Free Echoes From the Mist by Blayne Cooper

crumbled to the floor.
    Bridget shakily stood, falling backwards several steps as spots swam before her eyes. She looked up into Faylinn’s fear-filled eyes and slowly extended a trembling hand.
    Faylinn felt her heart clench painfully in her chest. She put her hand over her quivering lips as she choked back a sob. But it was no use. There was no stopping the outburst of raw emotion that sprang from her – grief mixed with overwhelming joy and relief. The blonde woman rushed across the room, flying into Bridget’s waiting embrace. "You’re not a ghost," she cried softly, her words muffled by Bridget’s damp cloak. Hot tears coursed down her cheeks as she wept. "You’re alive." She clutched at the taller woman helplessly, still unwilling to believe what was before her eyes – in her arms.
    "I’m here," Bridget pressed her cheek against Faylinn’s fair hair. Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest and she was shaking. ‘I must think,’ she told herself desperately. ‘I cannot fall apart now or pass out. ’
    A wave of dizziness assaulted her and Bridget grabbed Faylinn’s hand. She took a moment to press it to her lips, then pulled her out of the room, stumbling a little. She consciously didn’t look back at the body lying in the center of the room, its lifeless, gray eyes glittering dully in the candlelight.
    There was no time to lose.
    They limped down the dark corridor and turned several corners before stopping. "We’ve got to hurry. Elizabeth…" Bridget paused, a stabbing pain in her belly robbing her of speech.
    "What is it?" Faylinn worriedly grabbed Bridget’s twisted arm, and the dark-haired woman bit her lip and moaned, her eyes widening. Faylinn yanked her hand away as though it had been burned and took just a second to examine Bridget’s arm, then her face. She felt compelled to state the obvious. "You’re hurt." ‘Badly hurt,’ her mind whispered.
    Bridget nodded quickly. "I know. There’s something wrong…" she laid her good hand across her midsection, "inside…"
    Panic tinged Faylinn’s eyes. "Let’s go back. Afia—"
    "No," Bridget cut her off. "She can’t know what happened. Afia… she must know nothing or surely that evil brat Elizabeth will read her mind. The less the slaves know the better. For their own safety."
    "But—"
    "Come away with me…" Bridget pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. "Off the island. Away from this place forever… I… I— "
    Faylinn placed two fingers gently against Bridget’s cracked lips. "Anywhere. Anywhere as long as we’re together."
    Bridget swallowed hard. "We won’t have money or—"
    "I’ll have everything I need," Faylinn interrupted seriously. She wrapped Bridget’s arm around her shoulder for support again, needing to do something to help. "I can’t believe you’re here. I must be dreaming," she whispered.
    Bridget clenched her teeth at the shift in positions, but was instantly grateful to have something to lean against. She quickly assured Faylinn that her presence was very much real and then warned, "But we need to go. Not in a few days or hours, but now, before everyone awakens."
    "I’ll get my cloak." Faylinn made a quick inventory of the jewelry she could stuff in her pockets while in her room. They’d need to sell it.
    "Good idea. I’m afraid it’s raining." Her words were full of regret. "I’m sorry you’ll get wet." Bridget smiled weakly and Faylinn burst into tears again.
    "I don’t care about the weather, Bridget!" she sobbed. "You’re alive." But Faylinn knew Bridget’s injuries were serious. She could feel the heat pouring off the taller woman’s skin and was unerringly reminded of Henry and the fever that had so recently stolen his life. She closed her eyes tightly, increasing her hold on Bridget, refusing to let her go.
    "Faylinn."
    The younger woman’s grip grew desperately tight.
    "Faylinn," Bridget repeated patiently. "We have to go, dearest. And it must be now."
    Faylinn sniffed and wiped the tears from