by Ruby Dixon
Yulenna shrugs. “I don’t know. Less remote. More…human if that makes sense.”
In a way, it does. I bite back my smile and gesture at the retreating backs of the men. “I guess if they’re all heading off, we’re safe here.” Aron would never leave if I was in the slightest bit of danger. He’s incredibly protective of me.
“I can’t imagine anything can live out here. Can’t you feel it?” Yulenna shivers. “It feels like this part of the world is a dead branch on a tree.”
That’s a pretty apt description. It does feel like that…like a dead area that needs to be pruned away and instead just lingers on. No, it feels creepier than that. It’s like a dead arm that’s rotting and infecting the rest of the body. I shudder.
I pat the woale’s nose and put his feed-bag on him since he seems anxious. The woales always seem to calm down on a full stomach. Hell, maybe I should try that theory myself. I’m getting nervous just looking around at this place, at the ominous tower in the distance, the equally ominous gray lake that seems to have no end to it.
“I guess we should have a look around,” I say to Yulenna. “I’ll feel better doing something instead of just sitting here.”
Yulenna hesitates. I notice she shies away from the water itself, and her face is pale.
“What?” I ask. “What is it?”
“I was talking to Vitar,” she murmurs.
Oh boy. Fucking Vitar. The man says nothing for weeks and then the moment we cross the mountains, he’s the herald of doom and gloom. “What now?”
“He says there are legends of guardians.” She bites her lip.
“What kind of guardians?”
“Not good ones.” When I give her an impatient gesture, she hesitates and then moves closer to me. “Guardians in the lake that prevent those that are unworthy from crossing.”
“Like…sea monsters?”
She shrugs. “Vitar says no one has ever returned to tell of it.”
I consider this, staring out at the water. If anything was full of sea monsters, I don’t know if this cesspool would be it. “Monsters have to eat, right?” I gesture at the gray, still waters. “What could a monster that lived here possibly eat?”
“Travelers,” Yulenna says immediately.
She’s not helping. “No, really. We’re the only ones that have come this way for a while, according to the Novoro keep. So what would it survive on?”
“What if it’s magic? What if it doesn’t need to eat anything other than intruders?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Then it won’t eat us, because Aron’s a god. If the gods in that tower are the fates, they know why he’s coming here. Right? So they won’t send their guardians out to eat him.”
I hope.
Yulenna looks like she wants to argue, but her face goes chalk white. She stares at something over my shoulder, frozen.
Ugh. I close my eyes, not wanting to look, but I force myself to turn around. There, floating in the water, heading towards us in a gentle drift, is a raft. It moves towards us with barely a ripple, and the hair on the back of my neck prickles, because there’s no breeze, no tide, no nothing that could be propelling it.
“Is that what I think it is?” I whisper to Yulenna.
“It’s a raft.”
I know it’s a raft. Of course it’s a raft. It also looks like no raft I’ve ever seen before. It’s flat, sure, and it floats atop the water, but it’s round instead of square, and it’s made entirely of some white, ropy material I don’t recognize. It continues to drift in our direction and then stops just before where I stand.
Creepy invitation or coincidence?
Aron jogs over to where we stand, his gaze on the raft. “I see we are expected.”
I point at the raft. “You expected this?”
“Of course.” He arches a brow at me. “They knew I was coming.”
More arrogance. I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. “Is this safe?”
“Is anything?” Aron gives me an impatient look.
Someday I’ll learn to stop asking him questions.
We tether the woales together, tying the lead to an outcropping of rock. Once they’re set with their food bags, they calm down and ignore us, content to eat. The men arm themselves and carry light packs—all except Aron, who watches them with a lofty expression on his face.
Vitar steps onto the raft first. It dips into the water around his feet, but doesn’t flood, and reminds me of a blanket somehow floating atop the surface. How is that going to hold us? All of us? But I look at Aron and he nods. Vitar holds his hand out to Yulenna, who quickly joins him, looking down in wonder. “It is like stepping atop a cloud,” she calls out to me.
