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He fought to stay awake but couldn't muster the energy.
It seemed like an instant later when he felt someone grasping his shoulder, shaking him gently.
He woke to pain. And grim reality.
"We have to move. The area is clear now," Rinna told him. "But when the soldiers find the trap is empty, they will search for me. I don't know how long they will look in that area or when they will come back this way."
Questions bubbled inside him, but he didn't have the strength to voice them. And he certainly couldn't sustain any kind of discussion.
She helped him to his feet, and he leaned on her again as they staggered forward. But they were still in the open when the leg that had been mauled by the metal teeth began to shake. He tried to take another step, but the knee buckled under him, and he sank to the ground.
"Get up," she ordered, her voice sharp and commanding.
"I can't." He looked up at her. "Go on. Save yourself. You don't have any obligation to me."
When she stepped away from him, he thought she might be taking his advice.
Then she was back, lifting his hips and slipping something that felt like a thin sheet of plywood under them. The wood sc.r.a.ped his flesh, and he wondered if he'd have a b.u.t.t full of splinters when they got where they were going.
Before he could protest, she started to pull, dragging him like a sack of coal on a makeshift sled, with his legs dangling ignominiously behind him.
If there were any way he could have climbed off the piece of plywood and staggered along under his own power, he would have done it. But he'd used up the last of his strength.
He looked over his shoulder to see where they were going and saw another wall of rock.
Once again, it looked like they couldn't possibly get through the solid barrier. But she pressed her hand against the rock face, and it wavered. Then she pulled him forward. He felt resistance, but Rinna dragged him through, then let him flop onto the ground.
"Stay put. I'll be right back."
Yeah, right. He wasn't entering a dance contest anytime soon.
He saw her grab a broom made out of twigs that was propped beside the doorway. The opening hadn't closed behind her. As he watched, she hurried out and begin sweeping the dirt back and forth, disguising the marks of where she'd dragged him into this shelter.
Looking around, he could see it was a cave with rough rock walls and a ceiling about tea feet high. Some of it seemed to be a natural cavity in the hillside, but there were places where the walls loo teed like they had been chipped away to enlarge the opening.
Water gurgled in the background. An underground stream?
He was still focused on Rinna when a shuffling sound from the back of the shelter made him realize he wasn't alone.
Turning his head, he saw a man with wild gray hair, a wrinkled face and stubby legs sticking out from beneath a short tunic made of animal skins.
The clothing made him look like a prehistoric man. But the knife in his hand was steel-and pointed directly at Logan's throat.
CHAPTER FOUR.
NAKED AND ALONE, Logan returned the old man's malicious stare.
Gathering every drop of his remaining strength, Logan waited until the attacker was almost, on top of him, then he rolled to the side, slashing out his arm as he moved.
He hit his a.s.sailant in the side of the head, and the man growled something that sounded like Carfolian h.e.l.l as he fell back a couple of steps. Logan tried to scramble back toward the door where Rinna had dragged him inside. But the man caught up with him, the knife raised to strike.
The best Logan could do was kick out with his good leg. But his feeble efforts only deflected the blade, which came down on his naked shoulder, slicing into his flesh like hot fire and drawing blood.
As the man swooped in for another thrust, Logan rolled across the stone floor with his attacker in full pursuit. He came slamming up against a wall, panting hard.
The knife was inches from his throat when a shout from the doorway stopped the action.
Rinna leaped into the room. "Haig, no!"
The old man stared at her. "How did he get in here? What in the name of the G.o.ds is he doing in this cave?"
"I brought him through the portal. Then in here. He was caught in a trap that Falcone set for me," she answered.
"You should have left him there!"
An expression of horror contorted her delicate features. "How can you say that? You're the one who taught me that the strong have to help the weak."
"He's not weak! He's well-fed and well-muscled. I'll wager he never went without a meal a day in his life."
"He's sick-from the trap." She gave Logan a good look and gasped. "You cut him!"
He made a grunting sound. "He fought me."
She advanced on the old man. "Put down the knife."
He glared at her, then dropped the weapon to the stone floor with a clatter.
She gave him one more warning look, then ran to the back of the cave. A minute later, she came pelting toward them, still barefoot. But she had pulled a tunic over her head. She also held a tray with a basin of water and a white cloth.
Kneeling beside Logan, she began to wash the shoulder wound. He winced.
"Sorry. I need to see how deep it is," she told him.
The old man was speaking again. "It could be a trick," he insisted. "Falcone could have sacrificed one of his men."
"He's a shape-shifter. That's why he's naked. I had to help him change to get him out of the trap."
"You helped him?" the old man breathed.
"Yes."
"That's an unacceptable risk."
"I'll be the judge of that." She spared him an angry glance.
"You shouldn't have left him in here. How was I to know he was okay?"
"Because I had to open the door to let him in. Now stop arguing, Haig." She turned back to Logan. "Come on."