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Quin boosted himself up, grateful for Acyn’s help. he struggled up the wobbling wooden crutch, one inch at a time, toward Qatar’s intense face.

Great. He’ll be even more angry with me, now. “what did you get yourself into now, Little Brother?” He could just hear his brother’s flat voice.

before he was halfway up his arms started to quiver, and his shoulders ached. His legs weren’t much help as he climbed up the crutch.  All his weight relied on his hands.  by the time he reached the top he was sweating. almost unbearable heat was wafting up from below him.

He heard the dog bark, and Sahar and Acyn’s voices. I hope they’re okay. He climbed faster. But his hands were shaking, and he wasn’t sure how long he could hold on. Just then he felt his elbows giving out–his hands, his fingers, ever muscle in his arms refused to move, and started to relax.

No! He just had time to throw one terrified look up at his brother before his fingers lost their grip. he was falling, falling. Qatar’s strong arm flashed over the edge and caught him, and together they pulled him over the edge and onto relative safety.

“Well, little brother!”

Here it comes!

“You sure got yourself into a fix this time.”

Chaos erupted below them. Quin looked down in time to see Locran suddenly vanish, and reappear, carrying the dog. Quin blinked and turned to Qatar. Both of his brother’s eyebrows were raised, staring at the odd collection of people that Quin  had just been standing with.

As Locran and the others climbed to safety Quin did a double take.  I was positive he had a mask on a minute ago…

He set the dog down, and straightened. He was as tall as Qatar, and at least as good-looking, but in a wilder, nobler way. Quin felt his shoulders sag. Strong, good looking, tall. Whole. He wouldn’t let himself think that thought, but it still nagged at the back of his mind, refusing to be ignored.

Locran walked toward them, all of his limbs working just as he wanted them to. on an impulse, Quin crawled behind Qatar, trying to escape the vision of one man he’d argued with by hiding behind the other.

But Locran paused, talking with the girl.

Sahar–is that it? he thought idly as he scooted toward the edge. He couldn’t just stay on the ground forever, and if he wanted to stand up, he needed his crutches.

Uh-oh.

He scrambled to the edge and looked down, just in time to see seething lava wrap itself around the crutch he’d left on the floor below.

now what?

He snatched the crutch that still hung on the ledge, as if it were made of gold instead of brown wood.

He wobbled to his feet, leaning on the one crutch, too absorbed, for the moment, to notice that Locran was walking in his direction.

As he straightened up, his eyes met the assassin’s for the first time since they’d argued. Locran’s face was clear and proud and handsome.

Quin flushed scarlet and looked away.

 

@irishcelticredflowercrown

That was maybe a girly response from a guy, but there’s Quin’s. 🙂