The Tangle [M] compelled

His eyes climbed along with the distant silhouette, brow knitting slightly at her haste. Why was she rushing upward so carelessly? Dread pooled in his stomach. He wanted to look away. He found he couldn’t.

Then another trill sounded, directly overhead. Cambria glanced up at Wyvern winging past. As her shadow flitted over his pale face, he heard a distant thud. His two-toned gaze immediately dropped to the promontory again, where there was no sign of the climber.

He resisted an impulse to rush forward. If she had fallen, she was either horribly injured or dead. Either way, there was nothing Cambria could do for her. Yet another shriek from Wyvern rang in his ears as he began to turn back toward the tangled undergrowth.

But as much as the Dragonling tried to quit caring about anyone but the bird, he couldn’t help it. Gritting his teeth, he pivoted again. Wyvern flew ahead, leading him toward the slumped figure at the foot of the rockery. There was blood everywhere, the smell of it so thick it coated his nose and mouth.

He froze, heart pounding as he stared at her broken body in horror. He didn’t move even when the nightjar alighted on the slope of his spine. Cambria just stared at the splattered corpse, regretting his decision to come here, especially when it slowly dawned on him that her scent beneath the gore was familiar.

When she suddenly gasped and lurched, Cambria did the very same. Wyvern launched off his back with a squawk. His bladder loosed its contents, hot urine running down his inner leg.