“No!” Summer cried, trying to catch the reins for the all the good it did her. Ke’lar had four times her strength. “That’s the wrong direction! We have to get to the clanhall as fast as we can!”
“What we must do is reach higher ground—and quickly,” he said grimly. “Once the storm has passed we will take the mountain pass to the south and reach the clanhall that way.”
“But—how much longer will it take to get to the clanhall if we do that?”
Ke’lar’s arm went around her, holding her firmly against him. “It does not matter if the alternative is not getting there at all.”
He kicked the multari and the beast took off at such a speed that Summer was clutching the saddle, her head bent to protect her face from the pelting rain as Beya galloped toward the mountains.
Summer never knew rain could hurt.
But this rain sure as hell did and this wasn’t a storm—it was a goddamned hurricane.
Ke’lar’s arm was like steel around her middle as he fought to control the multari one-handed. Summer didn’t know how he could even see where they were going. She was forced to ride curled forward in the saddle, her head bent to her shoulder, trying with her other arm to protect her face against the pounding rain, utterly blinded by the downpour. She ached from holding this position so long but she didn’t dare shift. It was all she could do against the wind to hold on.
She was shivering, the new boots he’d given her heavy with sopped up water. He’d thrown a blanket around her shoulders when the rain had started getting bad but the sodden fabric did nothing to keep her warm and her teeth had been chattering so long her jaw hurt.
Summer screamed as a flash and instant loud crack electrified the air. Her cry was swallowed up by the storm and her ears were ringing. The stench of ozone and charred wood mixed with the dampness and mud made her choke. The tree beside them swayed, then there was a loud crack and a whoosh as the tree fell, nearly crushing them beneath it.
Ke’lar strained to keep the beast from bolting as the terrified multari spun away, her huge body trembling beneath them.
He swung down from the multari and Summer gasped as the freezing rain pounded against her unprotected back. He yelled something to her but his words were carried off by the wind. Nearly blinded by the darkness and the rain, Summer reached out, fumbling for him.
His fingers caught hers, strong and steady as ever. He pressed her hand for a moment, then let go. Holding her palm above her eyes and squinting against the rain, Summer saw Ke’lar take the multari’s reins and bend his body against the storm. A moment later Beya started forward again, the terrified animal moving as if by her master’s will alone.
It went on like that, Summer huddled over the saddle, her fingers cramping from gripping the wet leather, Ke’lar, his shoulder to the wind, pulling on the reins to keep the multari moving.
They were ascending again, although slowly. From the rocky path they rode upon, the swaying trees revealed the valley beneath, the water swelling the already turbulent river. Summer had seen flash floods on TV, seen the devastation a wall of water could do. The valley was flooding fast and if Ke’lar hadn’t insisted they turn toward the mountains they too would have been swept away with it.
I would have been out here alone if I hadn’t stumbled into his campsite. I’d be dead . . .
Ke’lar yanked Beya’s reins hard, urging the animal to the right. A glance to the left showed why—the path had narrowed as they climbed and there was a drop sharp enough to make Summer swallow hard.
The beast stopped moving as Ke’lar’s arm went around Summer’s middle. He hauled her down from the saddle as if it were effortless.
“I can’t see!” she cried, thankful at least to feel firm rocky path beneath her feet as he pulled her along. She stumbled on legs that felt wooden from the long ride and his hold tightened, his strength all that was keeping her upright. “Where are we going?”
The howling wind took his answer, the rain and wind so heavy they had to lean into it to move at all. Ke’lar gripped her waist tightly and she knew if he let her go she’d be lost here in a nightmare of lightning and never-ending water.
Summer had to fight to take every step, blindly clutching at him, wondering in a jolt of panic if a person could actually drown standing up.
Suddenly they were out of the rain, Summer gasping at the dank air. She passed her hand over her forehead to clear the water from her eyes. The damp smell made her nose crinkle, the dirt soft and powdery under her new—now soaked—boots.
“Oh my God,” she panted, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I never thought I’d be so happy to be in a freaking cave.”
His bright glance went over her. “Are you all right?”
“Soaked, freezing, but yeah. You?”
“Also pleased to have shelter, even here.” His eyes narrowed as his gaze turned to the furthest reaches of the cavern. “If it proves unoccupied.”