Page 60 of Lover from the Waves

Before he gave in to his own panic.

But this wasn’t the sort of situation he had experience dealing with. Nothing like this would’ve happened to his people; in the sea, she could’ve simply swum up.

This is a simple problem. It must have a simple solution.

She couldn’t swim up, couldn’t climb up, so he needed to pull her up.

Ector ran his gaze around the interior of the hole again, studying every detail without focusing on any one in particular until his eyes stopped on one of the long, dangling roots hanging over the edge of the stone.

He understood in that moment what he needed to do, and it simultaneously filled him with a burst of hope and wrapped cold dread around his hearts. “There is rope in the boat, is there not?” he asked.

Kathryn smiled, and hope—the same hope he felt—shone upon her face. “Yes!”

The last thing Ector wanted to do was leave her here alone, but he didn’t have a choice. Even if he managed to piece together enough of the long roots and vines to reach her, he didn’t trust them to hold her securely, and she’d already been fortunate not to have been injured during the fall. He couldn’t risk her falling again.

“Will you be all right while I get it, Kathryn?” This time, he was unable to keep his voice steady; it was rough, raw, and strained.

“I’ll be fine. And I don’t plan on going anywhere until you get back.”

Ector admired her effort to keep her tone light; it was a display of that inner strength he’d come to admire so much.

“I will return as swiftly as possible.” He longed to sayI love you, but it seemed too much like an admission that this could go wrong, that he would somehow fail. That was unacceptable.

“I know,” Kathryn called.

He let his eyes linger on her for a second before he forced himself to turn away. He didn’t allow the urgency blazing through his veins to hasten his ascent of the slope that led back to the path; speed was his enemy in that endeavor. But once he’d hauled himself up and was back on that trail, he hurried along it, uncaring for how much noise he made in his passage. Branches and thorns tore at his flesh, but he was beyond pain.

Ector crashed through the jungle with only one thought in mind—save Kathryn.

By the time he reached the boat, his breath was ragged, and his lungs and throat were burning. But he did not allow himself to slow; he snatched up the coiled rope stowed beneath the bench, turned away, and raced back the way he’d come. His path through the jungle was easy to retrace—his passage had flattened enough vegetation for even Ector, inexperienced as he was at tracking on land, to follow it exactly.

By the time he was making his way down the little decline to the edge of the hole, the only sound he could hear was the thundering of his own hearts and the sawing of his breath. He anchored himself on the same tree as before and leaned forward, peering down into the water.

Kathryn was still in the same spot, sunlight brightening her silver hair. She looked up at him, and despite the distance, he saw the vulnerability and fear in her eyes before she could hide it.

“I am going to lower the rope,” he called. He took one end of the rope and wrapped it around his hand securely before tossing the still-coiled bundle over the edge. Once it was uncoiled, he grasped it with is other hand as well.

She swam toward the dangling end of the rope and stopped directly beneath it. “It’s too high, Ector. Two meters short, at least.”

“No,” he rasped. Tightening his tentacles around the tree trunk, he leaned his torso forward—past the edge. He found himself looking directly down at her, and Kathryn’s eyes were wider than ever. He extended his arms, stretching every part of his body toward her, making his joints ache and his muscles burn. Forced to accept more and more of his weight, his tentacles screamed in protest.

“It’s still too high,” she said. Debris and bits of rock rained down around her as the ground crumbled beneath Ector’s tentacles. “Ector, get back!”

Gritting his teeth, he strained farther out over the edge. It didn’t matter if his other tentacles were losing purchase; he had his anchor, and the ropehadto reach her.

But when the tree trunk he was holding creaked and produced a muted crack, Ector knew he was being a fool. The cords on his neck stood out as he flexed his abdominal muscles and lifted his torso away from the edge, shifting his center of gravity backward and gradually easing the strain on his tentacles—and the tree. He forced himself to breath slowly and evenly.

On top of the other aches and pains that he’d awoken in his body, his jaw throbbed from clenching his teeth so tightly.

Panic danced along the edges of his mind, threatening to push him toward acting in desperation, toward doing something stupid. Kathryn was hismate. And he’d failed her. His tentacles writhed around him, his breathing quickened, and his hearts pounded in fear for her.

“Ector?”

Ector closed his eyes. “I am here, Kathryn.”

And my presence is doing you no good.

“You can take down the rigging on the boat for more rope. If you tie it to this one, it should be more than enough to reach.”

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