“Fucking hell, Beth, what happened in there?” He knelt beside me, gaze scanning me frantically, concern deepening. “You’re wet and covered in blood.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“I rather suspect that’s another of your understatements.” Mathi’s voice was dry. “Especially since you’re missing a boot, and your foot looks a mess.”
“It is? It does?”
I pushed up into a sitting position; Lugh immediately pressed a leg against my back, preventing me from falling back. The bottom half of my boot was indeed missing, but all my toes were where they should be, and while there were a couple of deepish cuts, they obviously hadn’t hit anything vital, given I could still wiggle everything.
“Well,” I said, “at least this time there isn’t a claw sticking out of it.”
“I take it that happened in the past?” Bodhrán asked, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief.
“She does have a habit of getting a little too close to pointy deadly things,” Mathi said. “Did you at least find the harp?”
“I did. It’s tucked under the suit.”
“Good. Then I suggest we get out of here, just in case those ellul or whatever other magic protects that place decides it really needs the harp back.” Mathi hesitated, his gaze skimming down to my foot again. “You able to walk?”
I nodded. In truth, my feet—and the rest of me—were so damn cold I really wasn’t feeling much in the way of pain. The coverall should have protected me to some extent from my plunge into the lake, but multiple teeth tearing into it, trying to get at my flesh, meant I was more than a little wet underneath it.
“No walking until I at least treat your foot,” Lugh growled, then swung off his pack and retrieved a small medical kit.
I patiently waited while he washed, cleaned, and bandaged my foot before inspecting the various other bite sites and treating the worst of them. Once that was done, he and Mathi caught my elbows and helped me rise. I tentatively put weight onto my foot; pain slithered up my limb, but it was manageable.
Whether I’d still think that by the time I got out of here was another matter entirely.
Lugh untied the rope, wound it up and stashed it back into his pack, then motioned Bodhrán to take the lead again, with me sandwiched between Mathi and Lugh. We made it back to the bridge without incident, and while the field of ghostly fingers reappeared, their murmurings were filled with relief—which only made me wonder how many people had come seeking the pectoral in the past and failed. If the ghosts knew, they weren’t saying.
Bodhrán and Mathi went up the steep incline first, then Lugh roped me on, and the two men hauled me up. Which was good, because weariness now pulsed through me, and I really doubted I would have had the strength to physically haul my ass anywhere right now. It was becoming an effort to even walk.
Thankfully, the journey to the surface didn’t really take all that long. As the door once again opened, triggered by who knew what, we stripped off our overalls and climbing harnesses and handed them back to Lugh. Once he’d stuffed them into the packs, we headed out.
Darby waited in the rain on the other side of the tunnel’s entrance, her coat drawn tightly around her body and face, and thick gloves on hands that held a takeout cup. My stomach rumbled a reminder that I hadn’t had anything to eat that morning aside from cake, and that was probably half the reason why I felt so weary.
Darby straightened as I limped out, her relief turning to consternation. “What the hell have you done to yourself? And why are you the only one who is not only wet but injured?”
“I was the only one who got into the cavern. There were ellul with sharp teeth.”
“Of course there were, because why fucking not?” She shook her head and rose. “Let’s get you out of this rain so I can patch you up.”
I nodded and limped after her. Mathi and Lugh basically carried me up the embankment, but by the time we reached the car, I was shivering. A delayed reaction to what had happened more than the bitterness in the air, I suspected.
Mathi opened the Cruiser’s tailgate, and I sat down, then eased back on my butt so that my feet weren’t dangling close to the ground, making it easier for Darby to treat them.
“Here,” she said, handing me the coffee. “Drink the rest of that—it’ll help with the shakes until I can chase the chill from your skin. Lugh and Mathi can go grab us all a fresh cup.”
“And food.Hotfood,” I said. “I am starving.”
“It is indeed a miracle you’re still functioning,” Darby commented. “It usually takes several bacon butties and a number of chocolate bars to get you through somethingthatintense.”
She wasn’t talking about the expedition. She was talking about me, Cynwrig, and last night. I might not have said anything, but she’d obviously been picking up some telltale vibes.
“Bacon butties and plane kitchens are never a good combination,” Mathi said, his voice dry but bedevilment dancing in his eyes. “And if you had indeed spent less time in?—”
“Never going to happen,” I cut in evenly. “I tried. Sadly, I am not that strong.”
“Oh, you are, as evidenced by the fact you’ve been resisting my magnificence for months now.”
