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“COME ON.” TRINITY RAN over to Curtis who was hidden by some boulders on the outskirts of the Mile of Fire.
“I don’t know about this.” Curtis’ face was red, glistening with sweat.
“We don’t have a choice,” she said.
The prison Guards weren’t following them yet, but it wouldn’t be long. On the roof, she’d looked for any other route but they’d all been blocked by either Guards or onlookers, camping out for tomorrow’s execution. She waved for her father and the others to hurry. Hugh was limping a little. His descent down the wall had been impressive for an Almighty but his landing had been rough. They had a long road ahead and he’d better be able to keep up because he was too valuable to leave behind.
As soon as they were all together, she headed toward the Mile of Fire. It grew hotter with every step and the air became acrid, burning her nose and throat. Sweat no longer trickled down her back; it was a full-blown downpour.
“Are you sure the rocks are cold?” asked Jackson.
“I never said cold. I said they shouldn’t burn us to crisps.”
“I’m pretty sure you said they wouldn’t burn us at all,” said Hugh. “I don’t recall the clarification of to a crisp.”
“Stop whining. You’re out of jail. You should be happy.” He was going to drive her crazy. The sooner he and Dad separated from them the better.
“I’ve been beaten, accused of treason and sentenced to execution without complaint but I’m whining because I don’t want to be burnt to something just a little less than crispy?”
“Yeah. You don’t hear anyone else complaining. Do you?” Good thing she had her back to him because she couldn’t keep the half-smile off her face. He had the irritating gift of being funny and annoying at the same time. She slowed down. She wasn’t ready for this, but here it was.
The Mile of Fire loomed ahead. Its shimmering waves of heat almost unbearable. The five of them were drenched in sweat, although the closer they got to the rocks the quicker the sweat was drying. Small puffs of steam were coming off her clothes. It was the same for the others. If they didn’t stop sweating they were going to be basted in their own juices. Of course, if they did stop sweating they’d be dried like old fruit left in the sun. They had to move fast.
“This way.” She dashed between two boulders. “Be careful. Watch where you touch.” The bigger rocks would burn the skin right off them.
As they traveled farther into the area, it was hard to move without breathing deeply, but if she did that she’d roast her lungs. She kept taking small, shallow breaths, hoping the others were doing the same.
She rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Fire blocked her path. She spun around and slammed into her father. She fell backward as Dad stumbled sideways. Her arms flailed, trying to catch her balance, but the impact had been too hard. The smell of burnt hair filled her nose as flames licked at her back. Her body twisted away from the heat but she couldn’t right herself. She was going to hit the fire and it was going to hurt. She cringed, bracing for the impact when a strong hand clasped onto her shirt, pulling her away from the fire. She fell against Hugh’s chest and he staggered backward, wrapping his arms around her. They were going to hit the ground. His body would shield her from the heat, but nothing would protect him. She needed to regain her balance and stop their descent, but Hugh’s grip was too tight for her to move and then, they stopped falling. Jackson’s hands were under Hugh’s arms, steadying him.
“That was close,” whispered Hugh against her cheek.
She was flush against him, her face almost even with his. They were both breathing heavy. She should thank him, but she couldn’t. He was too close. Too male. Too something. She shoved at his chest and he dropped his arms, letting her go.
Dad was helping Curtis to his feet. The young Guard’s leg and hands were burnt and blisters were already starting to form.
“What happened?” She moved over to them.
“He...he blocked my fall.” Dad’s eyes were wide. “I would’ve hit the rock with my face.”
“Can you walk?” She squatted, examining Curtis’ thigh. The blisters were quickly filling with fluid.
“A bit.” Curtis hobbled forward, grimacing in pain.
“We have to keep moving.” If they stayed still much longer they’d start on fire. She was already shaking each foot to keep the flames away.
“I got him.” Jackson wrapped his arm around the younger Guard.
She nodded and moved between two flaming boulders. They still had quite a distance to go and they’d have to move slower now. She wasn’t sure that they’d be able to make it with Curtis, but she wasn’t willing to leave him behind to roast to death either. They’d all accepted the fact that they might not make it out of this mission alive, but agreeing to it in the safety of a tent and facing it were two different things.
As they continued traveling through the rocks, the soles of her shoes were burning away. The others were having the same problem, judging by the way they shook their feet
“Tim,” Hugh gasped. “I hate to repeat myself, but your rescue sucks.”
“I’ll take a little heat over deformed creatures any day,” said Dad.
“A little heat.” Hugh coughed. “That’s like saying you’re only a little annoying.”
They continued to bicker. It was irritating but it helped to take her mind off the situation. Her breath was coming in shorter and shorter gasps, the air burning its way down her windpipe. It wasn’t much farther, but distances that seemed like nothing in the forest were an eternity in this fire pit. She stumbled to a halt, holding up her hand for the others to stop. Up ahead something moved. It was large with great puffs of steam floating around it.
“Looks like you’re wrong again, Tim,” whispered Hugh.
The creature raced toward them.
“Please tell me this is one of your friends.” Hugh tugged on her shirt, trying to pull her behind him.
