by Jaleta Clegg
Chapter 19
Air rushed past. Tayvis and I hit the end of the rope with a jerk. The knots creaked but held. We dangled fifty feet from the sharp rocks below. I swallowed hard and twisted my hands into the ropes.
"Don't get too clever," Ameli called from the top of the cliff. "I'll check on you tomorrow. Perhaps then you'll be ready to cooperate. And Dace, I hope your knots slip first." Her footsteps faded.
The rope creaked as we dangled. I tried not to think about the sharp rocks below us.
Tayvis tilted his head, studying the rope. "Give me some slack. I can just about reach the knots. If I get my hands free we might be able to climb."
"You think we can make it?"
"Would you rather just hang around until Ameli returns?"
"I'd rather beat her senseless."
"I'll hold her down while you kick her." He plucked at the rope pinning his arms. "Give me some slack."
"How?" We dangled in the air, unable to even reach the cliff which curved inwards.
"Get closer."
He was already much too close, but I squirmed even closer. I pressed my cheek against his neck, stretching my arms farther around him. My heart raced. I'd never been so close to anyone. Ever.
His shoulders shifted, muscles moving under the thin cloth of his shirt. He jerked the knot behind my back. The rest of the rope pulled taut, squeezing me against him. I closed my eyes and pretended we were on the ground. It didn't help. I opened them again.
He fumbled with the knot. The cuffs on his wrists clanked. Sweat trickled down his face, sticky against my cheek.
"Your training didn't cover this situation?"
"Being tied up and shoved off a cliff? No." He jerked at the knot, swearing under his breath. "It didn't include untying knots, either. That was Ameli, Leran's assistant?"
"Yes." His pulse beat against my cheek.
"She's a sadist. Why does she hate you so much?"
"She didn't appreciate me landing in the Baron's cow pasture. She claims I destroyed decades of research."
"Decades of smuggling, more likely."
"I think she's in love with Leran." Idle speculation helped distract me from the rocks and my overactive imagination.
"That would put an intriguing twist on it. Ha! I think I've got this figured out."
The rope suddenly loosened. It twisted away, falling onto the rocks below. I tightened my hands on the other ropes snaked around and between us.
"Now we're getting somewhere." Tayvis lifted his arms over his head, clamping them onto the thick rope leading up the cliff.
He kicked, swinging us in towards the cliff and then out again, like a pendulum. The rope creaked alarmingly. His feet hit the cliff wall. He pushed off, lunging up the rope to grab a higher handhold.
The rope popped and slipped, dropping us a foot before catching again. I squeezed my arms around him. "You're crazy, Malcolm." We were about to die; we were way beyond using last names and formal titles.
"Don't call me that." His grin was gone, replaced by strain. Sweat dripped off his chin. He shoved us another two feet higher.
"Why not?"
Tayvis kicked off from the cliff again and gained another few feet.
"It is your name," I added.
"Because I don't want you to."
"Why not?"
He pulled us up hand over hand. The cuffs slowed him. He paused to catch his breath. "Because I don't like it."
"I like Malcolm. It's a good name."
"No, it isn't."
We still had a long way to go. I tilted my head. The spiky tree leaned out impossibly far above us.
"Why don't you like Malcolm?" I thought light thoughts; I was too tied up to help any other way.
He dragged us up the rope, his muscles bulging. "Because I don't," he said, punctuating each word with another lunge.
"Malcolm is a strong name."
"Why don't you like Zeresthina?"
"How did you find that out?"
He grinned and hauled us up another few feet. "I read your record, remember?"
"That's not fair. Malcolm," I added just to see what he'd do.
"Don't call me that." He lunged up the rope.
"Malcolm."
"Zeresthina." He panted, his face red with strain. He hung for a moment, just breathing.
The rope popped. We dropped a few inches. He swore in earnest and hauled us up. The rope broke one strand at a time. I silently urged him on.
We reached the rocky bulge where the tree grew, a good six feet of solid rock.
"You get us over that and I won't call you Malcolm ever again," I said.
"If I don't you won't be calling anybody anything." He took a deep breath, then climbed the rope, hand over hand.
