Page 19 of Forsaken Secrets

The revyn trilled again and took off over the ocean, leaving the bag behind.

I quickly grabbed it and flipped open the top, the worn leather folding gently beneath my fingers. It was stuffed full of lemon cakes! Hopefully, he had something besides food in there.

I flipped it over so the contents fell to the ground, then rummaged through the pile, carelessly tossing aside items that were of no use.

"Rope. Rope. PLEASE let there be rope!" I muttered.

At the bottom of the pile, sitting partially submerged in a puddle, was a slim stylus worn to little more than a nub and a small sketchbook with bent corners and tan stains along the edges. I grimaced. Hopefully, it wasn't too important.

No rope in sight, though. Gods be damned.

What now?

I sat back on my heels and looked around. Hidden beneath a patch of grass to my left was a small, round object covered in sculpted metal vines. It must have fallen out of the pack when I'd dumped it …

Unable to resist the pull, I grabbed it and gasped as a little pixie undulated beneath the surface of the amber crystal. Something in it tugged at me and I desperately wanted to inspect its korra, but now was not the time.

What was that man doing with an intact relic? Could he be a Reaper?

Jealousy bit at me, and I pushed it away.

I slipped the relic back in the bag and searched the outside pockets for something helpful.

"Just what do you think you're doing, little thief?" A raspy voice came from behind me. I bit my tongue to hold back the shriek bubbling inside, then withdrew the small knife from inside my sleeve and turned to face the intruder.

Sure, the knife was for exploring rather than fighting, but it was something.

Looking at the man standing before me, though, it felt extremely lacking.

He was tall — even taller than me — and scowled down at me with glinting silver eyes. His long chestnut hair fell in tangled waves around his sculpted cheekbones, strong jaw, and wide shoulders. While his clothing was obviously homemade, it was crafted well to fit his muscular body, emphasizing his strong shoulders and narrow hips. There was even a strange sort of leather plating covering his shoulders and chest. An armor of some sort? It almost reminded me of some of the design plates from the war during the Fall.

A grunt brought my attention back to the man's face.

"I'm not a thief," I said, holding the bag up. "The cliff collapsed," I motioned towards the freshly torn soil, "and a man fell with it. This is HIS."

His brows dropped as he looked past me. "Oh, it is? And who might he be?"

"How am I to know? I was simply attempting to find rope so I could rescue him."

He just cocked his head and looked down his long nose at me. "So you say. But how did you plan to get there and bring him back up?"

Gods. This man …

"What reason would I have to lie? I planned to rappel down there and get him, but instead I'm standing here wasting potentially life-saving time arguing with YOU. Are you going to help, or not?"

We stared at each other until he finally narrowed his silver eyes and pulled a coil of rope from his pack.

Triumph made me smile, but lightning struck nearby and I motioned towards the cliff. "We need to hurry."

He grunted. "I can pull you up, but can you climb down?"

I quirked my brow and bent to unfasten my skirts. Cool air brushed the bare legs below my drawers, and my skin prickled.

If only my leathers hadn't been ruined by those damn gremlyns.

"Shouldn't I know your name before watching you undress, little thief?" The stranger's gravelly voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I rolled my eyes threw the clothes towards the tower. "Surely a man's life is more important than my bare legs? I can't very well rappel down a cliff with skirts on!"

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