She shook off his hand as the creature wrapped her in its arms and lifted her in the air.
“Gaar, thank Araldo you’re here. I don’t think we would’ve made it to our rendezvous point.” The seaweed surrounded her in a cool, damp blanket as she hugged the Handler.
“When I realized this place was hotter than we’d thought, I figured you could use some help.” Gaar dropped her to the ground and handed her a stack of seaweed from the pile attached to his back.
“Thanks.” She spun around, holding the river grass, which had been woven into cloaks, out to the others. “Put these on.”
Dad grabbed one and Jackson took two, wrapping one around Curtis and the other around himself.
“You could’ve told me it was Gaar.” Hugh snatched a pile of grass from her.
“Why? What difference would it have made?”
“For one, I wouldn’t have thought we were going to be eaten by some giant, grass creature.”
“Nothing could hunt or live in the Mile of Fire.” She slipped into her own cloak. It was damp and cool inside.
“You don’t know that. Not for sure.”
“Admit it. This isn’t such a bad backup plan after all.” She couldn’t keep the smugness out of her voice as she glanced at him. “They’re heavy but they’ll help keep the heat off of us.”
“Yeah, but how long before it dries and starts us on fire?” he asked.
“You’re never satisfied, are you?” She shook her foot to keep it from burning and then yanked a handful of sea grass from her cloak, wrapping it around her shoes.
The others watched, and then did the same.
“Little One, we need to go.” Gaar stomped out a flame that had started on his shoe.
She nodded and Gaar darted into the inferno. She raced after him, the others close behind her. The ground was literally on fire. Some of the patches were hard and covered with stones but others were sticky as if the rock, not being able to handle any more heat, had actually melted. That was the worst because it clung to her feet, tearing away the sea grass with each step.
Her heart pounded and she gasped for breath. The seaweed was drying. She was glad that she couldn’t see the superior look in Hugh’s eyes. She hated that he’d been right. Instead of puffs of steam, she was pretty sure it was smoke wafting off her. She kept her eyes on Gaar. He’d drop his cloak before it went up in flames. Of course, his coat was thicker. It had to be, he’d made two trips through this nightmare. She tripped over a small rock, stumbling forward. A strong hand, grasped her arm, steadying her.
It was an Almighty hand, of course. He’d saved her twice now. She needed to thank him, but she knew he’d use that opening to complain about their cloaks and what a bad rescue this was. Still, she owed him. She glanced over her shoulder, bracing herself for his smug look, but he wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was looking down.
“The ground. It’s no longer on fire.” His voice was a whisper of disbelief and hope.
He was right. It was still hot, waves of heat drifted off it, and a few rocks glowed red, but there were no flames. “Keep going. We’re almost there.”
Gaar was a good distance ahead of them.
“What about you?” Hugh didn’t move.
“I’ll catch up,” she said. Dad was helping Jackson drag Curtis along. The young Guard had passed out somewhere along the way.
Hugh followed her gaze. “You go. I’ll help them.”
“No. You’re an Almighty.”
“So, I deserve to get to safety first?” He leaned closer to her. “I didn’t realize you felt such reverence for my kind, or is it just me?”
“That’s not what I meant.” She jabbed him in the chest with her claw, but she was sure he didn’t feel it through the thick cloak. “I meant that you’re weak.”
The others stumbled up alongside them and he grabbed Curtis’ feet. “Stop arguing for once and come on.”
The three carried the young Guard, leaving her to trail after them.
Hugh glanced over his shoulder at her. “See, when you keep your mouth shut you can follow orders.”
“If you weren’t carrying Curtis...” She let the rest of the sentence die, because she wasn’t sure what she’d do, although removing his smirk with her claws was top on her list.
With each step the earth became cooler, eliminating the threat of their cloaks catching on fire. It wasn’t long before the rocks gave way to thin, stick-like trees. The males stumbled to a halt, gently placing Curtis on the ground. Gaar continued moving into the forest.
If Gaar wasn’t resting it wasn’t safe, but the others weren’t used to traveling with the Handler. “We have to keep moving. We’re not out of this yet.” She shoved Hugh in the back, pointing at Gaar up ahead.
“Okay. Stop poking me.” He shifted away from her claws and bent to grab Curtis’ legs again.
“I got his feet.” Jackson nudged him out of the way.
“Thanks,” said Hugh as he and Dad each took one of the young Guards’ arms.
They staggered into the woods after Gaar. She followed, hand on her knife and senses on alert. Out here, they had more than the Almightys and their Guards to worry about. There were other things, hungry things, waiting for an opportunity like this. Curtis was very, very vulnerable, but the three other males were too exhausted to move quietly. Predators relied on such carelessness, but hopefully, with Gaar in the lead and her in the back they’d catch anything that attacked before it was too late.
Gaar stopped in a clearing, flinging his cloak of seaweed into the waiting carriage. She gathered the cloaks from the others as the three males loaded Curtis into the back of the carriage.
“Gaar, I’ll drive,” said Jackson. “The Grunts don’t like you.” He followed Tim onto the top of the carriage.
