s, whisk her away like that? It was not possible.
He sat there for he didn’t know how long, not seeing, not thinking, just staring down into the well.
A bird’s warble started him out of his trance. He gazed up scanning for the source. A small, red-breasted robin stood on the branch Briana had sat on only minutes before. The robin shook its feathers, sang a short song, opened its wings, andflew away. He sat back on his heels. Robins were Patricia’s favorite bird.
A picture of Patricia came to his mind. She stood in the castle’s garden smiling and laughing at a robin perched on her forearm. That smile made his heart jolt. He quickly conjured up an image of Briana smiling and laughing at his fishing skills.
