“Start checking for traps. I’ll retrieve the pack.”
She was the one who finally found it, after five excruciatingly slow minutes that ended up with Naasir having to retie a wing brother who’d nearly escaped his bonds. In the ensuing scuffle, Naasir discovered the cave floor was a false one designed to collapse inward should the wing brothers activate the trap.
Depending on the depth of the fall, it would’ve surely broken any number of bones. That is, if the rockfall rigged to come down over the tunnel mouth didn’t bury them first.
“I’m starting to feel sorry for all the cave explorers,” Andromeda muttered, dusting off her arms after they stepped into the tunnel without setting off the booby trap, then deliberately collapsed the rockfall to impede pursuit by the wing brothers.
Alexander’s sentinels surely had other ways in but at least she and Naasir wouldn’t have to worry about danger at their backs—from that source at least. “I know they’ll come after us, but I hope the wing brothers don’t have to wait too long in the dark for rescue.”
“You have a soft heart,” Naasir said with an indulgent smile. “I’ll have to make sure people don’t take advantage of you.”
She should’ve scowled at him, but her heart turned to mush. He sounded so happy to have the task. And since he expected her to fight beside him, used her skills where necessary, it wasn’t as if he was being condescending. No, he was just being protective of the woman he wanted as his mate.
Her throat closed up, her face all stiff and hot. She was glad he’d turned his gaze forward and couldn’t see her. She should tell him she couldn’t be his mate, but the words kept getting stuck inside her, as if so long as she didn’t say them, they wouldn’t come true.
In front of her Naasir held up a hand. She halted.
But the wing brother had already spotted them. He gave a loud shout before they managed to subdue him. Pounding feet thundered in from several directions. Giving up on stealth, Andromeda and Naasir ran full-tilt, her wings getting badly bloodied and scraped in the narrow main passageway and Naasir’s hand locked tight around hers.
When he hauled her into a small cave and indicated another rigged rockfall he’d made sure they skirted, she took out her sword and triggered it. The rocks came down in a noisy crash that sent up clouds of dust.
Coughing into her hand, her teeth gritty from the dust she’d breathed in, she looked to Naasir. “Where?” He wouldn’t have asked her to trigger the rockfall if it would trap them; she knew enough of his senses to guess he’d seen, smelled, or heard something that had eluded her.
“This way.”
She followed the imprint of his footsteps in the sand to find herself in front of another tunnel with rough stone walls that pulsed with that eerie glow. Only this time, the tunnel had so steep a downward incline it was near vertical, the floor slick and shiny in comparison to the walls and the roof. “Damn it,” she muttered, sheathing her sword. “I’ll go first. You can come after me and push me down if my wings get stuck.”
Naasir shook his head. “No. I didn’t realize the sheer gradient from a distance. We’ll find another way out.”
Hearing sounds from the cave entrance that told her the rockfall blockade would soon no longer exist, she blew out a breath and tucked flyaway curls of her hair behind her ears. “No way to do that without killing a large number of wing brothers—don’t think they’re in the mood to talk anymore.”
“Your wings are already battered.” It was a growl, his hand lifting to very gently touch an undamaged part. “You could break something.”
A touch of her fingers to his jaw to reassure him. “It’ll heal.” Getting into the tunnel, she glanced once more at Naasir’s beloved face, tucked her wings in as tight as they could possibly go, and released her grip on the outer edges.
Feathers and skin ripped off as she barreled down, blood scenting the air. Fighting back tears at the stabbing pain of the damage on such sensitive skin, she tumbled out feetfirst into a sandy pit of some kind and forced herself to roll to one side at once.
The pack thudded home seconds later, Naasir landing in a crouch beside it.
Running to where she lay on her stomach on the sand, trying to breathe past the agony, he touched the back of her head and bent down to nuzzle at her. “We are almost there.”
Holding on to his affection, she got herself onto her hands and knees, then slowly sat up. She hadn’t been able to fight back the tears at the end and could feel sand sticking to the wetness, her breath coming in short hiccups. It would’ve humiliated her to be seen this way by others . . . but not Naasir.
Naasir would never even think of using her pain to cause emotional wounds.
Taking her face in his hands, he rubbed his nose over hers. “You’re very brave,” he said, silver eyes glowing in the darkness and fierce pride in his tone.
“So are you.” Her fingers trembled as she closed her hands around his wrists. “Alexander better not blast us after all this.”
A feral grin as he got to his feet and held out a hand to pull her up. Once she steadied, the ice and fire of the damage to her wings—as interpreted by her exposed nerve endings—no longer threatening to make her crumple, she looked around. They were at the bottom of a smooth stone bowl that appeared to have no exits, the sides so obviously sheer even Naasir’s claws would provide no purchase.
“I could fly up,” she said, because while her wings were badly damaged, they’d still hold her aloft. “Try to see if there’s an exit up top.”
Naasir shook his head, that vivid metallic hair shifting like liquid mercury even through the green-tinged vision of the goggles. “The sound isn’t right here.” Crouching down, he placed one hand on the sand, the other on his thigh, and cocked his head.
Andromeda stayed motionless, but used her eyes to scan everything in her field of vision. When Naasir changed position, she took the chance to turn so she could see the walls behind her.
Her eyes widened. “Naasir.”
“There is a way out of here,” he muttered, head still cocked. “I can hear it.”
Breaking position and the airflow, she ran over to the wall directly in front of her. “Do you see?”
Naasir came to join her. Leaning close, he ran his fingers over the thin lines dug into the stone. “It’s a fragment of a larger design.”
“Yes.” She backed off to the far wall. Parts of the design had been worn away, but she could still put it together. “A raven.” Created of myriad intricate images that represented this land. “Alexander’s chamber must be—”
The ground shook like a dog unwilling to release its prey.
Naasir hauled her into his arms as stone crumbled down around them . . . and then the ground was just gone and they were falling at a screaming pace.
“Snap out your wings!” Naasir yelled, his arms easing as if he’d release her.
She held on to him with a death grip. “I can’t! Something is sucking us down.” The pressure was intense, threatening to crush the small bones in her wings. Those bones were incredibly strong, designed as they were by nature to hold her aloft, but right now, she felt as if they were seconds away from buckling. “Don’t let go!”
“I won’t.” Silver hair blowing back from his face, he tried to turn his head to scan the area, but the wind pressure was too strong to permit the movement.
Andromeda suddenly felt the air growing warmer around them. Understanding drying her throat, she managed to bend her head enough that she could look down. The movement was possible only because Naasir had kind of bent over her in an effort to protect.
At first, she didn’t see anything and it was only then that she realized the goggles had been ripped off her face by the wind. But she’d been able to see Naasir . . . and it wasn’t because of the luminescence from the walls.
A molten red glow came slowly into view, growing hotter with every split second of their descent. “The lava pit,” she said, Naasir’s ear close enough that she knew he’d hear.