Forged (Star Breed #10) - Elin Wyn Page 0,33

to a stone column in the middle of the far cavern, “looks sturdy enough to hold us.”

With a massive heave, he cast the spear across the gap. It hit the target, the spear quivering as it stuck in the rock.

But it didn’t hit deeply enough. One tug, and it clattered to the ground.

He hauled the spear back across with the vine, and threw again.

The second and third casts didn’t make any difference.

I stopped him before he tried again. Permasteel was strong, but eventually even it would dull.

“What about those over there?” I pointed to a different area of the cavern, a little closer than what he’d been aiming for. “Can you reach that?”

There were no giant columns of stone, instead, a tangle of waist-high growths came up from the floor, looking rather like a miniature stone forest.

“Sure,” Hakon said, “but there’s not enough to hold onto, I don’t think.”

“Maybe it doesn’t need to be a direct strike,” I said. “Here, let’s try adjusting something.”

Quickly I found the stone samples I’d taken earlier from the rock fall and, with a shorter length of vine, bound both of them to the spear right above where the rope attached.

“Can you still throw it?” I said doubtfully. “Is it too awkward now?”

“Why do you insult me like that?” Hakon answered, checking the balance of the now top-heavy contraption.

“It may not need to stick into the stone,” I explained. “What if it just needs to get horribly tangled up?”

“Well, the direct way didn’t work,” he agreed. “Let’s try this.”

He flung the spear and tethered stones towards the tangle of rocks and with a clatter, it hit midway.

“Perfect!”

“No celebrating yet,” he said. “Let’s see.”

He pulled the vine back towards us and my heart sank at the grinding noise as the spear slid through the stones.

But then it stuck, caught by the makeshift bolo.

Hakon pulled the line sharply.

It held.

He heaved against it twice more. It didn’t budge.

“I’ll go over first and test it.” he announced. “If it holds me, I’ll come back for you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I argued. “How do you know whether the vines will hold up to being used repeatedly?” I lifted my chin and crossed my arms over my chest. “We go together, or not at all.”

“You could’ve said that before I threw away my poking stick,” Hakon grumbled.

Using the last bit of rope, we fashioned a crude harness to keep me strapped to Hakon’s back, our bag of components and mosses strapped tightly against mine.

Clinging to his back, I tried to keep out of the way of his arms as he wrapped the vine around his wrist twice and gave it a final tug.

“Let’s do this thing,” he said, and jumped.

If I’d been terrified when I saw him leap from the airlock of Station 112, that was nothing to the terror and exhilaration I felt now when I was strapped to him, flying through the air.

We swung out over the gap, so fast it was just a blur before I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on breathing in the spicy scent of his skin.

With a sudden jolt, we hit the far wall.

“So far, so good, Yas,” Hakon said. “Now it’s just climbing.”

“Just, he says,” I laughed. “Should I assume there’s nothing I can do to help with the process?”

“Not really, unless you know any good stories to pass the time.”

My mind was completely blank.

“I’ll think of something later, I promise,” I said weakly.

“I’ll hold you to it,’’ he said, and beneath my hands I could feel the broad muscles of his back as he slowly, deliberately, hauled us up the rope.

Faster than I thought possible, we were up and over the edge.

Arms shaking, I wiggled out of the harness and steadied myself by clutching a handy pile of rocks.

Irritatingly, Hakon didn’t look winded at all.

“Do you need a break?” he asked, brow furrowed with concern.

“Don’t you?” I snapped, unable to help myself.

“Not really,” he said, untangling the vine, now stretched and shredded from the spear. He looked at it reluctantly. “Hopefully, we won’t need it again, I don’t think I’d trust it a second time. You were right.”

I pulled the vine into a loose bundle and sank down onto a soft pile of moss. “It won’t hold our weight anymore, but it might still have some uses.” Knotting it into a haphazard net, I was grateful to have something quiet to do while catching my breath. “This way we could bring back even more samples.”

I wagged a finger at his cocked eyebrow. “Don’t laugh