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shoulder, then reached back for her.
Elaine gripped his hand tightly. He flexed his arm, lifting her up. She could
feel his wrist trembling with the strain, but he never hesitated. When she was
even with the window, she grabbed the sill with one hand, helping him lift her
to the window. With one hand, he pulled her through, the other hand tight on
the sill.
He tucked her against him. Elaine looked down into emptiness. The roof went
almost straight down to the street below. Snow fell, swirling into the
blackness. Her boots scrambled at the icy roof. Only
Blaine's arms kept her from falling.
"Can you climb up above the window?"
She tried to swallow her heart back into her throat. She couldn't breathe,
staring down into the swirling darkness.
"Don't look down, Elaine," Blaine said. "Look at me."
She raised her gaze to his face. He was close enough that she could see the
whites of his eyes, the pulse pounding in his throat. He wasn't much happier
up here than she was. Due to an unfortunate incident involving a dragon, both
twins were afraid of heights.
"Can you climb up onto the eaves?" His voice was calmer than his wide eyes.
She looked up. There was a little projection over the attic window, just big
enough for her to sit on if she were very careful.
"Yes."
"Do it. I can't hold us both much longer." His voice was still calm, but there
was an edge of strain to it.
Elaine reached for the eaves. The clay ties were so cold it hurt to touch
them, but she was glad she had no gloves on. She needed every bit of gripping
ability she had.
She let go of Blaine, putting both hands on the slick tile, trusting him to
hold her legs, to not let her fall. If he lost his grip now, they were both
dead.
She stiffly clutched the roof. "I need one leg free, but don't let go."
He loosened his hold on her legs. "I won't let go."
She put one foot on the windowsill. Now was the scary part. For her to put
both feet on the sill, Blaine had to let go. She stood for a moment, hands
digging into the tile, feet solid on the sill. She heard Blaine sigh when he
had only his own weight to support.
Elaine stood on tiptoe, hands scrambling for a hold. When her fingers felt as
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secure as they were likely to, she braced her feet and crawled upward. She
felt Blaine's hand shove her from behind, and she ended up straddling the
eave's roof. There she sat, relearning how to breathe.
She heard Blaine begin to ascend behind her, and knew she'd have to move.
There wasn't room for both of them. She looked up at the icy, snow-patched
tiles and sighed. She had to move, but she wasn't going to enjoy it.
She crawled to her feet, hands gripping the tile, lifting her an inch at a
time. She could see Blaine's fingers at the edge of the eaves. He gave a
muffled yell, and one hand vanished. He hung by the other.
Elaine went to her knees, reaching for him. She couldn't hold him alone as he
had held her. Even as she moved to do it, she knew they would both fall, and
she was content with that, if the only other choice was to watch him go alone.
The headless zombie had seized Elaine's legs, and its body hung half out the
window. Elaine lay flat on the eaves, giving her brother her arm. He didn't
take it, trying to grab the roof again but failing.
"Take my arm, Elaine, please."
His eyes said everything. "No," was all he said aloud.
She clutched his sleeve and pulled. The zombie clawed up Elaine's body; the
weight tipped. His fingers slid off the tiles. She dug her hands into his
clothing, screaming, "Take my hand!"
The zombie fell out the window, still clinging to Elaine's legs. Elaine hung
for a moment. She tightened her hold, flattening her body along the roof,
fingers digging into the cloth.
Elaine fell, and the cloth ripped. As he dropped away into darkness, he
mouthed her name, "Elaine."
"Elaine!" She lay on the roof, the cloth of his tunic tight-gripped in her
hands. She watched the snow tumble into the darkness and strained to see him.
But there was only black night and the fall of snow.
« »
^
TWENTY-TWO
Tereza lay very still under the blankets. Her raven hair, rich and full as
fur, spread out on the pillow. Her face seemed more lovely and less harsh in
deep sleep, and this was a very deep sleep. Her left arm was bandaged tight to
her chest. The wound had bled and bled until Jonathan began to fear it would
take her life.
Averil had been so badly hurt that the doctor said she might die before
morning. Her throat had been bitten by one of the dead.
The doctor had given Tereza an herbal drink to help her sleep, to keep her
from going out into the night in search of the twins. Only rest, the doctor
said, only rest and time would heal her.
Jonathan sat by the bed, her hand resting in his. Even in drugged sleep, she
held lightly to him. The lamplight wavered, smearing in a wash of gold. The
tears finally fell in silent streaks down his cheeks. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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