Confused, I glance up to find him motioning me closer. My stiff back aches as I push off the ground and hobble toward him. Cautiously, he reaches for my hand and tugs me down so I’m sitting in his lap. His warmth envelops me like a cozy blanket, his bare chest firm yet soft beneath my cheek as I curl into him, letting him hold me, begging for some of his strength to seep into my bones and replace all these fears plaguing my mind.
I feel his hand run down the length of my hair, reminding me of a time when my mother used to sit me in front of the fireplace and comb through my unruly curls.
“Go to sleep, Nia.”
My name vibrates through his chest, striking my heart.
Nia. Nia. Nia.
“What about you?” I murmur on the tail end of a yawn.
“I will keep you safe.”
Maddox Finch might’ve lied to me before, but in this, I’m certain he’s telling the truth.
23
Maddox
“Always hold her hand.”
— Nia Quill’s List
My rib is definitely broken, and my head throbs from the gouge at the back. Then there is my twisted leg. Other than that, I am well, all things considered. Turns out, there is a bottom to the great canyon. Who knew?
Firelight plays on the canopy of gnarled branches and leaves above us, a gaping hole cut out where we fell through. My shoulder complains as I reach for more wood to add to the fire, careful not to disturb the female curled like my Biscuits in my lap.
It could be dislocated. Not ideal considering we do not know what sort of monsters lie in wait down here.
Nia whimpers in her sleep, a sound that makes my body ache worse than all the other pains combined. I was afraid to invite her closer, but her face was so distraught when she tried to find comfort on the uneven ground. The moment she sat down, shemelted into me, her bones becoming my bones. Her heartbeat in harmony with mine.
Such foolish thoughts.
Nia is not a wayward goat to adopt and keep for myself.
I must not let myself grow more attached.
When the new day arrives, we will need to cleanse our wounds. Then we must find shelter and assess where to go from here. Thanks to my visit to our camp, I have some food, but there will not be enough to keep Nia satiated for long. She will need more, and I must find a way to provide it for her.
Perhaps there will be fish in the river. Water means plenty of prey. But also many predators.
Water means wolves.
I trace the scars on my ribs, their phantom sting a sobering reminder of how differently my last encounter could have turned out. Now there is even more at stake.
The wolves.That is the answer.
A few months back, they climbed a trail from the depths of the canyon. If we can find it, perhaps we will be saved as well.
This would mean going toward the danger and not away from it. What other choice do we have? We do not know what lies south of the bridge. North is our best option.
If only I had thought to grab my rucksack before leaping into the canyon. We could have used the supplies within.
Not that I expected to survive.
But we did survive, and now we must make do with only the single dagger on my belt. I will give the blade to Nia to protect herself while I forage for sustenance.
She sleeps soundly, with her hands tucked beneath her cheek. It is strange to see such a vibrant female looking so peaceful. A welcome change from our last interaction before she came to the bridge.
