She felt placid and solid and normal, and it seemed to Jed she was the only thing locking him down to reality. All the same, he wouldn’t mind terribly if she stumbled, if he fell and was killed beneath her. Someone was riding fast towards him across the rock-strewn plateau, but Jed’s eyes were hot and blurred, and anyway, he didn’t care enough to look. He didn’t know if the rider was friend, foe or indifferent stranger and he’d stopped caring somewhere in the middle of the valley. His mother was dead. He was trapped in a place where he didn’t belong, and the only alternative was a place where he didn’t exist. He knew he had no chance of getting back to the caverns, that he would never see Rory again, that there was no longer a life much worth living for him. When the other horse drew alongside, Jed didn’t look at it. He didn’t care when the mare’s reins were seized from him. He didn’t struggle when arms went round him and dragged him off her back, straight onto the other horse and into the fiercest hug he’d ever known.