“Goody. I can’t wait.” I watch as the other soldiers step on, Kerren and Markos holding tent poles for some reason.
Then it’s my turn, and Solat—the last one on the raft—holds his hand out to me. Aron growls, and I see Solat blanch.
I slap Aron’s arm. “Stop it already. He’s the one closest to the edge. Everyone knows I belong to you.” I take Solat’s hand and step onto the “raft.” It’s like Yulenna said—it feels spongy but solid. A cloud on the water.
Aron is the last one on and he pulls me close the moment he steps away from the shore. Then, we’re all on the raft, standing around and looking at each other. Slowly, it begins to inch toward the far end of the lake, where the distant pale tower is now ringed by a low-hanging cloud.
Vitar sticks his pole in the water and grunts. “It’s not deep.” He pushes against the pole and we surge forward. Markos does the same, and then we’re moving at a decent rate as they push us forward, stroke by stroke. I notice the poles sinking deeper into the water the farther we move out, but so far, they’re still able to hit the bottom.
We’re close to halfway when something ripples under the raft.
Markos frowns at his pole, stabbing a little harder toward the bottom. “I thought I felt something.”
“In the legends, there is always a test before speaking to the gods,” Vitar tells us solemnly. “Perhaps we are about to be tested.”
Aron blows out an impatient breath. “You are speaking to me, aren’t you? I am a god. Nothing here is being tested but my patience.”
“Oooh, burn,” I whisper.
The others look worried. I notice that Kerren and Solat exchange looks from behind us, and I worry. Are they right? Is this a test?
Vitar pushes his pole deep into the water, silent, then shakes his head. “I don’t mean to be rude, my lord of storms, but you were exiled. They live here. That is different. They could have guardians—”
His pole gives a jerk, and there’s just enough time to see the surprised look on Vitar’s face before it surges forward and sucks him into the water.
The raft ripples in response.
Yulenna screams.
58
“Vitar!” Solat yells, even as he surges forward. Then, Kerren and Markos pull their swords, Markos’s pole slipping into the water.
I lean over and reach for it, because we need oars. I do it without thinking, and just as I grab the end of the pole, I see something pale and snakelike slither under the raft. It pushes up against the center of the raft, and the entire thing capsizes underneath us.
A moment later, I hit the water, and it shocks the breath out of me with how cold it is. It feels wrong, too, thick and heavy, and I claw at my surroundings, trying to find the surface. I’m utterly terrified, my mind full of anacondas and crocodiles and whatever else this world can cook up that will eat us. I can’t breathe, either. I can’t find the surface, and I swivel helplessly in the murky depths, looking for light.
There’s a bright spot below me, and I realize I’m flipped upside down. I turn over in the water, then surge toward the light. I hit the surface and cough, gasping and choking as I suck in lungfuls of air. Confused, disoriented, I squint, wiping water from my eyes. My traveling robes are heavy and with water soaking them, I’m dangerously close to bei
ng pulled under again. It’s cold as hell, and my teeth chatter.
I don’t see anyone, though.”
“F-Faith?”
Behind me, I hear Yulenna’s voice. Oh. I turn around and there she is, clinging to the side of the capsized raft. I swim toward her, even as I hear Markos yell something and Solat responds. I move to the raft and hold onto it. “Where is everyone?”
She shivers and just huddles against the raft, not answering.
I look around, and Kerren is thrashing in the water. For a split second, I think he’s drowning, and I start to move toward him, but then I realize he’s stripping off his armor as quickly as he can. Markos’s shoulders are bare as he stabs at the water with his sword, and Solat dives under with a flash of bare leg.
“Has anyone seen Vitar?” Markos calls out.
“Where’s Aron?” I ask a split second later, realizing I don’t see him anywhere. “Aron? Are you here?”
I count heads in the water. Yulenna. Solat. Markos. Kerren. No Vitar.
No Aron.
