“I can’t do this,” Sam said, panic threading her voice. Hel might be fine with hauling her own body weight up hundreds of feet. Hel was brilliant at things involving monsters and bullets and biceps. But Sam’s biceps were almost entirely decorative. “There has to be another way.” Hel stepped into the basket, hooked an arm around the rope, and leaned out. “Come here.” “I, what—” Sam took Hel’s hand and to Sam’s surprise, Hel pulled her stumbling into the basket with her. The basket was clearly not meant for two—it creaked and swayed pendulously, Sam tightening her fingers in Hel’s sweat-slick
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