The rope creaked, frayed strands unraveling. Tayvis scrambled up the rope, leaving bloody handprints behind. My back scraped over the rock.
The rope gave with a final pop. Tayvis shoved his feet against the rock, pushing upwards with everything he had. He caught the root of the tree, pulling us over the lip of stone. We rolled away from the edge.
We came to a stop with me on top, my hands pinned under him. The thick rope tangled our legs. He dropped his hands over his head and let out a long sigh.
"You owe me for that, Dace," he said.
"Whatever you say, Malcolm." I smiled.
"Zeresthina." He grinned teasingly.
His smile faded as he studied my face, an odd look in his eyes, intense and serious.
A warm fuzziness spread through me, scaring me. I wanted distance, but the ropes held us too closely. I couldn't look away from his eyes, drawn in by new feelings I didn't understand.
He shifted his gaze to his cuffed hands. "Think you could untie a few knots?"
I wiggled my fingers, more than willing to let the strange moment pass unremarked. "Not from here."
"This is going to be tricky." He brought his hands behind me. "Roll to your right and then try to stand."
We fell several times, tangled in each other and the ropes. We finally managed to gain our feet. I looked at his chin because I didn't dare look into his eyes. That odd look might still be there.
He dropped his arms around me. The cuffs clanked together. "I hope you can reach the knots, because I can't."
"I need a little slack."
He tucked his hands under my back end and lifted. It gave me slack in the ropes, but it also put me even closer to him. The fastest way to get some distance between us was to untie the ropes. I wriggled my hands, working the rope up my wrists until I could reach the closest knot.
The rope was rough, a tough twist of fibers that gouged and cut my fingers. My fingernail caught in the knot, ripping off the end. I swore under my breath.
"What?" Tayvis asked.
"Just a nail. Why do you hate your name?"
"Why do you hate yours?"
I jerked viciously at the knot. I didn't want to be reminded of the orphanage, of being helpless, of my name dripping with contempt when anyone said it. I ripped off another nail. I let loose with swear words that would make any engineer proud.
Tayvis laughed. "You should wash your mouth out for that."
"There are no Patrol regulations against swearing." The knot slipped free. "One down, and about four more to go."
I worked in silence. Tayvis shifted his hold, his shoulder muscles tensing. I inched higher to get a better view of the knots. My cheek pressed against his neck. His sweat mingled with mine, faintly spicy under the scent of wood smoke.
"My mother named me Malcolm after a vid star," Tayvis said. "He was dashing and heroic and my mother was more than a little romantic. When I was thirteen, Malcolm Davies announced he was really a she and had been all along."
"So?"
"So every other cadet made certain I'd never forget it."
"I don't see what the problem is." Another knot slid free. The rope hung marginally looser. I shifted into a better position to reach another knot.
"It was a p
roblem for a thirteen year old boy. Can you hurry on those knots, Dace?"
"I'm working as fast as I can."
"We have to leave. Sooner rather than later."
"I know." I was acutely aware of how close he was. I'd never been so close to anyone, physically or otherwise. The sooner we were untied, the sooner I could put space between us again.
The last knot came loose; the rope slid free. Tayvis dropped his hands, letting me down. I pulled my hands free of the tangle of ropes. I stepped away. His arms stopped me. I didn't look at him even though I knew he watched me. He lifted his arms after a moment, the chain between the cuffs rattling. I turned to look down the slope.
"Do you still have those lockpicks?" Tayvis asked. He waited for me to look at him. "Show me how to use them." He lifted his wrists.
I fished the picks out of my boot. Tayvis held out the cuffs. I pulled the biggest, stiffest pick from the packet. The simple lock was crudely made. I wiggled the pick into it. The cuff clicked open.
"Neat trick," Tayvis said.
"One worth a minimum ten years prison time somewhere very unpleasant." I reached for the other cuff. "This isn't going in any official report, is it?"
"What isn't? I did not see you pick any locks or do anything else even remotely illegal."
The cuff opened. He threw them off the cliff. "We've got to move. I hope they didn't find my horse."
He didn't need to tell me to hurry. I didn't want Ameli to find me again. Next time she wouldn't hesitate to shoot first.