“Aron!” I bellow out again, terrified. He can’t die. We’re tied together, I remind myself. I’m his anchor. He’s stuck in this world with me. “ARON!”
“Get the women on the boat,” Markos calls out, swimming toward us. “Hurry, before it surfaces again.”
“What is it? Where’s Aron?” I cry, even as they crawl onto the floppy raft and haul Yulenna up. Kerren reaches for me and I splash at his hand. “I’m not leaving without Aron!”
Another person grabs at me—Solat—and I’m hauled into the raft. “He’s here somewhere,” Solat says. “I promise this, and he’ll be mad if you die on him.”
“Vitar?” Yulenna asks in a pitiful voice.
“Gone.” Markos sounds hollow. “Just…gone.”
She sobs, and I crawl to the edge of the raft, staring into the water. Aron doesn’t need to sleep, so maybe he doesn’t need to breathe, either. Maybe he’s just waiting under the water for us to notice him—
Something white flashes under the boat again and I feel it ripple underneath the flimsy raft.
“Oh shit—”
The raft capsizes again, and back into the water we go.
My mouth and nose fill with water. Coughing, choking, I claw to get to the surface again, but something snags my heavy skirts and tugs me back under. I sail through the water, dragged along by my hem, and I realize dimly even as I claw for the surface that I’m being pulled away from the others.
I’m going to drown. First Vitar, now me.
Then Aron.
Something flashes all around us, and a jolt rockets through my body. The charge rushes through me, like prickling heat, and then it’s gone, leaving nothing behind but an intense, throbbing headache.
Everything goes still.
Something brushes against my legs, but I realize it’s floating past me, toward the surface.
My lungs burn and I swim forward, desperate for air. Darkness swims at the edges of my vision, but then I make it to the surface and gasp, sucking in deep breaths.
The air above strangely feels as heavy as the water below.
“He’s losing his mind,” Solat screams, and he sounds very far away.
Who? I want to ask. Who’s losing his mind?
Something crackles again, even as pain lances through my head. Lightning streaks across the surface of the water, and thunder crashes overhead, so loud and fierce that it feels like it’s right on me.
I know who’s losing his mind. I’m filled with relief even as I’m filled with fear.
Aron. My Aron.
A floating object bumps up against me and then bobs against the surface. It’s a tentacle of some kind, pale and unearthly and made of the same material as our boat. All along the surface of the water, other dead, limp tentacles are gently bobbing to the top, motionless and still.
Lightning crashes overhead again and I fight back a moan. It feels like my brain is being squeezed dry, and I nearly black out with the pain. Red and black dots swarm through my vision, and I struggle to stay conscious, desperate to focus. Something hot runs from my nose and ears. I swipe it away in irritation. Aron.
Where’s Aron?
Hands grab me, fishing me from the water even as the sharp pain racks through me again. What’s happening? Have I been bitten? Electrocuted?
“She’s bleeding,” I dimly hear Solat say, and someone swabs at my face. “Where’s she wounded?”
“It’s him,” Yulenna cries. “He’s going to kill us all?”
I struggle to sit up, because I know she’s talking about Aron. My red, hazy vision won’t focus, but I can barely make out a dark form drifting over the water a short distance away. Not in the water, but floating above it. Wind whips my hair, ice cold, and more thunder rumbles. I watch in shock as Aron—because it has to be Aron floating out there—extends his hands and lightning curls around his palms.
Then, he blasts at the water again. Thunder shakes the boat and the air grows heavy with the force of the lightning.
And this time, I can’t breathe. I’m like a sponge being squeezed of every bit of life. It’s the water in my lungs, I think. The water and the cold. That’s why I’m so weak. Why there’s so much pain. Why it’s so hard to focus.
“He’s pushing the boat forward,” someone cries. “Toward the shore!”
I want to smile with relief. Of course Aron’s rescuing us. He won’t let me die.
But the moment lightning crackles again, my vision goes red—then black—and then I crash with the thunder. My head feels as if it’s splintering. Something tears inside me.
