by Sky Croft
Blake, as if following Amber’s idea, lay back on the ground and closed her eyes. A few moments passed in silence, then after regarding their prone partners, Kale shared an amused look with Shale.
“You two had better not be falling asleep.” Kale gave Amber’s outstretched leg a nudge with her boot.
“Just resting my eyes,” Amber said.
“Like I believe that.”
“It’s too cold to fall asleep,” Blake murmured drowsily.
Kale sniggered. “Sounds like you’re managing just fine.”
Shale moved and sat closer to Blake, who turned onto her front and rested on Shale’s legs.
“Shale, don’t encourage them. We’ll be down here all night.”
“That’s fine with me,” Amber said.
Kale glanced around the vast, but gloomy cavern. “Wouldn’t you rather sleep under the open sky than underground?” “My eyes are closed.” Amber’s tone was dry. “How will I know the difference?”
Kale had no answer for that. But she did have a way to get Blake moving. “I bet there are snakes down here.”
Blake didn’t so much as twitch. “There are snakes up top, too.” She peered at Kale out of one eye. “Nice try.”
Shale chuckled as she petted Blake’s hair. “Just be patient, Kale. We’ll have to go up before it gets dark so we can still see what we’re doing.”
At Blake and Amber’s groan, she added, “And if anyone wants a reason why we can’t stay here overnight, it’s simple. The candles will run out, and we’ll be left blind down here.”
Kale slapped her thigh in success, knowing that couldn’t be refuted. “That’s an excellent reason, Shale.”
“You don’t have to sound so smug about it.” Amber sat upright with obvious reluctance, and uncorked her water skin. She took a long drink, then passed it to Kale.
Kale swallowed a few mouthfuls, enjoying the fresh cool water as it slipped down her throat. She was pleased Amber had thought to refill the skin at the underground river. “Maybe you should both splash some of this water on your face? It would wake you up.”
“Kale, don’t even think...” Amber squealed as Kale compressed the water skin, launching a spurt of water in her direction. She quickly rolled out of its path and sprung to her feet, glaring at Kale with a strange mix of annoyance and amusement on her face.
“There, you’re up.” Kale grinned at her, totally unrepentant. “It worked.” She turned her attention to Blake, who was scrambling up also.
“I’m up!” Blake strode directly to Kale and snatched the water skin from her grasp. “Give me that.”
“I’ll have to remember this.” Kale pointed to Shale, who she could tell was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to stifle her humor at the situation. “Shale, take note, you might need to use this trick yourself someday.”
“Only if she wants to get kicked out of bed,” Blake said.
As if unable to restrain herself any longer, Shale broke into laughter. “You should’ve seen your faces.”
“You looked something like this.” Kale pulled a horrified face, exaggerating the emotion tenfold.
Shale and Kale both creased up in hysterics, leaning against one another for support. An instant later Kale spluttered in shock, as she and Shale received a sudden drenching from the water skin.
“Blake!” the twins exclaimed in unison.
Blake was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s not so funny now, is it?”
Amber giggled like a banshee. “Oh, I think it is.”
Shale made a show of wiping the water off her face. “Right, now you’ve asked for it.”
“Get them!”
Kale launched herself at Amber as Shale darted for Blake. They chased one another around the cavern, hilarity injecting new life into their weary limbs. Their laughter echoed all around them as it reflected back off the stone walls, carrying up the shaft and to the surface above.
SHALE STOOD AT the bottom of the deep shaft, waiting her turn to ascend. Like they had done on the previous rope, she and Kale were to go up top, and the gold was to be loaded on by Blake and Amber below. Kale had been impatient to get started, so was already on her way to the surface. But it was a long climb, and Shale knew it would take some time.
It would of course be quicker if two people were scaling the rope at once—the huge stone pillar above could certainly hold their joint weight, but it wasn’t wise to put too much strain on the rope.
“Can I have the water skin, Amber?” Shale saw Amber’s brown eyes narrow suspiciously—Amber clearly didn’t want a retaliative soaking. “To drink out of.”
