and startled me with a hug, tucking my head underneath his chin and stroking my spine.
As I filled myself with his calm breaths and even heartbeats, I croaked, “I’m sorry you’re stuck in here because of me.”
His hands stilled on my back. “Not your fault.”
Felt like it somehow was.
“And although the location isn’t ideal, the company . . . I couldn’t have wished for a better partner-in-crime.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
It took everything in me not to crane my neck and give him access to my heart again, but using him to feel something other than despair wouldn’t have been fair. “Forced together because of treason, then stuck together because of a mistake. What a pair we make.”
He didn’t answer, just held me a little tighter, and I melted into him a little harder.
25
The Return
Although we walked side by side, we kept to ourselves, both of us lost in thought. Several times, I felt his eyes on me but kept mine on the forest floor until the shadow of tangled branches and leaves receded.
When we reached the cliff where the golden cupola awaited, its door already propped open, Remo’s fingers rolled into stiff fists. I peered over the ledge to evaluate the feasibility of downclimbing the mountain. Too steep. Would wita-made rappelling gear be solid enough to carry us down?
Even though my understanding of Gregor’s prison was still limited, I didn’t doubt for a second the mountain was infused with dark and terrible magic. The rock would surely crumble beneath our boots or rise higher. After all, Remo’s grandfather loved nothing more than playing games.
“I fear the cage is our best option, Remo.”
His jaw was clenched as hard as his fists, and his skin tone had greened. “I’m not going back inside.”
“I’ll be with you this time. And we’ll keep the door open.”
He huffed. “What if I kill you again?”
“I won’t let you.”
He shook his head, his red hair spiking like a wildfire around his wan forehead. “That cage turned me into a psychopath.”
I wrapped my hand around his fist and dragged it away from his rigid thigh. Prying his fingers open, I said, “I know how to defeat the cupola.”
“No.”
I peered down again. “I suppose we could try to hang off of it . . .”
Remo’s gaze flicked to the pulley system. “We’ll climb down the rope.”
I eyed the rope, not trusting it. “I know!” I released his hand and pulled my dust out, shaping it into a parachute. I didn’t have enough wita to make a harness, but I had fashioned four sturdy handles along the sides. We’d have to hold on and hope it would keep us afloat, or at the very least slow down our fall.
Although my resourcefulness didn’t magically reassure Remo, it did unstiffen his body. He picked up my creation and stared a long moment at it, and then he handed me one side and took the other. “Thank you.”
“How about you don’t thank me until we make it down?” The moss seemed much too far below us. Even the calimbors seemed stunted and calimbors were not small trees. “Ready?”
“When you are.”
Knuckles whitening on my handles, I inhaled a deep, deep breath before nodding.
Eyes locked together, we jumped. The fabric flapped, and then it tangled and our bodies smacked together. Remo stretched his arms apart, and yelled at me to do the same. Skies only knew how, I managed to drive my arms apart. The fabric snapped, and we were yanked up so violently, both my shoulders almost popped out of their sockets.
Gravity took ahold of our makeshift vessel, and we drifted like a dandelion floret over the neat row of calimbors, all devoid of windows and doors, except for the one housing the candy shop. When my boots bumped against solid ground, my knees bent, and I stumbled into Remo, who caught me.
His hand lingered on my body long after I’d regained my footing, doing all sorts of things to my already chaotic insides.
Lowering my gaze to the moss, I stepped aside and reeled in the parachute. “Do we head to the train?”
“I think we should rest the night here and board in the morning.”
I stared up at the white sky. “You think night’s about to fall?”
“I don’t know how time works here. All I know is that we both could do with a bath and a warm bed.”
The warm bed part reminded me of the one I’d wanted to crawl into earlier. It also reminded me