away into the deeper shadow of an ancient apple tree.
“I want you to go with Eduard,” he said softly. “He cannot handle a boat alone.”
“But—”
“I do not want to argue, Gillian. This has nothing to do with my wanting to send you out of the castle to keep you safe—God knows, I would despair of calling anywhere safe at this moment. Nor has it anything to do with you being a woman, for you have shown the courage of ten men since this whole thing started. No, the plain truth is, we need you and your bow arm down below. God willing, if we should somehow succeed at freeing Lady Servanne, and if we should survive the descent to the beach, I would rather know your bow was waiting for us at the bottom instead of taking the risk of having it silenced at the top.”
Gil’s mouth opened to protest, then closed again as a tremor passed through her chin.
“Besides,” he added gently. “You know yourself, you are terrified of heights. You can scarcely climb a tree without turning as green as the leaves. The cliffs drop six hundred feet straight down, with the darkness and the wind there to hamper our every step. You would never make it down.”
“How did you know?”
“It was one of the smaller things that gave your secret away,” he said, smiling as he tenderly laid his hand against her cheek.
For once Gil did not pull away from his touch. She bent her head forward and rested her brow against his chin, and her sigh was like a chorus of angels’ voices in his ears.
“Such a foolish weakness,” she whispered.
“Nothing … absolutely nothing about you, Gillian, is foolish or weak,” Alaric stated flatly. “And if we come through this … when we come through this, I intend to prove how much I love you, and to prove how much stronger we both can be if we share our pain and our love together.”
Gil tilted her face upward at the urging of his lean fingers and their mouths came together, lightly at first, in a kiss so fragile it took her breath away. A sob of surrender saw them clinging more hungrily to one another, mouths, bodies, hearts binding together until the sound of an apologetic cough forced them apart.
“Forgive me,” Lucien said, “But by the sound of it, they have broken through to the donjon. We must move quickly to reach the gate before the avenues are sealed off.”
Alaric smiled briefly. “The matter is settled. Gil will go with Eduard.”
Gil backed away, a sudden glimmer of light reflecting off the brightness welling in her eyes.
“I guess this leaves just you and me, my friend.”
Alaric winced. “I was never very fond of heights myself, you know. I suppose it would be too much to hope there were a few ambitious monks confined in the eyrie at one time or another?”
“Sorry, no. Only one way down. But look you to the bright side: At least we know we have three ways to get away once we have made the rescue.”
Alaric watched Eduard limping his way out of the orchard, followed by a grumbling dwarf, a half-throttled knight cradling a useless arm to his breast, three bleeding knights wearing the garb of their enemies, and a slender, long-limbed woman who had steadfastly refused to abandon her longbow despite the danger and awkwardness of carrying it.
“How” he murmured, “can we possibly fail?”
“How could they have gotten out of here? Where could they have gone?”
The Dragon stood over D’Aeth’s gored body and the rage sent his blood running cold through his veins. His gaze touched upon each of the dead guards with a detachment that only considered the loss of life in terms of loss of manpower—and inconvenience.
“Fools!” he spat. “Not one of them with the sense to ring the alarm bell. This travesty could well have gone undiscovered until morning if not for a sound mind elsewhere.”
Nicolaa was crouched over one of the guards. “This one is still alive. He has lost enough blood to be dead twice over, but he is still alive.”
The Dragon skirted quickly around D’Aeth’s body and stepped over another to get to where Nicolaa stood. The guard was huddled at her feet, a mass of quivering agony. A long, slender ashwood arrow was still embedded in the length of his forearm, the fletching stuck out from between his fingers, the steel tip dripping blood from his shattered elbow.