She still had her treasures, safe in a hidden pocket; a whistle carved of bramblewood, two ivory dice, a marble that changed color when it moved, a slender bit of iron bent into an intricate knot, a pouch full of tiny, dry purple leaves, a bone needle that was threaded with nine strands of her hair, and of course the Rose. It was her compass and her gatekey, the token she used to open the Ways Between Worlds, and it was still there - her finger was smudged with red fading to brown, drying blood where a thorn had caught on questing skin.
Keeping tight hold of her gifts, she stared at this last bridge, suddenly unsure. There were other ways, other means, this plan might prove as foolish as the Daren Knights feared... but she had chosen this path. Now, now when time was almost run out, she hesitated, drawing a last deep breath before speaking the invocation of crossing, summoning up the last of her strength to brave this final challenge.
"Heaven help us, bone and blood, metal and stone, wind and rain and all," she whispered finally. One more bridge, and she would be home.
- - - - - - - - - -
...yep. Story fragment, music in my ears, and DAMMIT I still get no sleep. What the fuck is up with this?