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One
The ruin of Tintagel castle was one of her favorite places in the world, thought Sarah Moran. It was a shame she made it here so seldom, even though her family lived only fifteen miles away. Today, however, she had convinced her parents to bring their houseguests up the Cornish coast to visit the ancient site, and she intended to make the most of it. And so, while they looked over the remains of the medieval buildings, she walked the edges of the cliffs and searched for secret nooks and crannies in this place where Uther Pendragon came to Igraine and conceived the legendary King Arthur. Sarah’s mind filled with all the marvelous stories she’d read as she wandered—quests and battles and love and loss, not to mention several characters she had wished to give a sound shake and some tart advice about their foolishness.
Rounding a tall stone outcropping, she noticed a long, narrow shadow behind it. The slant of the sun was just right to reveal a crevice, and when she went over to look, she saw that the opening was wide enough to edge through. She slipped in and followed some turns and twists, nearly tripping once on the scatter of pebbles on the ground. The boom of the sea echoed on the rocky walls, and the air was damp with spray.
At last the space opened up a bit, and she could see the Atlantic waves breaking on the shore below. The currents here were fierce. On the left, a series of ledges descended. Could it be a rough-carved stair? Perhaps leading to some forgotten hideaway? Sarah leaned forward and peered down. No, the heights were too high to be steps, and they slanted the wrong way.
“Look out there,” said a deep voice. “What are you doing?”
Sarah turned to find a figure emerging from the crevice. Outlined by sunlight that dazzled her eyes, it seemed at first that she had called up a knight of old, a magic guardian of secret ways perhaps. Then she saw his buckskin breeches and long-tailed coat. Only another visitor. “I thought there might be a stair down the cliff,” she said.
He came up beside her and looked down. “Could it…” But when he took one further step, a slab of rock tilted under his foot and he lurched forward over thin air. Instinctively, Sarah reached out. Reflexively, he caught her hand. And then both of them were hurtling toward the sand in a rush of air and fear.
The man hit flat on his back with a thud. Sarah landed on top of him, drawing a huff of expelled breath from his chest. And then nothing. A wave roared in and sprayed them. Startled gulls screeched and flew off.
For a few moments, Sarah lay still, stunned, draped over a total stranger. Then she pushed up with her arms and twisted to sit beside him. From this angle, it was even clearer that the ledges weren’t a stair. Indeed, from down here, the cliff seemed nearly sheer and much higher than it had appeared from above. There was no one in sight. The strolling visitors were hidden by the crag and piles of boulders.
Another wave hissed in over the sand, drenching Sarah’s legs and spread skirts and the man’s riding boots and breeches. She struggled to her knees. A third, larger wave broke over a boulder and showered them with spray. They were on a narrow strip of beach, barely two arms’ span wide, and they’d been fortunate not to land on one of the large stones that dotted it. Sarah could see that the shore would be completely covered when the tide came in, as it was rapidly doing now. “Are you all right?” she asked the man.
He said nothing. Another wave washed up, slightly higher.
Sarah bent to examine her companion, putting her fingers to his wrist. His pulse beat evenly, but he was unresponsive. She could see no wound. Feeling the back of his head, she found no lump there. But he had hit the sand hard, with her weight atop him. A stunning blow apparently.
Another wave washed over them, cold and relentless. The tide was rushing in. They had to climb back up. Sarah stood, staggered to find her balance, and went over to the cliff. The rocks were overhung and slippery with damp. She tried a step up but her shoe didn’t grip and she fell back. “Hello,” she called. “Help! Someone help us!” Even at the top of her lungs, her voice was swallowed up by the roar of the sea.
A wave hissed in, soaking the man up to his chest. Receding, it pulled at Sarah’s feet with worrisome power. She had to get him out of the way of the tide or it would drown him. But how? Even if she could climb the cliff by herself, she couldn’t carry him. And the sea would engulf him before she made it up.
Frightened, Sarah looked around. She noticed an opening a little way along, the seaward end of a slender sea cave. She ran over to the cavern, which was lit by the lowering western sun. It went well into the cliff. The front part was full of water, but the sandy floor rose as it slanted inward. She thought there was a dry patch at the end.
She returned to the man, shook him a little in hopes he might revive. He groaned. “Please wake up,” she said. He did not.
Sarah looked around. There was no rescue coming. There was no one but her to save them. She took a deep breath, gathered all her resolve, and stooped to take hold of the man’s coat collar. She tugged. Though he wasn’t a huge fellow, he didn’t move. She dug in her heels, grasped his coat with both hands, and pulled with all her strength. A wave lifted his legs and hips, which was a help, and she managed to shift him a bit. Very slowly, she began to drag him toward the cave, her back protesting at the effort.
It was hideously hard work. It would have been impossible if not for the rising water, which began to float him on his back as they went. This was not all good news, however, because the strength of the current, coming and going, nearly knocked Sarah down every time. Incoming waves struck her legs like a blow, tripping her up and threatening to push her over. Going back out, they pulled at her skirts and made the sand shift under her feet until she nearly fell. Once she did, with a hard splash, losing her grip on the man’s coat and only just catching it again before he was swept away. At this rate, she didn’t see how she was going to save them. They had just made it inside the cave, where the water was deepening with each surge. She was shaken and tired and beginning to be terrified.
“Unnh,” said her charge.
A bigger wave boomed in, hit an angle in the side wall of the cave, and sprayed Sarah with foaming salt water from head to foot. Some got into her mouth. She spat out the bitter liquid.
The man scrabbled at the sand, digging his fingers into the cave floor. He began to thrash in the water.
“Be careful!” exclaimed Sarah. She’d nearly lost hold of him again.
With a sudden lunge, he sat up. “Ow!”
“Are you hurt?” Sarah asked, keeping her grip on his coat.
He put a hand to his side, shaking his head as if to clear it. “What…what happened? Where are we?”
“We fell from the cliff,” said Sarah. “Can you stand up, do you think?”
With her help, he struggled upright, only to be knocked down by the next wave, which tried very hard to pull him out to sea as it receded. Sarah gripped his coat collar again, leaning back against the current.
Coughing, the man scrabbled to hands and knees and then up. Still seeming dazed, he looked around.
“I couldn’t see any way to climb back up,” Sarah said. “You wouldn’t wake. And the tide is coming in.”
He staggered under the onslaught of another wave. The water was well above Sarah’s knees now, and the pull was fierce. “Come,” she said, putting an arm around his waist as support for them both.
