we rose to our feet, my head spinning with the possibilities. If this were a zombie Jamie, wouldn’t he be a mindless killing machine like Drew? His skin melting off like Gregory? Or was that just from the effects of the zombie fungus?
“I’ll jump across and throw the rope back,” Ewan called from where he perched on the stone rail, knees bent for the dismount.
When we’d first returned to our escape route, we’d noticed the rope had come untied from the terrace. Now it hung useless from the yew tree, fifteen feet way. It was a leap I doubted I could make without the rope, but I had to let Ewan try. I gave a quick nod and he launched himself into the air. For a moment, he appeared suspended, arms spread, dark cloak flapping behind him like a flying squirrel. Then he gripped a jutting branch that bowed under his weight, and he swung to his perch in the tree.
The pound of boots grew louder, intermingled with the yap of hounds. Jamie’s warm fingers closed around my bare wrist. His touch rocked me so deeply, I gasped. Refusing to look at him, I grit my teeth and pulled away.
“Ye go first and I’ll follow.”
I gave a nod, and when the rope slapped into the banister I grabbed it and climbed up onto the ledge. I glanced back to see Jamie retrieving his sword, just as guards rounded the corner.
“Stop in the name of the queen!”
The queen, my behind! Tempted to turn and face my betrayers, I forced myself to focus on my mission and leapt off the banister. I flew through the night, and before I had time to think, Ewan clutched my arms and steadied me on the branch beside him. Grabbing an overhead limb, I spun around, but could just make out flashes of movement in the alcove and hear the metallic clash of steel meeting steel as Jamie fought the witch’s soldiers. My heart hammered into my temples. “Throw the rope!”
I grabbed it and tried to jerk it out of Ewan’s fist, but he held tight and whispered, “Wait.”
“Wait for what?” I hissed, my head about to explode. “To watch him die in front of me this time?” Regardless of my doubts, I couldn’t let that happen.
Ewan stepped backward along the branch, his body forcing me to move deeper into the tree. “The witch’s sentries may not have seen us. We canna risk lettin’ them inform her that ye’ve been in the castle.”
“But we have no idea how many guards are over there. We need to help him!” My voice rose in panic as shouts and barking carried to us, followed by what sounded like a bar brawl. Grunts and growls. Crashing metal and the thump of bodies. I stared hard at the shadowed space, but could only see quick bursts of action.
“The MacCrae is one of the best swordsmen I’ve ever seen,” Ewan answered while keeping his gaze glued to the terrace. “In the lists, I’ve seen him take down five armed guards by himself.”
A body went flying over the balcony rail. My breath stopped, until the large man smacked into the water next to the dock, and I recognized that it wasn’t Jamie.
“And he fights dirty.” A begrudging admiration laced Ewan’s words, as if he’d been on the receiving end of his leader’s particular brand of attack more than once.
The commotion in the darkened alcove seemed to lessen, and Ewan inched forward along the branch. A familiar sharp command sounded, followed by the cessation of barking and a low whine—Jamie quieting the hounds. I’d always marveled at how he could calm Blaz with a stern noise and a touch to the dog’s neck. If he were the witch in disguise or a mindless zombie, would he know to do that?
“Throw the rope.”
Just as the words left my mouth, Jamie hopped onto the railing. Ewan rushed forward, tossed the rope, and we both worked our way back toward the trunk to make room on the branch. Jamie swung through the air and landed with the powerful grace of a big cat, the limb dipping gently beneath his added weight.
“We should go,” Jamie panted as he swiped blood from a cut on his cheek. “One of the men escaped.”
But I couldn’t move. My fingers gripped the rough edges of bark at my back as I examined his face. The moon filtered through the scattered foliage, peppering his countenance with blotches of night. Was this my Jamie?