Page 79 of A Highland Bride Forgotten
“Arya!” she screamed. “Colby!”
She received no answer; only more screams that pierced her ears like glass shards.
River tried to gather her wits about her. She was of no use to anyone, not even herself, if she remained there, bound on the bed, and so she worked on freeing her hands first. She twisted her right wrist, brought her fingers together to narrow her hand, and she tried to escape the rope once more, only for it tohold fast again. A desperate sob crawled up her throat, but she quickly swallowed it down. She couldn’t let weakness defeat her. The children ended her now more than ever.
Straining as much as she could, River finally managed to get ahold of the rope with her teeth. She pulled at it, neck muscles screaming as she did her best to pull her head back and loosen the rope—until it finally gave and her wrist slipped free of its bonds. Relief washed over her, but it was momentary when the flames reached the wall behind her bed. Before she knew it, the entire canopy had caught fire, and the black, thick smoke from it filled up the room. Breathing became harder by the second, the flames and the smoke burning her throat, every breath a gasp. With a trembling hand, she reached to the other rope, which was attached around her left wrist, and tugged at it desperately, eager to finally be free. In her panic, it was difficult to undo the knot. Her fingers slipped on the surface again and again, finding no purchase. Every breath she took was labored and only served to heighten the nausea, making her dizzy and weak.
But Arya’s and Colby’s screams still filled her ears and she would do anything to get to them—anything it took.
River’s eyes stared at the flames as they came closer and closer to the bedsheets. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, rattling her ribcage. She waited, and then she waited some more—and then the flames licked the rope, setting it on fire. The heat spread over her skin, threatening to burn her, but River was quick to snatch her hand back, slapping at the end of the rope to put it out.
The moment she was free, she jumped out of bed and threw the door to the sitting room open. There, thick smoke hung in the air and an orange blaze glowed all over the tapestries, the curtains, and the furniture. River fell low, squinting her eyes to avoid the worst of the smoke, her hand automatically moving to cover her nose and mouth, though there was little to be done. In the chaos of the fire, River saw Arya and Colby in the middle of the room, clinging onto each other as they screamed for help, trapped by the flames.
“Arya! Colby!” she shouted, and they turned to look at her with wide, tearful eyes. The poor things were terrified. River frantically searched for a way out for them, any path that was not consumed by the fire, but she found none. Instead, she found a chair and grabbed it, bringing it close to the flames and reaching out with her arms.
“Come!” she called to them. “Come, grab me hands. Daenae fear, I’ve got ye!”
Arya nodded at Colby and urged him to grab River’s hand first. The boy approached the flames fearfully, hesitating, but when his hand found River’s, his grip was sure and tight.
With a grunt, River lifted him over the flames and set him safely on her side of the room. The moment she knew Colby was alright, she turned back to Arya, offering her hands to do the same.
But Arya was larger than Colby, heavier. She had grown a lot recently, and manoeuvring her out of the fire was much harderthan she had anticipated, no matter how much she tried to force her arms to lift her.
River saw in Arya’s face the moment when she realized she couldn’t do it. Fear gripped her, her cheeks paling, losing their usual color. But behind the terror, there was a determination, as if she had come to terms with her fate.
“Save him!” Arya pleaded. “Please, River! Just save Colby!”
“I’m nae leavin’ ye here! I’m nae leavin’ ye, Arya, so daenae even ask!”
She had to be mad to leave Arya there. No matter what it took, River would save her—even if it meant giving up her own life.
It isnae only yer life now. Ye’re carryin’ a life within ye.
The thought struck her suddenly, but it was true. Of course it was. River had another life to worry about now other than her own, and she couldn’t simply sacrifice herself.
But she couldn’t let Arya die either.
“Give me yer hands!” she called again, and though Arya looked at her with a puzzled expression, she did as she was told. River drew in a deep breath that burned her nose and throat, the smoke choking her. She gripped Arya’s hands as tightly as she could, and then, with all the strength that she had—and with some she didn’t even know she had—she pulled.
She lifted Arya just enough to get her over the flames, the bottom of her dress fluttering over the fire. The moment she was safe, Arya pulled River close, sobbing against her shoulder, and River held onto her with all her might, never wanting to let go.
“Layla,” Arya said, looking frantically around them.
“What about her?”
“She’s here,” said Arya, her voice rising, the words coming in short puffs of breath. “She’s here, River, she was here, with us. She has to be here.”
“Alright, alright,” River said, nodding firmly as she looked around. “I’ll find her. Ye go now. Go, get out of here.”
“We’re nae leavin’ ye,” said Colby, but River would have none of it. She grabbed Arya in one hand and Colby in the other, and she dragged both children to the door, shoving them out of the room.
“Go! Run!”
Then, she turned around to find Layla.
“Layla! Layla!”
River called her name again and again, but she got no response. Once again, she moved lower to the floor, and she began to crawl around, looking for Layla amongst the flames.