Amber raised a warning finger before passing her the water skin.
Shale took several gulps, thirsty from the strenuous activities. “It’s certainly a good hiding place.” She gestured to the surrounding cavern. “If we ever have call for such a thing, we know to come back here.”
“Indeed.” Blake took the water skin and sipped from it. “I do wonder how such a place was discovered originally. I mean, I can see how someone would stumble across the entrance.” A wry smile. “Like I did, but it’s an odd place to explore. We wouldn’t have looked twice if it wasn’t for the map.”
“True.” Shale glanced around herself, taking in the vast chamber once more. “You would never imagine that the shaft opened up into a large cavern, never mind the structure of tunnels leading off from it.”
“It’s a remarkable place,” Amber said. “But I can’t say I’ll be sorry to see the back of it.”
Blake gave an emphatic nod. “Me either. It’s too cold for my tastes. I feel like I haven’t been warm for a month.”
“That’s my cue.” With an indulgent smile, Shale took a step closer and wrapped her arms snugly around Blake’s torso. She pressed into Blake from behind, sharing her body heat as Blake reclined against her.
“Mmm, that’s better.”
“I live to be of service, my Queen.” Shale didn’t use the title to tease, she whole-heartedly meant the words.
Blake tipped her head back and regarded Shale. She seemed to realize Shale’s sincerity, as she reached up and softly brushed Shale’s face. “Aren’t I the lucky one?”
Shale enjoyed the tender smile that formed, and returned one of her own, getting lost in Blake’s green gaze.
They shared a long moment, then remembered they weren’t alone. To Amber’s credit, she was looking discreetly away, obviously trying to give them as much privacy as she could. They reluctantly moved apart, Shale heading back toward the shaft to check on Kale’s progress. She hadn’t gone three steps when a sharp pain exploded in her head, and she released a grunt of torment. The suddenness of such a sensation made her stumble, but to her surprise she didn’t hit the ground. Concerned hands were instantly fussing over her, steadying her and keeping her upright. It took Shale a moment to register that it was Blake who had caught her, and that Blake was now talking anxiously to her.
“Shale? Talk to me.”
“Shale?” Amber was gripping her arm, as if trying to get her to focus. “What’s wrong?”
Shale slowly lowered her hands, which had risen to cradle her throbbing head. She squeezed her eyes shut and then reopened them, giving her head a slight shake to clear it. The abrupt pain had overwhelmed her senses for a moment, but now that she could think again, Shale knew instantly the pain didn’t belong to her—it was Kale’s—something had happened to her.
Though the pain had faded as quickly as it had appeared, the intensity of it worried Shale—she herself only felt a portion of it, and not the full amount that Kale did.
“Shale, please,” Blake said. “What is it?”
The desperate plea in Blake’s voice snapped Shale out of it, and she met Blake’s troubled gaze for an instant, then shifted to Amber. “It’s Kale.”
Without another word, not that any were needed, Shale tore loose of their grasp and ran for the rope, leaping onto it and scrambling up it as fast as her arms would take her. An urgent, insistent need w
as pulling at her, and she could think of nothing else but reaching her twin. The yearning was so great she ignored it when her arms grew tired, pushing on with a determination that knew no bounds, and had no limits.
Though Shale knew something bad had happened to Kale, she had no notion of what that something might be. An icy tendril of fear worked its way throughout her body, and she couldn’t shake the sensation that she was about to face the greatest test of her life.
Chapter Twenty-one
SHALE BEGAN TO lever herself up out of the shaft. Her eyes searched everywhere for Kale, but she couldn’t find her. She could, however, sense her.
She was halfway out when she spotted a crimson stain near her hand—it was blood. There was quite a lot of it, a small pool of red. Shale recognized that whatever had happened to Kale, it’d started here, as she was climbing out of the hole. Drag marks were near the blood, and Shale knew in that instant Kale had been attacked. The perpetrator had struck Kale on the head, then dragged her away to conceal it. Kale had likely been taken by surprise, and in her compromised position, hadn’t been able to react in time to defend herself.
