I fell to my knees as soon as we were on solid ground again as my tightly wound muscles gave way to uncontrollable trembling. I felt him remove my pack from me and then heard his footsteps walking away. With the solid ground safely beneath my feet again, I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything else. I crouched there, numb and shaking, ignoring the tears still falling down my face. He came back and picked me up from the ground. I felt bad for him having to carry me, but I was mostly just relieved to put more distance between that bridge and us. I opened my eyes finally to see where he was taking me. He walked into a shallow cave in the mountain and placed me on a pallet of blankets. He curled protectively around me, blocking my view of the bridge just past the cave’s entrance.
“Not much for heights, are you?” His voice rumbled above my ear and I started laughing.
I laughed because he was right, because of the absurdity, and because if I didn’t laugh at everything that’d happened since I’d boarded that stupid plane, I was going to cry. Again. He gave me a puzzled look but let me be hysterical.
I laughed until tears leaked from my eyes, bringing heaving sobs with them. I couldn’t stop. The possible loss of my family, the loss of my naïveté, and the eventual loss of him was overwhelming. I didn’t like crying, didn’t like to feel the vulnerability, and that just made me cry harder. I cried and he held me until I finally, blessedly, passed out.
I woke hungry, sore, and embarrassed. He was still curled around me, his hand making a lazy trek up and down my back. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was asleep. I lay there for a few minutes admiring him, thankful that I’d discovered such an amazing person. I smiled at the memory of our ride through the woods and shifted so as to better see his features in the dim light of the cave. He cracked open an eye at my movement, rewarding me with a small smile of his own.
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” I croaked out, trying not to look into the teal eyes two inches from mine. I was mortified at having ugly-cried in front of him. “I’m not usually so emotional. Do we have any water left? My throat feels like sandpaper.”
He kissed my nose and rolled me onto my back, still holding tightly to me so he was now on top of me. He reached over to his pack and pulled out a canteen, quickly rolling back over so I was on top of him. I sat, straddling him, drinking the water. He lay back, watching me.
“Amada, you never need to apologize for your tears. They are an expression of your feelings. I knew this would be a trying day, and you were amazing. With everything that has happened, I would have been surprised if you had not shed tears. I am pleased that Poseidon sent such a strong and wonderful woman here for me. I just wish that you did not have to leave. Are you feeling better now?” I’d finished drinking and was back in my favorite spot—pressed against his chest.
“Yes, I’m a little hungry, though. How long was I asleep? Did you eat yet?”
“Only for a few hours, and no I have not eaten yet. I did not want to disturb you. You needed the rest, we both did. We will eat now, and then we will have to head out. I am afraid you will like today’s adventure even less than yesterday’s.” He grimaced as he stood to gather supplies. He had been going to my pack for the food this entire time, and had yet to open his own. It made me curious as to what he was carrying in the heavy looking bag.
“Don’t tell me. More bridges?” I shuddered at the thought. I helped him get things prepared for the stew he was beginning to make.
“We are directly below Cleito’s castle. The only way to get there from here is either teleportation, or climbing. I cannot teleport both of us such a long distance, as that is not my gift, so we will have to climb.” He didn’t look at me while he talked; subconsciously knowing that he wouldn’t appreciate the glare I was giving him.
“Oh. I’ve never climbed the side of a mountain before. I should also tell you that I have this thing about heights.” He turned, raising his brow at me. “I don’t exactly like them.” He smiled at my belated confession.
“Really, I had not noticed,” he replied with a chuckle. “I have all of the equipment and can either buoy you to me like a backpack, or teach you how to climb, so you can climb with me. Either way, you will be near me and I will be happy.” I bristled at the thought of him carrying me up the side of the mountain like an infant.
I stormed (limped; riding a leopard came at a price) out of the cave, and away from his laughter, before my pride got me into trouble. As I took in the mountain we’d have to climb, I rethought my earlier objection to being carried. It was forever, straight up. I couldn’t even see a handhold to begin with, let alone how we’d climb the entire cliff-face. I walked back in with a more subdued attitude.
“I don’t want to be carried, but I honestly don’t know if I can do
