Page 75 of Deadwood
My steps barely faltered, but it was enough for him to reach a hand out to steady me, the ghost of his touch on my waist sending sparks through my limbs.
I opened my mouth to speak, but quickly shut it as a low rumble vibrated the ground, stronger than before, sending dust falling from the ceiling. All around us, chunks of rock began to rain down, barely missing us where we stood. Bowen grabbed my arm, and I had not a moment to breathe before he was pulling me to the ground and covering me with his body. My back hit the floor hard, knocking the air from my lugs, but his hand cradled my head, protecting it from the impact.
The sound of rocks crashing to the ground was the only thing filling my ears. Panic surged through me, and with each rock that hit Bowen, his stiff body flinched.
This was all my fault.
If we died—if he got injured—it was on me.
Maybe this was why I wasn’t allowed freedom. Why I wasn’t allowed to make my own decisions. Why I was kept locked away from everyone—so as not to bring them harm, too. I was reckless. Coming into this cave was injudicious.
“Auria.” Bowen’s voice filtered through my thoughts, and I realized my ears were ringing.
“Auria,” he said again.
I blinked away the dust coating my eyes, my vision blurry as I tried to focus on him hovering above me.
His hands roamed my body, but I barely felt it through the adrenaline coursing through me. “Are you hurt?” His face was in mine again, his hands now placed on the ground on either side of my head.
My head lolled to the side to find rocks everywhere. Close. Too close.
“Hey,” he murmured, setting a hand on my cheek and bringing my gaze back to him. “Eyes on me. Are you hurt?”
Had he always been this breathtaking? Or was it the panic that had closed my lungs?
“I think I’m okay,” I croaked. My nose and throat felt dry, like they were coated in chalk. At some point, he’d lowered my bandana. Or it had fallen in the chaos. I didn’t know. But he’d lowered his as well, and our noses were almost touching, our breaths mingling through the dust trying to settle.
“We need to be careful moving,” he said, examining the destruction around us. “The rocks could still shift.” His eyes landed on me again. “I’m going to get up now, okay?”
I nodded, and he shifted, pushing away from me. As soon as his body was off mine, I quickly missed his weight. Being vulnerable in an unstable cave wasn’t comforting in the least.
He held a hand out, and I took it. As he pulled me up, a rock slid down the wall, dust following in its wake. My grip on him tightened as I realized the lantern had been crushed, and the magic from the vial that had been tucked in the holder seeped out onto the cave floor. It was the only source of light we now had, but it wouldn’t last for long.
I reluctantly let his hand go as he surveyed the space. Rocks had fallen in a heap, covering the way we’d come, which meant our exit was blocked.
“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” I asked, my voice higher than normal.
He walked the few feet to the wall of rubble, searching for any weak points. “No.”
“Great,” I mumbled, though it wasn’t his fault. It was mine.
I crouched by the fire magic, watching it flicker and shimmer along the stone. A part of me hurt for the waste it had become in the destruction I’d brought upon it. It had had a task, and I had been trusted to use it, and yet it would die here. Because of me.
“Auria,” Bowen said, and I looked up to find him watching me. “We’re going to be okay.”
“A few feet back and we would’ve been crushed,” I pointed out quietly, my voice breaking.
He crossed the distance, kneeling beside me to study the magic. “We’re alive, and I’m going to make sure we stay that way.”
The magic flowed in a stream, coming closer to my boot. My fingers ached with the urge to reach for it. To build it back up again and give it the life it so needed. “You can’t be sure of that,” I whispered.
“They’ll figure out we’re stuck eventually. Raiden or one of the others will come looking. They can never seem to leave me alone for long.”
The ache built, running up my arm and pulsing at my muscles. “What if the light runs out before then?”
“It won’t,” he said confidently, standing.
“It will.” With the amount left, it’d survive maybe an hour.
