FORTY-SEVEN

Because of her injured ankle’s restricted movement, Caitlyn knew that Mason could travel faster down the ladders than she could. Climbing one ladder wouldn’t matter much, but a series of ladders were ahead.

Jordan had explained to Caitlyn what remained of her journey. The ladders descended hundreds of feet. Then a bridge would take her across the river at the bottom, back to the side that she’d started from.

But she knew that eventually, at this pace, Mason would catch her on one of the ledges. Even if she somehow managed to stay ahead of him, even if she managed to get across the bridge at the bottom of the chasm, she faced the same problem she hadn’t been able to overcome on the first rope bridge. While the plan had been for her to cross the top of the chasm and then drop the bridge to seal off any pursuers, with Mason’s weight, it had been impossible. She didn’t see it happening any differently below.

If she didn’t stop Mason somehow, he’d cross the river again at the bottom and discover what so many people had already made such a sacrifice to hide.

And she could hear Papa’s words. “You can’t be taken, dead or alive. You must not fall into their hands.”

No, even if it meant her own life, she had no choice.

When she reached the second ledge at the bottom of the first ladder, she didn’t begin scrambling down the next ladder.

Instead, she removed her cloak, set it down, and waited for Mason.

Mason lightly stepped onto the second ledge and slowly turned. He expected to move slowly, even crawl, as he searched for the hooks that held the next rope ladder.

He didn’t expect a beam directly in his face. Caitlyn was still on this ledge.

“I heard you release the bridge up there,” she told him, her volume raised above the water cascading past the ledge.

Mason snorted, then spoke, raising his voice too. “I want you for myself. All alone.”

He reached down with his good hand and unsheathed his knife. Mason didn’t move forward. He could at any time, of course. But it was too much pleasure to savor this. Nor did he want to risk any sudden moves. Not until he knew where the edge of the ledge was.

“Stop,” she said. “Without that bridge for you to get back, your life is going to depend on what I explain to you.”

“I’m sure I’ll find my way out.” Mason scraped his thumb against the knife blade to test the sharpness. “Without your help.”

“The only way out is down,” she answered from behind the light. “More ladders. Like the one above you. I’m holding the ladder from this ledge right now. I unhooked it while I was waiting for you. If I drop it, you’ll be stuck here.”

Mason snorted again. “I don’t believe you.”

“Think about it,” she said. “If I know you’re going to kill me, what difference does it make how I die? Move toward me, and I throw the ladder away as I jump. Dying that way is quicker and less painful than facing your knife.”

Mason knew she was telling the truth. His mouth tasted like it had filled with ashes. His knife hand shook.

“So get rid of the knife and climb back to the top and wait,” she said. “All I want is a head start. Let me get to the bottom. If you start chasing me again, I’ll do this again at the next ledge. Whether you’re trapped here or one or two ledges below, it doesn’t matter. You’ll still be trapped.”

“You expect me to let you escape.”

“We both live,” she said, “or we both die. Your choice.”

The light shifted away from his face. It lowered, showing the dark shadow of her lower body on the rock floor of the ledge. He focused on the thick iron hooks, where the loops of the rope ladder should have been.

Nothing. She hadn’t lied. The ladder is gone.

The light shifted to her feet. She’d placed the loops around her left ankle, the leg closest to the ledge, and her heel was off the ground. If she moved slightly, the weight of the rope would slide down her foot. The ladder would be gone. Mason croaked, like the low croak of a raven that had wrapped its talons around his throat. In that instant, he fully understood the horror of it. Trapped. No food. No water. If she jumped, he would not even have light. The worms of terror began crawling under his skin.

“If you were on the other side,” she said, “this wouldn’t have happened. But the others can’t be found.”

“Others?” Mason wanted the conversation to continue, because he’d just noticed something. She’d made a mistake. The drop-off was to her left, but straight behind her was a sheer rock face. She was only ten feet away. If she fell backward, he’d have her.

Keep her talking. He shifted the knife slightly.

“Bar Elohim did not win,” she said.

“The soldiers captured everyone,” he answered. Keep her talking. “You saw that.”

“The Clan has not been destroyed.”

He wanted her. Dead. He wasn’t going to retreat. He shifted the knife slightly. What he was going to do was fire it into her chest. She’d fall backward. Forward, the rope ladder would slide off her ankle. Backward, it would go up her leg. He’d be on top of her before she could move.

“You can’t do it.” He moved a step toward her, intending to distract her by talk and by movement. “You don’t have the steel to jump. You’re just a girl. You want to live so bad, you won’t drop that ladder.”

“You’re wrong,” she said.

With the snakelike quickness that had always given him so much pride, he snapped his wrist, firing the knife through the air, expecting to track her fall by the way the light moved.

There was a barely discernible thud above the noise of the water. She cried out in pain.

Mason leaped forward, but the light didn’t move backward. It moved sideways. Out into the chasm! Plummeting into the darkness.

She jumped.

Then Mason blinked in disbelief as the light defied gravity, as if it had landed on an invisible hand, and then it began to turn in a slow circle.