“That’s because I eat them.” Gaar turned around, slapping Hugh on the shoulder and almost bringing the Almighty to his knees. “Glad to see your neck is still short.”
“Good to see you too,” said Hugh, rubbing his back.
Gaar laughed and climbed into the back of the carriage. She followed, kneeling to inspect Curtis’ wounds. The blisters on his leg were oozing blood. She touched his head and cheeks. He was hot from fever.
“How’s he doing?” asked Hugh as he hopped into the carriage and braced himself as it took off.
“Not good. He needs help.” She turned to Gaar who was staring out the window, head cocked to catch the sounds. Something was coming. “What is it?”
“Guards. A lot of them.” Gaar pounded on the roof.
“We know, we know,” shouted Dad as the carriage picked up pace.
“Curtis needs help.” She met Gaar’s black eyes. “You need to take him to my mother.”
“I’m not leaving you,” said Gaar.
“You have to. If infection sets in”—she smoothed the hair off the young Guard’s forehead and then looked back at Gaar—“he’s dead. You’re the only one who can carry him and still move fast enough to outrun the Guards.” She moved to the window and sat on the sill, leaning out. “I can’t see them yet, but you need to go soon.”
“Get back in here.” Hugh grasped at her arm, trying to pull her inside the carriage.
“Let go of me.” She put her foot on his thigh and shoved at the exact moment that the carriage hit a rut. She bounced on the sill, her legs flailing in the air as she tipped out the window. They were moving fast, if she fell...it’d hurt, a lot. She pulled herself up, grasping onto the windowsill as they hit another bump. The top half of her body fell backward, but her grip was good. She wouldn’t fall.
“I got you.” Hugh dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her thighs and trying to drag her back inside.
“I don’t need your help.” She braced one hand against the window and shoved him away with the other, slashing at his arms. “Don’t touch me again. Your fumbling is going to knock me out of the carriage.” No one had ever touched her like that. She could still feel the heat from his hands on her legs.
“Ouch! You little shit.” He dropped his hold and scooted away from her. He pushed up his sleeve, glaring at the four slashes across his arm. “That’s the last time I save you.”
“Save me? You almost killed me.” She slipped inside the carriage. “I was fine until you decided to help.”
“She doesn’t take orders well. Takes after Mirra.” Gaar’s black eyes sparkled with amusement.
“It’s not funny, Gaar. That idiot almost made me fall out of the carriage.”
“I did not.” Hugh stood up, looming over her. “I told you to get back inside. You’re the one—”
She turned her back on him and faced Gaar. “They’ll have to slow down. The forest is getting denser. You can jump to a branch. I doubt the Guards will look in the trees.” She knelt by Curtis. “We need to figure out how to hook him to you so that both your arms are free.” She pulled another backpack from a corner and searched inside of it. “Didn’t we bring more rope?”
“You and your dad packed the bags,” said Gaar.
“You can use the backpack straps.” Hugh snatched the sack from her. “I’ve done it before. It’ll work, but it won’t last forever.” He emptied the contents onto the floor. “We’ll need something to cut the straps. Give me—”
She bared her claws and sliced through the cloth.
“Shit, those are sharp.” He stared at her claws as she retracted them and then grabbed the seaweed cloaks. He tore off the parts that were the least damaged, hooking them with the straps and making a type of harness. He held it out toward Gaar. “Turn around.”
“No. My front.” Gaar stood, his bulk filling the small carriage. “I have to be able to grab him if he slips. We’ll be pretty high up in the trees.”
Hugh fastened the contraption around the Handler’s chest. Gaar held Curtis while he and Trinity hooked the young Guard into the harness.
“I hope it lasts long enough for us to get away.” Gaar tugged on the straps.
“Me too.” Hugh motioned at Gaar’s hands. “Don’t pull on it too hard or too much.”
The carriage started to slow.
“Little One, be careful. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut,” said Gaar.
Hugh laughed.
She glared at him. He could’ve tried to hide his amusement. She turned her back to him again. “I’ll be fine. You and Mirra taught me well.” This would be one of the few times that she’d be alone in the woods without the Handler or Tracker.
“I worry that you learned a little too much from Mirra. Think before you act. Always.”
“Mirra says the exact opposite.” She grinned up at him. “She says that I waste too much time thinking and planning.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Just like you.”
Gaar took her chin in his huge hand. “This isn’t a joke. I won’t be around to help you get out of any messes you make.”
“I’ll be careful.” Her smile slid away and her cheeks heated a bit. He didn’t have to mention that in front of the Almighty.
“I’ll watch her back,” said Hugh.
Her eyes locked with Gaar’s and they both laughed.
“I’m not as useless as all of you think.” Hugh’s tone was angry and hurt.
Gaar’s laughter died as the carriage slowed. “If we thought you were useless, you’d still be in prison.” He opened the door and stood at the edge. One jolt and the Handler would go flying, but he didn’t wait for a bump, instead he sprung forward, grasping a branch and in a blur of movement he was gone.