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The cave had been cool, uncomfortably so in comparison to the heat outside. The chill was even worse standing on the outcropping in the cavern. My mind flashed back to the boys trapped there, caught in some eternal hell all because they’d refused to play some twisted demon’s soul-sucking game.
A shiver wracked me, and I rubbed my arms despite the sweltering afternoon heat. I was not a sissy, not about a lot of things, but I truly hated being cold. Give me sunshine and sweat over shivers and snow any day of the week.
Then my woefully urban-bound brain struck gold, and I nearly slapped my own forehead for my stupidity. It was just like my first day in that goddess-forsaken place.
“I need higher ground.” A quick glance around me made it clear the place I was sitting wasn’t the place to search.
I scanned the woods as I walked, finally landing on a palm tree with ringed bark that looked like it wouldn’t be too difficult to scale. Assuming it wasn’t crawling with biting bugs like the last one. I was a kid the last time I’d successfully climbed a tree, but I still remembered how, especially with a mature palm. I walked over to the base of it and sat down to unlace my boots. I peeled out of my sweaty socks and laid them over the top, careful to keep the balls of my feet balanced on the toes of my boots so they didn’t pick up a bunch of dirt and crud.
I didn’t mind getting dirty, but when a girl needed to climb a palm tree barefoot, dirt was the enemy. Craning my neck back to look up, the tree seemed to double in height. My stomach sank. What was I thinking?
“Maybe it’s like riding a bike,” I said to myself, without nearly enough confidence. I stood on the base of the tree, wrapped my arms tight around it, and planted the soles of my feet against the bark, just like I remembered doing as a younger, much lighter, and much more agile child. Then I squinched upward little by little, pushing with my feet and holding myself steady with my arms as I lifted my legs and repositioned for the next push.
The whole process got both easier and harder as I went. I found a rhythm, but it wasn’t long before my muscles were shaking from the exertion.
Slow and steady.
I inched up the tree until I was finally, blessedly, high enough to see above most of the canopy. “What does a girl need to do to find some cursed caves in a magical realm?” I grinned victoriously, despite the rapidly waning daylight. “Find a mountain.”
I studied the rise of the peak against the darkening sky and spotted a jumble of amber lights flickering toward the base, winding their way lazily up the mountainside until they coalesced into one large, pulsing ball of light.
“A bonfire,” I whispered to myself, though I had no idea why I was whispering.
Excitement rippled through me and a new sense of urgency pulsed in my veins. All I’d needed was a target and now I had it. Now, I could find Matty.
I glanced down to plan my descent and sucked in a pinched breath as the ground, which logically shouldn’t have been more than fifty or sixty feet below, seemed to pull further and further away the longer I looked. Thanks to that momentary jolt of panic, my feet slipped, and I slid down the tree, scrambling with my bare feet as I fought for any kind of hold.
The sound my clothes made scraping down the smooth, ringed bark only ratcheted up my panic and I gave up trying to get my now scraped and battered feet to hold me up. I wrapped my legs around the trunk like a drunk stripper on a very large pole and squeezed as tight as I could.
I slid another foot or so, but much slower, until I came to a complete stop. When I sucked in a ragged breath, my throat was so raw I had to squeeze my eyes shut against the burn.
Did I scream?
The bark was cool against my cheek when I pressed it to the rippled surface. I drew in another shaky breath, forcing myself to inhale slowly rather than sucking the great lungsful of air my body demanded.
“Panic is the enemy,” I whispered in a raspy voice. “Panic gets people killed.”
When I finally worked up the nerve to crack one eye open, the sun was disappearing behind the horizon and the ground was still entirely too far away. The soles of my feet throbbed painfully, and I was pretty sure I had about a thousand tiny scratches and scrapes bloodying them up.
Stupid, stupid girl. Why did I think I could do this?
“Fuckity fuck,” I hissed. It wasn’t like I could hold myself up there all night. And even if I could have, I would still have to find a way to the ground in the morning.
I tightened my grip on the tree and ventured another glance down. The trunk of the palm was slightly curved, which meant I wasn’t looking at a straight down descent. “Thank the goddess for small miracles.”
I wiggled my butt a little, loosening my thighs just enough for my body to slip a few inches, then I clamped down tight again.
“Okay,” I let out in a little huff. “I can do this.”
I closed my eyes and repeated the process, sliding in short, jerky bouts, until the trunk of the palm was too large for my quaking legs. My muscles vibrated with effort and fatigue, and I knew it was coming before it happened.
“No! No, no, no,” I pleaded with any power that would listen. “Pleas—”
My battered muscles gave up the fight, top and bottom, legs and arms, and I slid way too fast for comfort. The ridges of the bark scraped against my chest, thighs, and arms. Even my cheeks caught some of the friction because I was still leaning in, trying desperately to slow myself down. Then I hit a large hump in the trunk and lost my grip entirely, tumbling the rest of the way down like a discarded ragdoll.
22
HOOK
