Page 92 of Beyond the Cottage

He’d nearly puked after disembarking from the crane, so he wasn’t about to let her see him squirm over a staircase. He gave her a tight nod.

As they descended, he contemplated the way she’d smoothed her hand over his back when he’d been about to retch. He could still feel her palm on his spine, still felt warmth where she’d touched him. But what the hell did it mean? After their disastrous morning, he couldn’t reconcile her offer of comfort.

Whatever Gretta’s motivations, he’d be a fool to try to interpret them. He may as well read a book in a language he didn’t speak.

Halfway down the cliff side, the robbers disappeared into a dim tunnel lit by torches. Ansel and Gretta remained outside. Awave crashed, spraying cold droplets on the stairs, and Gretta went stiff, her fingers digging into the railing.

The tunnel looked stable enough, but it was low and narrow. Ansel suspected she wouldn’t handle her fear of confined spaces as easily as she did madcap train robbers. He buried the impulse to carry her through in his arms.

“It’s pretty cramped,” she said.

“Yes, but it doesn’t look deep.”

“What if their whole hideout is like this?”

“Don’t you think we should find out?”

She reluctantly nodded and took a step.

Then stopped.

Ansel squeezed his nape. She’d asked him to leave her alone, but one might call this extenuating circumstances. Anyway, they could hardly spend the entire day on the deathtrap of a staircase.

“You can do this,” he said. “And if it gets to be too much, we’ll camp on the bluff.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but you have to try first.”

She sighed heavily, but it came with a firmer nod. They entered the cave, and Ansel stayed close behind her.

“Come on,” Lil called. “We’ll have you snug and fed in no time.”

The tunnel widened as they went on, and Gretta’s steps became surer.

“Who are these people?” Ansel asked to distract her.

“Nereids. Water folk.”

He’d never heard of them. By all indications, they were an aggressive, warlike people, and his protective instincts were sure to be tested.

When the tunnel ended, Lil led them into a yawning stone cavern with a high ceiling and wide ventilation shafts. Gretta’s shoulders relaxed.

“Comfy, right?” Lil asked.

It was, actually. Thick rugs and colorful lanterns kept it from feeling like a cave. A huge fireplace warmed the space, and overstuffed cushions lay scattered about, heaped in piles surrounding knee-high tables.

A smattering of people with long, pastel hair occupied the room. Several had flowers woven into their braids, and their skin tones matched their hair colors. Rather than armor, they wore draped white clothing, and they appeared to be working on craft projects. There wasn’t a weapon in sight. A few offered friendly smiles, and Ansel’s tension eased somewhat.

A pretty young woman with sea foam curls hopped up to help Lil remove her armor. Others came to help the rest of the gang divest.

“What did you bring us today, Waterlily?” the woman asked, peeling away the breastplate. Underneath it, Lil wore a short, diaphanous garment that resembled a nightgown more than a dress.

“Only company this time,” Lil said. “The little one there is going to take care of our problem across the lake.”

Wide aqua eyes turned to Gretta. “You’re going to find Cattail for us?”

“I’ll…try.”

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