Page 32 of Scot of Desire
“Ye have tae come this way. Please, take me hand, and I willnae let ye fall.”
“I cannae. I cannae move!” Malc screamed, his voice piercing the air.
Ilyssa looked about her, searching for another way to get him off the ice. She could see where the boy stood the ice was thin, for it was toward the middle of the lake, but the stretch directly in front of her still looked frozen and thick. Inhaling deeply, she held her breath and took one step out onto the ice.
The boys behind her all jumped back in fear. They whispered manically between them, but Ilyssa didn’t pay enough attention to listen to what they were saying. She was purely focused on the boy and how to get him to safety.
“Malc, I’m going tae come and get ye, aye?” she said, moving both feet out onto the ice.
She didn’t hear a crack, but she could have sworn the ice shifted beneath her.
“We will have tae be quick. As soon as ye can reach me hand, ye take it, aye?” she pleaded.
The boy nodded, though he could not speak. He loosened his arms from around his body and reached back toward her.
Ilyssa took another step out. This time, the crack was soft. Knowing she didn’t have much time, she took another step, quicker this time. The next crack was ominously loud.
“Nay, nay, come back,” one of the boys shouted.
“They’ll both die.”
“Nay one is dying,” Ilyssa insisted over her shoulder, then stopped where she was. Beneath her, the ice looked at least white, but where the boy was, it was increasingly translucent. His boots were even wet with the growing water. “Take me hand now, Malc. Take it, and let’s get ye out of here.”
Malc reached toward her. He still didn’t move his feet, too terrified to shift an inch. He just stretched as far as he could, the muscles in his neck straining with the movement.
Ilyssa reached to him, her fingertips brushing his. She couldn’t quite get hold of him.
I cannae let this boy go now.
As she looked at him, and saw that mop of blond hair, another boy entered her mind. She saw Bran when he was just a young boy, saving her, protecting her constantly.
Ilyssa took another step toward the boy and grasped a firm hold of his hand.
“I’ve got ye.” Yet as she spoke the ice cracked loudly beneath her.
A chorus of boys screamed and bellowed behind her as she took a firm hold of the boy’s wrist and dragged him forward. The ice was cracking fast beneath her. She pushed her feet outward, trying to stay stable, but the heel of her boot pierced the ice. She just had time to take a step forward, thrusting the boy in the back so that he ran across the ice toward firm ground. Any attempt she made to run after him was lost – one step, and her boot fell straight through the ice into water.
She couldn’t hear the boys’ screamed words though she heard the piercing noise as she plunged into the water, her body sheathed in its icy depths.
“Help! Help!” boys were screaming.
Bran narrowly dodged the next thrust of Cillian’s blade as he and Tad looked around at one another, listening to the screams.
“Help!” This next shout was so loud, there could be no doubt that the bearer of that voice was truly terrified.
Bran kicked out at Cillian, managing to trip him up – Cillian fell back onto his rear, dropping the sword, giving Bran the time heneeded to run and investigate. Tad ran alongside him but was slower. Bran streaked ahead of him, reaching the garden wall and looked out to the cracked ice where he saw Ilyssa’s head. She was trying her best to swim toward the edge, but each time she attempted to pull her body back over the icy edges of the loch, she slipped back down again. A gaggle of boys on the loch shore were screaming for her, reaching out toward her, though their arms were too short to touch her.
“Ilyssa!” Tad bellowed her name as he reached Bran’s side, but Bran was already running again. He tossed his sword to the side and jumped down the garden wall to the loch shore. He ran to the boys’ sides who all leapt away, avoiding him.
Bran jumped across the ice, his greater weight cracking it in many places. He jumped in, not even hesitating in his decision.
The iciness of the water cut him like a blade. It was as if someone had rammed a blade made of ice into his lungs and stopped him from breathing.
“B-Bran?” He heard Ilyssa’s shivering whisper come from nearby. She was spluttering against the edge of the ice, her arms too cold and weak to pull her body over the slippery edge.
“I’ve got ye,” he whispered, forcing his body to swim through the cold. He wrapped an arm around her waist and levered her up onto the ice. It was hard work – the heaviness of the water had caught in her gown and was dragging her down like reeds. She strained to help, her hands clawing at the thickened ice.
Tad was suddenly there. He leaned out from across the lakeshore, trying to take hold of Ilyssa’s hand. His fingers managed to catch her very fingertips, then he grabbed and pulled hard, just as Bran made one last shove to dislodge her from the water.
