“I’m distracting ya so ya quit struggling,” he said. “I’m going to get as close as I can and pull ya out with this branch. There is no way to tell how big this sinkhole thing is.”
Jim barked again.
“What branch?” Jennifer asked. “I can’t see it.”
“Stay back, little buddy,” Rory ordered. She heard a stick whack on the ground behind her.
“Can’t you just magick me out?” she asked. The bog became colder the deeper she went.
“I don’t want to alarm ya, but my magick is not working at the moment.” Rory whacked the ground again, coming closer.
Was she mistaken, or did she detect fear in his voice?
Jim barked again and bounded toward Jennifer.
“No, Jim, bad dog! Sit,” she yelled, trying to scare him back.
Jim’s paws dented the ground as he neared her. His curious expression said he didn’t understand (or care about) the command.
“Rory, get ready for Jim!” Jennifer held out her hands as the puppy approached. The second she touched fur, she grabbed Jim by the waist and lifted him from the mud. She tried to twist her body and lightly tossed him toward Rory and out of harm’s way. The dog landed safely, but unfortunately, the movement tilted her back, and she sank deeper. Her left hip was sucked under, and soon her side followed. She tried to keep her hand up, but her arm and shoulder were next to go under.
“Rory?” Jennifer felt tears streaming hot across her temple. “Any time now.”
“Grab the stick,” Rory ordered.
She had thought being held prisoner in a petrifying spell would be the worst feeling of her life but being sucked into a grave was worse. Much worse.
Jennifer reached as Rory thrust a stick in her direction. She grabbed hold with both hands, ready to be pulled to safety.
“I got ya, love,” Rory said. “Don’t let go.”
Jennifer held on tight. She felt her body coming out of the bog. “It’s work—”
Another force countered Rory’s rescue, and in the span of one breath, the earth engulfed her completely. She heard Rory yell for her. The stick ripped from her hands, and her head became encased in thick darkness. The sound of her frantic heartbeat thumped in her ears.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Jennifer tried pushing her arms to swim toward the surface, but the mud was too thick. Her lungs begged for air, warring with her tight lips as they tried to keep out the peat. Any moment, the lungs would win, and on reflex, she’d try with her last seconds to breathe.
Rory flew back as Jennifer released the stick. He landed hard on the ground. Jim ran up to him, ready to play.
Rory kept the puppy from climbing onto his stomach and pushed up from the ground. Without concern for his own safety, he leaped close to where Jennifer had disappeared. The bog caught his legs, but he didn’t care as he reached into the disrupted surface. If she died, he died. There was no living without her.
“Take me, Jenny Greentooth,” Rory yelled. “Not her. Take me. I’m the one ya want!”
He dug into the bog, flinging layers aside before finally punching his hand into the depths. His legs sunk deeper. Jim barked.
“Back, Jim,” Rory ordered. He flung his dirty hand out of habit, trying to keep the dog safe, but his magick was useless. The puppy ran toward him, but he didn’t sink into the mud, just like the child that had pushed him down all those centuries ago.
Pieces of the memory came back to him as he desperately searched for Jennifer. He’d been here before, helpless in the bog as a woman drowned in the mud.
Before, it had been a stranger. This was Jennifer. He could not lose her.
Not his Jennifer.
“Take me, Jenny, take me,” he begged. “I’m the one you’ve been after.”
Rory sank lower. Jennifer would not be able to hold her breath much longer. He was running out of time.
“Take me. Take me. Take me.”
Rory screamed in frustration as he reached deeper, bringing the mud to his shoulder. His fingers bumped against something, and he grabbed hold. His fingers slipped, but he clutched his fist as tight as he could and pulled. The action caused the bog to pull his body into its depths, but he didn’t care. If Jenny accepted his trade, then he would die a thousand times for the chance to save Jennifer.
Rory managed to grab hold of what felt like an arm with both hands. He pulled harder, crying out as he lifted her. The mud came to his chest now. It became difficult to breathe as the pressure of it pushed against him.
The arm he held slipped, but he would not let go. A muddy hand broke the surface.
“I have ya, my love.” Rory grunted at the effort it took to pull her from the bog. “I…”
A second hand came through the surface on its own, slapping down on the ground near his face. The claws were unmistakable. It wasn’t Jennifer.
“No!” The agonized cry escaped him. That was all the fight he had left.
Mud touched his jaw. The bony arm slipped from his grasp.
Peat clung to Jenny Greentooth’s head. Clumps flew from her missing nose as she hissed out air. She opened her mouth and gurgled a horrible sound in his direction. Like the bog she lived in, her body looked eaten away by rot and decay. She crawled out of the muck, using the top of his head for support as she pushed him down.
The cold bog enveloped him. Rory tried to swim toward where Jennifer went under, desperate to push her to the surface. It was no use. If he could manage to move even an inch closer to her, he’d take it. If this is what eternity had in store, he would die knowing he spent it with the love of his life.
Chapter Eighteen
Death was cold.
It was dark.
And the fear still lingered.
Jennifer’s lungs had stopped fighting
