The storm swallowed the sound. The rain hammered the soil overhead and the wind tore at the trees; the pit devoured her voice like a mouth. The helicopter passed, rotor-thrum moving on without slowing.
Takoda reached up as if she could touch that thinning sound, fingers scraping mud and root, but the wall was slick and steep. She clawed and slid; pain flared and she swallowed it down. The aircraft's noise receded, an unbearable nearness that became distance.
"No…" The whisper broke from her. The hope that had risen so bright and fast faltered, not gone but bruised. She pressed her palm to the earth and closed her eyes. For a long moment she stood there, listening to rain and the fading drone of rotors, trying to find the warmth of the bond between her and Kade.
