Guardian had found her.
“We want to be very quiet,” he said faintly, “very cautious not to dislodge a stone.”
She nodded. She was not about to say another word.
She could see a dim red light now, moving slowly toward her from far away, casting its feeble illumination on a narrow path cut into a sheer cliff.
Of course. The way to the heart of the earth would always be challenging.
Who made up these stupid rules?
Now he started across the bridge toward her—the really narrow stone bridge that groaned under his weight. She felt the rock shift under her feet, and moaned softly in terror.
He moved even more slowly.
She couldn’t see him, only the hand holding the flashlight with the red filter.
Red for improved night vision, of course, and possibly to be healthier on her eyes. But better safe than sorry.
The bridge groaned again, as if protesting his weight.
The light stopped.
In that low, soft voice he said, “This won’t support me. You’ll have to come here.”
“Okay.” In an abstract corner of her mind, she noted that she sounded a little squeaky.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“No.” Still squeaky.
“That’s good.” He spoke so soothingly, she knew he was worried.
But she
wasn’t
afraid of heights. Not normal heights. But heights above a bottomless chasm in a midnight dark cave in the middle of the earth—well, that was a different story.
He shone his flashlight slowly across the bridge, giving her a sense of where she must step.
The way was narrow, the darkness beyond bleak, and every step was littered with pebbles and slippery, broken stones. She edged forward, each movement an agony of fear . . . and all the way, she fought the demand of the earth to come the other way, into the harsh unknown.
Guardian spoke softly, constantly encouraging her, and she concentrated on him, used him to block out the increasingly strident call of the earth.
At last she took the step that took her off the bridge and onto solid ground.
As she did, the stone cracked.
Her foot slipped.
Guardian grabbed her, saved her from the chasm.
The bridge broke.
In a mighty roar, boulders poured into the gap.
He pulled her into his arms, and she clung to him, burying her face in his fur. He backed away from the cataclysm, keeping her close, protecting her as the stone continued to crumble beneath their feet.
At last the tumult died.
They halted, panting.
She thought she felt his hand touch her hair. “Very bravely done,” he said. “But I think we must not linger. I’ve never been here before, but nothing about this place is safe.”
“No kidding.” Her voice had returned to normal, if normal meant it wobbled only a little.
He placed her in front of him and guided her with his light. “How are your eyes?”
“No problems so far.”
“Good.” He sounded so pleased. So relieved. “You’ve had time to heal. If . . . if they continue to be well, I could show you my cave. It is more hospitable than this place.”
“I would like that. Let’s get out of here.” She was feeling more like herself every moment.
Maybe because he kept his arms around her and walked close behind her, and this felt like . . . protection.
Chapter 13
G uardian and Charisma climbed out of the depths, and as they did, he marveled that she had come so far on her own, through a night so dark even he had been blind much of the time. Something had taken her into the hidden parts of the earth, something that frightened and appalled her. Yet for all that he’d known this woman for such a little time, he knew she would stand up against any fear, and face it straight on.
He could learn a few things from her . . . perhaps if he did, the fact that she was soon going to see him in all his beastly glory wouldn’t worry him.
Yes, he could face down a hundred demons without a quiver—but one small woman made him tremble.
He sighed.
“What?” she asked. “Did I take you away from something
“We want to be very quiet,” he said faintly, “very cautious not to dislodge a stone.”
She nodded. She was not about to say another word.
She could see a dim red light now, moving slowly toward her from far away, casting its feeble illumination on a narrow path cut into a sheer cliff.
Of course. The way to the heart of the earth would always be challenging.
Who made up these stupid rules?
Now he started across the bridge toward her—the really narrow stone bridge that groaned under his weight. She felt the rock shift under her feet, and moaned softly in terror.
He moved even more slowly.
She couldn’t see him, only the hand holding the flashlight with the red filter.
Red for improved night vision, of course, and possibly to be healthier on her eyes. But better safe than sorry.
The bridge groaned again, as if protesting his weight.
The light stopped.
In that low, soft voice he said, “This won’t support me. You’ll have to come here.”
“Okay.” In an abstract corner of her mind, she noted that she sounded a little squeaky.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“No.” Still squeaky.
“That’s good.” He spoke so soothingly, she knew he was worried.
But she
wasn’t
afraid of heights. Not normal heights. But heights above a bottomless chasm in a midnight dark cave in the middle of the earth—well, that was a different story.
He shone his flashlight slowly across the bridge, giving her a sense of where she must step.
The way was narrow, the darkness beyond bleak, and every step was littered with pebbles and slippery, broken stones. She edged forward, each movement an agony of fear . . . and all the way, she fought the demand of the earth to come the other way, into the harsh unknown.
Guardian spoke softly, constantly encouraging her, and she concentrated on him, used him to block out the increasingly strident call of the earth.
At last she took the step that took her off the bridge and onto solid ground.
As she did, the stone cracked.
Her foot slipped.
Guardian grabbed her, saved her from the chasm.
The bridge broke.
In a mighty roar, boulders poured into the gap.
He pulled her into his arms, and she clung to him, burying her face in his fur. He backed away from the cataclysm, keeping her close, protecting her as the stone continued to crumble beneath their feet.
At last the tumult died.
They halted, panting.
She thought she felt his hand touch her hair. “Very bravely done,” he said. “But I think we must not linger. I’ve never been here before, but nothing about this place is safe.”
“No kidding.” Her voice had returned to normal, if normal meant it wobbled only a little.
He placed her in front of him and guided her with his light. “How are your eyes?”
“No problems so far.”
“Good.” He sounded so pleased. So relieved. “You’ve had time to heal. If . . . if they continue to be well, I could show you my cave. It is more hospitable than this place.”
“I would like that. Let’s get out of here.” She was feeling more like herself every moment.
Maybe because he kept his arms around her and walked close behind her, and this felt like . . . protection.
Chapter 13
G uardian and Charisma climbed out of the depths, and as they did, he marveled that she had come so far on her own, through a night so dark even he had been blind much of the time. Something had taken her into the hidden parts of the earth, something that frightened and appalled her. Yet for all that he’d known this woman for such a little time, he knew she would stand up against any fear, and face it straight on.
He could learn a few things from her . . . perhaps if he did, the fact that she was soon going to see him in all his beastly glory wouldn’t worry him.
Yes, he could face down a hundred demons without a quiver—but one small woman made him tremble.
He sighed.
“What?” she asked. “Did I take you away from something
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