“Mary, you shouldn't watch this.” It's Harry, his voice low, a gentle murmur as he comes to stand over me.

“No, I will not leave him!” I stand and take the rope in my hands as if I can pull him back, lift him up away from the horde below.

The rope quivers under my grasp, vibrations from Travis's jumping muscles echoing through every strand. I want to close my eyes and push myself to Travis, to be there by his side and pull him back myself.

But I know that it would be useless for me to go after him. The rope would snap under our combined weight and we would both die.

I look out at him, trembling like bait cast out in the water. “Travis.” My voice still thrums like a growl, not allowing any dissent. “Travis, you will listen to me! Forget about the Unconsecrated, forget about the rope. Forget about everything but my voice. Close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

He doesn't do what I tell him to do and I snap at the line with my fingers. “Do it!” I yell louder than I have ever yelled in my life.

His eyes immediately close. “Now, I want you to reach out toward me and grab the rope.” I watch as his hands slowly begin to move. Infinitesimally at first and then with more confidence.

“Yes, good job, keep coming,” I reassure him as he moves his other hand closer to us. The rope begins to sway with his movement and under my own fingers I can feel it give just a little as more fibers unravel, as it loses more tension.

“Faster, Travis. Move a little faster.” He's sweating now but he nods his head and soon he's pulling himself up the valley of the line.

The Unconsecrated are in a fervor beneath him as blood slides from his ankle, down his calf and drips from his knee. The moans are a physical force rolling over us all but still Travis moves closer.

Behind me I can feel the tension in Harry and Jed as they watch, as they chant Travis forward under their breaths, afraid of voicing their hope and breaking his concentration.

“Help him!” I say to them and they move as one to where the rope crests the platform and they are there when Travis comes within reach.

Finally, Travis is safe on our side of the chasm and I collapse from the lightness of it all.

It's dark when I wake up. I am alone in a bed, piles of covers almost suffocating me. I start to fight my way through them when I feel fingers caress my cheek. I close my eyes against the familiar sensation.

“You made it,” I whisper, raising my hand to cover his. I feel my body sink back into the bed with relief.

And then I remember. “Your leg,” I say, struggling to sit up.

He pushes against my shoulder, his touch light but insistent, pushing me back into my warm nest of blankets. But I resist and stay seated. “It's fine,” he assures me. “A few scratches.” He chuckles under his breath. “She had nails, sharp nails.” In the dim light I watch as he shakes the memory out of his head. His face looks a little drawn, his eyes tight with a twinge of desperation.