Solid arms lifted her as he clutched her to his sweat-slick chest.
“She’s…” Ellie groaned.
“She’s what, Princess?” Adam demanded.
“Broken,” Ellie replied.
She let her head fall against his skin. Her eyes drifted closed.
All of her was drifting. Only the feel of Adam’s chest against her cheek and the powerful strength of his arms kept her from floating away.
“That’s lovely,” Ellie sighed as she drifted deeper.
“Ellie,” Adam said. He deliberately jostled her. The shake snapped her slightly more awake.
“Hasss to be one of them,” she slurred. “Her or… maggot face… How can we…?”
“You’re passing out,” Adam declared.
“Ssssallright,” Ellie replied.
The world blurred into a swimming dance of color—bones and feathers, jaguar skin and jagged teeth.
“Ah, to hell with it,” Adam muttered from somewhere above her.
His body swayed awkwardly as he lifted up one of his feet and stomped down on the lever.
A louder clank sounded from within the walls. Ellie had the vague sense of something benevolent and grotesque moving past her. It reminded her of the shadow of a great wing.
“Thank Christ,” Adam coughed. He clung to Ellie as he shoved his back against an enormous, looming object, which moved aside on a well-oiled pivot.
Cool air blasted over her face. Ellie gasped it in as Adam staggered forward. He collapsed awkwardly to a knee, and then to the ground. He leaned back against a wall, letting Ellie fall into his lap.
Her vision slowly cleared. Adam’s head had dropped back against the stone. Only the silhouette of his face was visible in the dim torchlight that carried through to them from the other chamber.
She looked past him to see an open doorway cut into the rock. A figure loomed on the far side of it. It was the skull-faced woman, who had swung free of the exit that she had been concealing behind all of her deathly elegance.
Ellie swallowed thickly. Her throat was dry.
“How… How did you know which one it was?” she asked.
“No idea,” Adam replied without opening his eyes. “Just guessed.”
Horrified alarm made Ellie sit up straighter in his lap.
“Youguessed?”
“Figured a fifty-fifty shot was better than getting cooked.” He cracked a tired eye at her as his mouth pulled into an approximation of his usual roguish smile.
“What if you had guessed wrong?” Ellie pressed, aghast.
“Would’ve cooked us a little faster.” Adam shrugged.
She gaped up at him. “You’re unbelievable,” she said.
He was definitely smiling at her.
“Thanks.” His expression sobered a bit. “Looks like this ritual of yours is meant to kill whoever gets it wrong.”