There was a current dragging him about the legs, and Evander kept pitching sideways with every step, going more off-course the further ahead he tried to move. He could heard Alfred’s voice somewhere behind him, but it was just an indistinguishable roar amidst the rushing water and lashing rain. He could guess at what his brother meant, though. Don’t be an idiot, he would be thinking. You’re not built for this.
Evander knew he wasn’t. The rope went abruptly taut about him, and he was grateful for it, for it was about the only thing holding him in place. He waited where he was, fervently trying to keep still, in hopes Alfred would catch up or find a way over so he could keep going, otherwise he was going to have to cut the rope and leave him behind, because that was Caroline.
And she was probably dead by now, left out here, as unconscious as she’d looked against that wall. She had probably hit her head and bled out by now – the rain was sliding down his cheeks from the repelling spell anyway, but he felt close to sobbing at the thought. He managed to wade out of the surging water again, drenched through in spite of his spells, and, after an impatient tug on the rope to make sure Alfred was still somewhere near, Evander hauled himself over a short stone wall and landed unsteadily on the patio.
She was still slumped where he had seen her, like she had been thrown back against it – she hadn’t moved. “Caroline,” Evander said, faltering as he reached her, horrified. “Help me!” he yelled back at Alfred, running his hands over her to assess her injuries, looking for a pulse. He couldn’t find one, couldn’t find anything, didn’t know what to do if she wasn’t responding to him –
Someone appeared at his shoulder and he gripped Alfred’s arm urgently. “I don’t know if she’s –” he spluttered, unable to finish that thought aloud; “Just help me get her back inside.”
Evander knew he wasn’t. The rope went abruptly taut about him, and he was grateful for it, for it was about the only thing holding him in place. He waited where he was, fervently trying to keep still, in hopes Alfred would catch up or find a way over so he could keep going, otherwise he was going to have to cut the rope and leave him behind, because that was Caroline.
And she was probably dead by now, left out here, as unconscious as she’d looked against that wall. She had probably hit her head and bled out by now – the rain was sliding down his cheeks from the repelling spell anyway, but he felt close to sobbing at the thought. He managed to wade out of the surging water again, drenched through in spite of his spells, and, after an impatient tug on the rope to make sure Alfred was still somewhere near, Evander hauled himself over a short stone wall and landed unsteadily on the patio.
She was still slumped where he had seen her, like she had been thrown back against it – she hadn’t moved. “Caroline,” Evander said, faltering as he reached her, horrified. “Help me!” he yelled back at Alfred, running his hands over her to assess her injuries, looking for a pulse. He couldn’t find one, couldn’t find anything, didn’t know what to do if she wasn’t responding to him –
Someone appeared at his shoulder and he gripped Alfred’s arm urgently. “I don’t know if she’s –” he spluttered, unable to finish that thought aloud; “Just help me get her back inside.”
