Malcolm swallowed hard. When Margo looked at him now, an adult met his gaze. A real adult. Regardless of the number that represented her birthdate. In that moment, he fell in love all over again.
”Malcolm?”
He cleared his throat. “I’d say that’s up to Kit. This is his rescue, I just sort of invited myself along.”
She swung her gaze around. Kit continue staring at Malcolm for another long moment, then bit out, “Yes. And now I see why.” Then he met Margo’s gaze. “The gate doesn’t reopen for five days. If it reopens. The string’s disintegrating fairly rapidly. I’d be very surprised if it opens more than once or twice more before failing completely.
”Kynan Rhys Gower is still at large. The indigenous people in this region are being encouraged to capture and turn him in. Portuguese search parties are out hunting him. The traders are convinced you’re a witch, one of them saw that damned balloon of yours seven weeks ago and now they have your `devilish’ equipment as further damning proof.
”They’ll expect us,” he nodded to Malcolm, “to examine you for witchcraft. Given the circumstances, there’s only one verdict possible. They’ll expect us to proceed quickly with the execution. We’re outnumbered twenty-five to two and they’re heavily armed. More so than I’d feared.”
”And there’s a ninety percent chance,” Malcolm added heavily, “that if we miss the next cycle of the gate, Kit will shadow himself before it reopens the next time. It’s possible he’ll shadow himself as it is.”
Margo just covered her face with her hands. “You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered brokenly. “You shouldn’t have risked it. I’m sorry. I’m not worth it, not even close to worth it “