a chance against that dam. We will die.”
Lorcan panted for another heartbeat. Then
another. And then, gritting his teeth, his hands
white-knuckled on the saddle, he lifted his leg
enough to slide one foot into the stirrup.
Now would be the true test: that mighty
push upward, the swinging of his leg over
Farasha’s body, to the other side of the saddle.
Elide positioned herself at his back, so
careful of the terrible slash down his body.
Her feet sank ankle-deep into freezing mud.
She didn’t dare look toward the dam. Not yet.
“Get up.” Her command barked over the
panicked cries of the fleeing soldiers. “Get in
that saddle now.”
Lorcan didn’t move, his body trembling.
Elide screamed, “Get up now!” And shoved
him upward.
Lorcan let out a bellow that rang in her
ears. The saddle groaned at his weight, and
lily
(lily)
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