Realizing that she was now in the same compromised position, Shale hurried to pull herself out of the shaft.
A shadow loomed above her, and she glanced up to see Tanis, looking alive but not well after her plunge from the waterfall. How she’d survived was beyond Shale, but she didn’t have time to speculate.
With a feral grin, Tanis swung a fist straight at Shale’s head. Clutched in her hand was a large round stone, which was already marked by Kale’s blood.
Shale was barely out of the hole, and she twisted away from the strike as best she could. The stone connected with the back of her head, sending a blinding pain through her skull and knocking her flat to the ground.
Shale fought to stay conscious, her eyes swimming in and out of focus. The stone had glanced her head as she’d turned, so she hadn’t taken the full brunt of the blow. Even so, the impact was bad enough to stun her, making her mind foggy and dazed.
As Shale tried to gather her senses, she wondered how Tanis had found them. The answer came to her a moment later—all Tanis had to do was go back to where she’d last seen them, at the top of the waterfall, and track their trail from there. They thought Tanis dead, so hadn’t seen a need to cover their tracks. Shale herself had gone down and searched for Tanis, and hadn’t found any evidence that she’d survived the fall. Tanis must’ve somehow missed the rocks at the bottom of the falls, and allowed the river to carry her downstream a good way before emerging farther on. Shale had only searched so far. Tanis had either gone beyond that point, or she’d got out on the other side of the river and covered her tracks in case one of them came looking for her.
Shale begrudgingly gave Tanis credit for her survival skills, along with her skills for deception. She’d fooled them twice now.
Shale wondered why Tanis wasn’t continuing her attack, and she forced her mind to focus on the task at hand. She rolled onto her side, her head spinning from the movement, and she spotted Tanis dragging an unconscious Kale out from behind a slab of stone. Tanis tugged Kale around to the front of the slab, so Kale was now in Shale’s line of view, and propped her up in a seated position, grappling with Kale’s limp form until she stayed in the posed position. Kale’s head sagged forward, her chin to her chest—she was clearly out cold.
Tanis then left Kale and came back to Shale, who prepared herself for another assault. Shale was astounded when Tanis simply passed her by, crouching instead over the rim of the shaft. Tanis’s body hid her motions from Shale, but as the rope began to move and twitch, she realized, with absolute horror, that Tanis was sawing through the rope. She knew without doubt that Blake would currently be on her way up, frantic to see what was going on. If the rope was cut, Blake would fall to her death.
Shale pushed herself to her feet, her body more doubled than straight, and zoned in solely on Tanis. She wavered slightly, dizzily, but knowing there was no time to waste, she launched herself at Tanis, tackling her away from the rope.
Tanis fell, as did Shale, but Shale landed on top, and punched Tanis once, twice, three times in succession. Shale flinched back as Tanis whipped the knife she’d been using to saw through the rope across her upper arm. A boot to Shale’s chest followed, knocking her clean off Tanis.
A quick glance to the rope told Shale it wouldn’t hold much longer, and Tanis was getting to her feet. She had no time to continue the fight, to finish Tanis off. Shale bolted back toward the rope, praying for a few more moments.
She didn’t get them. The rope snapped.
AS THE ROPE snapped, Shale leapt through the air, body-sliding along the ground to catch the quickly disappearing rope. She heard Blake’s cry of alarm: it sounded close. Her hand delved into the hole, but she found flesh instead of rope, and she clamped securely onto Blake’s wrist. The rope tumbled away, plummeting straight down into darkness.
Shale had to use her free hand to brace on the ground to keep them both from going over the edge. “I’ve got you, Blake.”
“Well, well,” Tanis taunted. “Isn’t this interesting? You only have time to save one, so who will it be? Your twin or your wife?”
With a mocking chuckle, Tanis started toward Kale, knife playing expertly between her fingers.
The situation Shale feared most had arisen, and the decision was too enormous for her to bear. Tanis was indeed Theron’s sister, they both shared the same callous streak. Shale desperately tried to lift Blake, but her bracing hand slipped. She couldn’t find a decent purchase.
