Page 101 of Cottage in the Mist
He reached out a hand, but as he did so the floor in front him collapsed, crashing to the ground below. One moment he was looking into her eyes and the next, she was gone.
Bram reached for her and then there was a cracking noise, the fire whooshing across the bed linens. For a minute Lily felt as if she were suspended above hell itself. Then the bed tipped and she lurched with it, the bedpost careening like a broken mast in the face of a hurricane. The hole in the floor yawned beneath her and then she was falling, fiery debris raining down on her asthe burning rushes below signaled the looming stone floor of the great room.
She opened her mouth to scream, but was jerked suddenly so hard her arms felt as if they’d been pulled from the sockets, her wrists slamming into the bedpost as it jammed across the open hole. Below her, flames swallowed tapestries and tables, men still fighting, the clamor of swords filling the smoky air. She hung above the melee like some macabre chandelier, her heart threatening to break free of her chest as she twirled slowly back and forth.
“Lily.Mo ghràidh, can you hear me?”
She tipped her head up to meet Bram’s ice-blue gaze. “I’m here.” Her voice came out barely more than a whisper.
“Hang on now, love, I’m coming.” He leaned down through the hole, flames licking through one side. But before he could do anything, another face appeared—along with a hand holding a knife.
Malcolm.
“Wouldn’t it be a shame if all your heroics were for nothing, nephew?” He leaned through the hole, the knife just above the ropes that held her hands, binding her to the bedpost.
Bram roared into action, his anger a palpable living thing. Both faces disappeared and then the floor above her split further, and Malcolm came hurtling through the hole, his face contorted with fear. Lily screamed, closing her eyes at the thwack of Malcolm’s body as it crashed to the stone floor below. The sound was punctuated by the crack of the bedpost as it slipped in its mooring, sending her spinning around at a dizzying angle.
“Lily, are you all right?” Bram’s head reappeared, although he too seemed to be spinning.
Lily fought to pull herself together. “I’m okay.” Fire shot in earnest out of the left side of the hole above. And she felt panicrising. “The fire, Bram. It’s going to burn the floor holding the bedpost.”
“Dinna fash yourself, I’ll handle the wee fire.”
She swallowed a bubble of hysteria, shooting a glance at the raging flames. “Wee fire?”
His grin shot straight to her heart, and she struggled for courage. “Ach, to be sure I’ve seen worse.” He withdrew his head, and she heard the sound of something thumping and then the flames disappeared. Her arms screamed in agony, but she fought for composure. She needed to remain calm.
“All right then, that’s the fire.” His head appeared again in the gaping hole. And after an awful crash, Ranald’s face appeared as well.
“Looks like you’ve managed to deal with your uncle,” he quipped, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. Lily swallowed and risked a look downward at the mangled body on the floor beneath her. There were still men fighting, unaware that she dangled over their heads, and clearly without care for the dead man on the floor.
“’Twill be all right,mo ghràidh. I promise you.” His words reached into her heart, giving her courage, and she smiled up at him. “Right, then,” he said. “Here is what we’re going to do.” He leaned down until his shoulders and arms were free of the hole. Then Ranald moved until his arms too were extended, Malcolm’s knife in his hand. “On my count you’re going to swing yourself up toward me. I’m going to catch you and pull you up while Ranald cuts the rope. It’ll probably hurt like bloody hell, but if I untie you first, you’ll fall.”
Great, she was going to have to pull off a move worthy of freakin’ Cirque du Soleil. She shot a glance again at the scene below and sighed. She supposed it beat the alternative. She lifted her gaze back to Bram’s.
“Can you manage, do you think?”
She nodded and shot him another smile, already beginning to rock her body back and forth, building momentum.
“That’s my girl. On three.” He nodded at Ranald, his gaze still locked with hers, arms extended. “One. Two. Three…”
She swung harder, arms screaming in agony as she let her body’s own momentum carry her higher and then higher still. Just a few more inches. Splinters from the bedpost stabbed into her wrists, the ropes cutting deep into her skin.
“Aye that’s it, Lily. Just a little bit more.”
Gritting her teeth and using her knees to propel herself higher, she felt his fingers close around her thighs. For a moment, she felt weightless as the pressure from her wrists eased, and then Bram yanked her toward him as Ranald cut the rope free from her wrist. Her skin scraped against the jagged edges of bedpost and then she was in Bram’s arms, tumbling backward against unbroken floor.
Pain stabbed through her arms and shoulders again, but the only thing she could truly feel was the driving beat of his heart beneath hers. “I’ve got you now,mo ghràidh. I’ve got you.”
His hands stroked her hair as he held her close, his breath soothing as he pressed a kiss against her brow.
“Bram.” Ranald’s voice cut into the moment, his urgency unmistakable. “The fire up here, ’tis out of control. We’ve got to get out of here. Now.”
Bram was on his feet in an instant, pulling her up into his arms. As he lifted her higher against his chest, she saw a burst of flame and more of the floor disintegrated into ash, falling into the great room below. The walls themselves were on fire now, or at least the tapestries that had covered them. Flames and smoke curled everywhere, choking them. Bram pulled his plaid around them, cradling her close. “Turn your face into my chest. Keep your breathing shallow.”
He turned to follow Ranald as they pushed their way from the room, jumping over more falling timbers and gaping holes. The hall beyond was also on fire. Lily buried her nose against the linen of Bram’s shirt, coughing as the acrid smoke seeped into her lungs. The heat had become almost unbearable. At the opening to the stairs, Iain beckoned them.
“Alec and Jeff?” Bram called out.
