Stolen - Nhys Glover Page 0,30

and I was sure I could trust him. Not that I had much choice. It was him or the witches.

He tore at the offending stick and I muffled a cry of pain as the thing dug deeper into my back for a moment before giving way.

“Sorry,” he muttered, as he moved back to begin pulling again.

On and on the worm-slow progress went.

Finally, the male, a tall being who seemed fairly human, had me under the armpits and was dragging me free. My back and legs burned from scratches, but the sudden freedom was better than almost anything I could remember. Not as good as Rian’s kiss, but close.

As we lay on the ground for several long seconds, I clung to my savior while he clutched me close. But the celebration had to be cut short. The winds had begun to stir around us, and chanting had started up nearby. It reminded me of horror movies where satanic rituals were performed in shadowy caverns. But it wasn’t Latin they were intoning.

The man drew me up until I was standing on legs that seemed too weak to carry my weight. He expected me to run. I’d give it my all. But when we turned away from the village and began making our way into the darkness, I felt my legs give out.

My rescuer realized what was happening the moment before I fell. Scooping me up close to his long, slim body, he wrapped an arm around my waist and he began running with me pressed to his side. My legs did little more than touch earth every few steps. They did nothing to aid my progress.

He was panting and gasping after only about twenty strides. But they were long strides, his legs almost twice as long as my own. I could feel the sweat dampening his clothing. I could smell it. The scent was oddly appealing.

The chanting was growing softer. Because we were moving further away, I hoped. I couldn’t see a thing, but my rescuer kept up his steady steps, his muscles taut, his labored breaths worrying. How much further could he go without a rest? This was no Danan, who could carry me like a baby while he whizzed along dark tunnels. My hero was a weakling like me.

Finally, the sounds behind us faded away completely. Maybe they were drowned out by the wind that was rushing about us, whipping up the dusty ground and filling my eyes with grit.

Suddenly we dropped to the ground. Had he run out of energy? Surely we weren’t far enough away to be safe.

“Give me a minute,” he gasped, pulling away from me and disappearing into the darkness.

Fear clawed at me yet again. He wouldn’t just leave me here, would he? I hadn’t helped myself, that was true. But surely I wasn’t such a burden?

Before I got the chance to work myself up, he was back, lifting me into his arms again and carrying me a few more steps to the right. Now I saw the sheer cliffs ahead of us.

No, seeing was too liberal a word for what was happening. I made out a hulking shadow looming darker than the other shadows in the cloud-covered night. I only assumed the shadow was the cliffs I’d seen that morning during my escape attempt.

Those cliffs had been miles high. Surely he didn’t expect me to climb them in my state? In any state. Rock climbing had never been a sport I’d ever wanted to try.

But within moments, we were at the cliff and I was being dropped again. He moved a little way away, and then returned a second later carrying something. A harness! He was fitting me with a harness.

A small light appeared, illuminating his hand. Long, elegant fingers moved across the lit surface and the harness began to tighten around me and… God, I was being lifted. No, we were being lifted!

I fought back a yelp of surprise, and clung on to my rescuer. He seemed to be wearing a harness too. We were connected in the way I’d seen rescue-workers secure climbers before they were plucked off a cliff by a helicopter.

But there was no helicopter here. Only a plastic-like rope drawing us upward.

We bounced and banged into the rocks a couple of times before my rescuer repositioned himself and began using his legs to climb up the cliff. His long legs kept me from being bashed again as the winch drew us further and further upward.

The higher we went, the worse