“You have until I reach Kale,” Tanis said in a warning tone. “Then I stab her in the heart. Seems fitting, since she broke mine when she took Theron from me.”
Shale tried again to lift Blake, but again her hand slipped.
Shale could never choose, yet the gods in all their cruelty were now demanding a decision from her. Blake was her soul mate, lover, and best friend—she was everything that Shale could ever want in a wife. And though it was true that Blake wasn’t spiritually connected to Shale in the same way as Kale was, her loss would still be as great.
And Kale, her twin, who was also her soul mate and best friend, and the only remaining blood family she had left. Kale had always been by her side. Shale simply couldn’t imagine not having Kale with her, beside her—the concept alone was terrifying to her.
It was unbearable for Shale to even try to envisage her life without one of them, and tears of anguish fell from her eyes. Shale was unable to pick between them, knowing only that she couldn’t bring herself to intentionally harm either woman, and if either were ever to be taken from her, she would never be happy again.
Her inaction, if she stayed with Blake, would kill Kale, but her action to save Kale would kill Blake. How could she ever make such a choice? Shale knew she couldn’t bring herself to open her hand, to release Blake, for she would be killing Blake directly, by her own hand. She would have physically killed her wife, the woman she loved more than life itself. Tanis would be the person responsible for Kale’s death, it would be Tanis’s hand that took Kale’s life, even though inadvertently, Shale had let it happen. However, Kale would still be dead, leaving Shale incomplete for the rest of her life, her beloved twin lost to her, half of a pained, broken soul that would never heal.
Inaction or action? Direct or indirect? What kind of choices were those? Shale entreated all the gods and goddesses on Olympus, begging them to intervene, offering them her own life to spare the women she loved. Not one of them responded. She cursed them all instead, with such vehemence she was surprised she wasn’t struck dead on the spot. Shale didn’t care. What could they possibly do that was worse than the torture she already faced?
Time was moving in slow motion, though Shale’s mind was racing.
“Shale, let me go.”
“What?” Shale thought she had misheard, but the resolve on Blake’s face spoke the same message. “No! Never.”
“You m
ust let me go. Save Kale. I won’t condemn you to suffering your whole life without your twin, without ever being able to feel complete again.” Blake smiled, as if giving her permission, and to show she accepted her fate ungrudgingly. “I love you, Shale. I’ll wait for you in the afterlife.”
“Blake...” Shale had to swallow around the lump in her throat. “I cannot.” She pushed back with her bracing hand, but found no resistance whatsoever, her hand slipping without any traction.
The choice, the decision, was tearing Shale apart. She put voice to the turmoil she was in, releasing a scream that was part fury, part hopelessness, and part devastation.
“I order you, Shale, as your queen. As a queen of queens, you must let me go so you can save Kale.”
Tears streamed down Shale’s face. “I will not.”
“Your queen demands this of you.” Blake’s tone was firm. “You will let me go, Shale. You must.”
“You’re an Amazon queen, you’re to be protected at all costs.”
“A queen can be replaced. A twin cannot.”
“A wife cannot.” Shale’s voice broke. “My Blake.”
Which came first? Her duty to her wife, or her duty to her queen? Shale knew the answer to this dilemma—if she had to disobey Blake, her queen, to save Blake, her wife, she would. Consequences be damned—there would be no greater consequence than the loss of her wife.
Now that quandary had been solved, the answer to her other problem suddenly came to Shale with such clarity that it should’ve been obvious all along. She couldn’t choose which woman to save, who she cared for more, because they were equal in regard. She had but to choose her own action, and as she could never bring herself to hurt either her twin or her wife, she kept her hand closed, secure around Blake’s wrist. If their roles had been reversed: Kale in the shaft, Blake up above, her decision would not have changed. It truly was an impossible choice.
Shale fixed Blake with an unrelenting stare. “I won’t let you go.”
“You would deny your queen?” Blake’s expression was one of annoyance, but her eyes were tear-filled, as if deeply touched that Shale had stayed with her.
