They walked for a long time, if she’d done this straight after arriving from town, Eleanor wasn’t sure she would have made it halfway without misery and blisters. Finally, the path began to run beside a gully, containing a stream that Cadan said was the same one running past the village. He found a suitable spot and scrambled down the bank to the side of the water and turned back to help Eleanor down.

She scrambled and slid and wished she hadn’t worn her nicer gown for this outing. She reached the flat ledge by his side and tried to brush off the worst of the mud. Cadan didn’t notice, he was too busy peering down the gully. He held out his hand. “It’s not far, just through that narrow bit and then we’re there.”

Eleanor looked. ‘That narrow bit’ was a crack through a huge outcrop of granite, barely wider than Cadan’s shoulders, and twice his height, with steep, craggy sides, over fast-moving black water. “If this is what you call ‘awkward’, I don’t ever want to see what you think of as difficult.”

He turned back to her. “It’s much easier than it looks. We can go slowly and if you go in front, I’ll see if you’re about to go wrong. I’ll talk you through it and it’s worth the effort.”

She was here now, and her calm, even-keeled Cadan was all but fizzing with enthusiasm. “Alright, show me where to walk.”

He helped her edge past him, then put a tentative foot onto the first small ledge in the crevice, Cadan almost on top of her, murmuring instructions and encouragement.

It really wasn’t as bad as it had looked. Not quite. Cadan was the best part of a head taller than her, so an easy reach for him was a terrifying stretch for her. By about halfway, she thought she was starting to get a feel for it, by two thirds, she was unwillingly enjoying the challenge.

That was when Cadan’s voice changed. “Nora, we need to hurry. Can you see where to step and hold from here to the end?”

“I think so.”

There was an edge of terror in his reply that had her heart racing. “Good, then go.”

She raced forward, blood pounding. What was happening? Cadan was all but breathing down her neck as the end of the chasm drew closer. She raced for it, leaping from tiny rocky ledge to jutting crack. There! And the path opened out again, not wide, but enough and she paused to take a look at the prettiest forest pool she’d ever seen. Deep and quiet, a few late blooms still clinging to plants edging the water.

Cadan didn’t stop. He grabbed her, his arm around her waist and all but threw her up the bank beside them. It was nearly as steep as the passageway they’d left, but soil rather than rock, and he grabbed at vines and roots, then low branches as he scrambled and pulled and hauled them both up the slope to a ledge, mostly rock, but with enough soil at one end to anchor a large oak.

She tried to help, scrabbling and grabbing at sinewy protrusions. She had no idea what was driving him, but his raw fear infected her and lent strength to her grip. Then she heard it. Or realised she’d been hearing it for some time, a crashing, fury-filled roar getting louder and closer with every heartbeat.

Cadan wedged the pair of them into the narrow space between the cliff and the oak and shielded her with his body. “Dam burst.”

She wasn’t sure what that was, but this was no time for questions. She pulled him closer into the little niche he’d found for them and gasped as something hit the rocks they’d just come through with a teeth-juddering smash, followed by grinding, splintering sounds, so loud she could barely think.

An even louder crack sounded and the roar began again, thundering through the gap and exploding out into the tranquil pool in a rain of filthy water, splintered branches, stones and she didn’t want to know what else.

Chaos rained down on Cadan’s perfect hideaway for what felt like hours. Cadan winced as flying debris bounced around them but he didn’t budge an inch. Finally, it passed, the roar fading into the downstream distance, leaving an eerie, wounded quiet behind.

Cadan cocked his head, listening. “It’s through.”

Then he collapsed, heaving for breath, curling in on himself.

Eleanor wriggled into his arms as he rocked and clung. He pulled her close, arms so tight it hurt. “We nearly died, Nora. I nearly killed us both. I nearly killed you.”

She wrenched her arms free, grabbed both sides of his head, pulled it to hers and kissed him. Cadan froze, then began kissing her back, leaving her mouth to pepper her face with them, then returning to her lips.

He broke away and took a deep, sobbing breath, then buried his face in her neck, she pulled him close. “I’m supposed to take care of you. I should have thought, should have realised the river wasn’t as high as it should be. I failed you Nora, I’m so sorry.”

Eleanor tweaked his hair to get his attention. “Cadan Rangersson, we are both alive and in more or less one piece. That is not failure. You realised there was danger before I had any idea and got us to safety in time. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He sat up a little, enough to meet her eyes. “I should never have brought us here in the first place. It was so obvious, all that rain and the river only running a little higher than usual. I should have realised there was a blockage upstream. I should have checked it days ago. I should have—”

Eleanor put her hand over his mouth and glared. “Should, should, should. If it was so obvious, why didn’t Matthew mention it? I know you would have told him where we were going today.”

That worked, his breathing calmed as he mulled over her words. Then he gasped. “The village, we have to warn them!”

She ran a finger down his cheek. “And how are we going to get there faster than a rampaging torrent? The best thing we can do right now is worry about us. We’re wet, muddy, and stuck halfway up a cliff and I’m sure you’ve got cuts and bruises from all those things the water was throwing about.”

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