Dylan’s foot slipped as he climbed down the cliff of loose, muddy rock and dirt. He cursed under his breath as he grasped the jagged rocks firmly, feeling them rip into his palms. Looking down to see how much farther he was before reaching the lower banks of the falls, he eased himself carefully. He saw Shade jump and could hardly believe she’d done that. He was so enraged; stabbing Blythe had felt almost surreal. It had been only a second after she turned and faced him before he plunged his sword deep into her chest. Her deafening screech filled the air while her warm crimson blood soaked his hands. When he pulled his sword back out, he savored watching her crumble to the ground. Death engulfed her thin body, shriveling it into a pile of ashes.
Reaching the edge of the cliff, Dylan looked down into the misty cloud of river spray but saw no sign of Shade. His blood screamed in his veins as a wave of pain crawled throughout his body, making him hunch over with its intensity. It let him know Shade was hurt, and the blood tie would drag him to her as long as it was in place. The farther he got from her, the more it would hurt.
He cursed under his breath, wishing he had reached her before she plunged into the falls. Glancing back at Blythe’s withered body, or rather her pile of dust, he groaned. At least, the witch dryad queen will not get in the way again. He knelt down, leaned over, and scanned the area for a way down the falls. He didn’t like what he saw; the way was treacherous. Sheathing his sword and tightening the leather straps that held it across his chest, he strengthened his resolve. Unfortunately, this had to be done. He glanced around for the rest of the group, but the fight had pushed inland rather than toward the cliff. He could no longer hear anyone. Damn, there’s no time to be wasted.
He left them behind, afraid to wait too long to see if anyone survived or didn’t, for that matter. He had done well to protect Shade until this slip up. He mentally kicked himself for losing her. His hands burned and stung as he moved along the rocks while warm blood oozed from his cuts where the stone shredded his palms. Dylan gritted his teeth but continued. He could heal later. Right now, getting down in one piece was the top priority. When his feet were firmly planted on the slick, muddy banks, he scanned for any signs of her, but there was nothing that surfaced in the water or on the surrounding banks.
She has probably drifted away downstream, he thought. He ran as carefully as he could on the slippery rocks, splashing in small puddles and muddying up his boots to the knees. He didn’t care. He had to find her, no matter where she was.