“Come on, big guy,” Lydia coaxes, wedging a shoulder under one of my arms as leverage. “Get your feet under you. Come on. Stand up. You’ll drown if you fall over.” She tries using one of her legs to maneuver my feet straight and nearly loses her hold on me.
“It is alright,” I tell her, but I do not think she understands what I say, because her brow wrinkles in confusion.
Did her translator somehow break? That is impossible. Which means…I try talking again, and this time I notice how unmanageable my tongue is. Much too large for my mouth. Or is my mouth much too small for my tongue?
“Come on!” Lydia orders in herI am scudding angryvoice. And it is so exactly like Lydia to be angry that I somehow get my legs to start working again until I am standing on my own two feet.
I sway, but catch myself against the cave wall, grabbing at the uneven stone until I find a handhold.
The water is as high as my knees now, which means it is high up Lydia’s thighs. She does little to acknowledge its presence though, studying my face as though trying to memorize every one of my scales.
“Fuck, Killan.” Her shirt is torn at the shoulder. Her cheeks are pale, and her eyes wide. “You’ve got blood—” She uses herhand to wipe it away, and winces, evidently concerned by what she sees.
“I am well,” I attempt to say, speaking slowly and carefully, and this time she must understand me because she lets out a humourless laugh.
“The only reason why I’m not yelling at you for being so fucking reckless is because you’re most certainly not okay.” She forces a smile. I know it is forced because it reminds me of Roan’s first smiles, when he was trying to replicate the Human emotion. “We need to get out of here. Do you think you can walk?”
I nod, which is a terrible idea. It sends a fresh wave of pain through my skull. Blood, I think, must be what is blurring my vision. It is dripping down my forehead into my eyes. But head wounds always bleed a lot. That does not mean they are serious.
I would tell Lydia this, if I thought I could say so many words and not jumble them together. In the end, Lydia grabs her light and leaves me standing there, propped against the wall, as she wades through the water, searching for the exit.
Everything looks different, half underwater, half washed away. Only the largest of the stalactites and stalagmites remain, and the once-dry cave looks nearly ready to be seeded with algae.
I do not know how long Lydia is gone. I might have passed out, except that I am still standing when she returns, my forehead resting against the cold rock.
“Come on. The way back is over there.” And she nods to her left, wrapping an arm around my waist, as if intending to help me walk, despite our size difference. Despite the fact that if I were to fall, I could easily drag her under the water with me.
That gets my feet moving, and I follow her directions to the adjoining cave. It has flooded too, but there is a section of ground near the back that is high enough to have remained fairly dry, and it is there that I finally let myself drop to my knees. Icrawl the last few feet and press my back to the wall, cramming my shoulder against a column in an attempt to stop myself from sliding sideways.
Lydia
Killan closes his eyes, and I’m scared he’s passed out. But he doesn’t slump sideways or fall over, and when I check his temperature, he mumbles something under his breath, too softly for me to hear but proof he’s still awake, at least for the moment. He doesn’t look good. There’s a cut across his brow that drips blood into his eyes. But it’s not that which has me worried, since the cut doesn’t look too deep, thanks to the protection of his scales.
It’s the lump on top of his head that I’m concerned about. It’s about half the size of my fist. His scales must have absorbed some of the impact, but they’ve cracked and stretched to accommodate the swelling underneath.
If he were Human, he’d probably be dead.
If he hadn't shielded me from the worst of the deluge, I’d probably be dead.
Fuck. Fuck!I sit back on my heels, glancing around at the mess, trying to comprehend what happened. This cave isn’t nearly so bad, but most of the floor is flooded, and debris floats on the surface—pieces of rock, broken shards of crystals, snapped and splintered stalactites. Even some of my clothes, which I make a grab for as they drift by.
In all the chaos, I forgot about my duffle bag. It must have gotten ruined, or maybe I left it unzipped. Either way, my clothes and food are scattered across the waterlogged floor of two caves.
Thank God, I managed to grab the light. Otherwise, we’d be fucked.
I don’t understand what happened. One second, everything was fine. The next was utter madness. And Killan…he risked his life to save me and is suffering the consequences.
His eyes are flickering under his double lids, and I lean closer to listen to his breathing—to see if it’s raspy or waterlogged, but it sounds clear. In fact, he’s breathing the deep and long breaths of sleep. Hopefully that’s a good sign—that he didn’t fall unconscious but that he fell asleep. Sleep is healing. Sleep hopefully means he isn’t in too much pain.
Using the hem of my T-shirt, I cautiously dab at his cut. It’s already clotting, but I don’t have any disinfectant with which to clean it properly. I don’t actually have anything of much use, and the few pieces of spare clothing I’ve managed to capture are too wet to use as towels or bedding.
I spread them out on what little high ground remains clear with the ludicrous hope that they’ll dry. My hands are shaking, and I vaguely wonder if I’m going into shock. But I don’t have the energy to worry about myself, not when Killan nearly got himself killed.
What the hell was he doing down here, anyway? Following me? Even though I’d told him not to? Of course he didn’t listen. He never listens. When he gets an idea, he’s too stubborn to consider the possibility that maybe there’s a better way. He bosses Sorin and Roan around, expecting them to do whatever he says. And I bet he thought he could come down here and boss me around too.
“You bloody fool,” I scold, but I keep my voice soft so as not to disturb him. “You should’ve stayed away.”
Or I never should’ve run away.