The world goes utterly dark as pain sweeps me away.
Maybe Aron didn’t save me after all.
59
I fade in and out of consciousness. I’m vaguely aware that I’m not quite dead. Not yet.
There’s far too much pain for that. Everything hurts. I whimper, because I want it to go away, to stop hurting me, but it just keeps pounding at my head, determined to split it open. This isn’t a migraine. This is every nerve ending staging a revolt, and the pain is so intense I want to die just to have it end.
Someone touches my back, lifting me up. I can’t see—everything’s hazy.
“Drink this,” a low voice murmurs. Markos. A moment later, I taste hot broth against my lips. I manage a swallow before my stomach churns and I want to die. Even the small act of drinking that makes my body hurt so bad it feels like a mistake. I sag, sinking back into unconsciousness.
“You have to drink, Faith,” Markos says, shaking me lightly. “We have to get something in you. It’s been days—”
“No,” a stern, familiar voice snarls. “You do not get to die.”
A second later, rough hands grab me. It shoots horrible pain through my body, followed by the familiar crackle of sparks that tells me that it’s Aron, and somehow the pain lessens. I’m tucked against a broad chest, my cheek resting against his shoulder, and he strokes my hair.
“You will not die on me, Faith,” he says again, the tone imperious. “I will not allow it.”
“S’not the plan,” I manage, though it really does sound like a good idea right now. I just want to stop hurting. I’m so tired and there’s so much pain. I just want to sleep.
“This is my fault,” Aron says again, stroking my hair so hard it feels as if he’s going to pull it from the roots.
I want to wince, but that requires too much effort. Aron’s heart pounds under my ear, strong and powerful, and I sigh, because I feel better against him, weirdly enough. I still hurt like nothing I’ve ever felt before, but somehow it’s tolerable because he’s holding me. “W…what happened?” I manage to ask. “Boat…”
“I do not know how to swim,” Aron admits in that same imperious tone I’ve come to recognize and love. “So I waited at the bottom, watching. And then I saw it attack you. And it made me…angry.”
I’ve seen Aron lose his temper before, I realize vaguely. Each time, it brought on a flash of his power
s—and a headache for me. “You drained me,” I realize. I’m his anchor and he’s not supposed to use his powers. Somehow he tapped into them and nearly killed me doing so. “I’m your battery and you drained me.”
He holds me close, squeezing me so tight that everything aches. His mouth presses to my brow and his voice is low, so low that I’m pretty sure only I can hear it. “It was my mistake, Faith. I didn’t realize I was hurting you until it was too late. I’m sorry.” He strokes my hair again, then lays me gently back down in the bed.
I want to protest. I want him to keep holding me, because it feels better, but my mind is disoriented. I’m just…so…tired. So I lie back and close my eyes.
Aron’s hand brushes against mine once more, sending that familiar spark through me, and I hold onto his fingers, stopping him before he leaves.
“Did we make it?” I croak out. “All of us?”
“Almost all,” Aron says. “One of the soldiers is gone.”
He doesn’t know his name. “Vitar,” I murmur. It’s important that we remember.
“Yes.” His thumb brushes over my fingers, caressing them. “Rest, Faith. We’ll talk more when you feel better.”
“Did…did they help you?” I ask him. “The fates?”
“Rest now,” he says once more, and then lets go of my hand.
As if a cord has been cut, I fall unconscious again.
60
I don’t know how long I’m out of it, I only know that when I wake up, I’m fucking starving. I’ve never been so hungry in my life. Ugh. I would straight up murder someone for a cheeseburger right about now. My stomach growls as I open my eyes and blink at my surroundings.
“Faith?” A low voice murmurs.
I turn my head, and I’m relieved that it’s tiring to do so, but it doesn’t feel like so much effort that I want to just go back to sleep. I look over at Solat. His jaw is covered in a scruffy almost-beard that wasn’t there before and there are rings under his eyes. At my side in the bed, Yulenna sleeps, curled up in a blanket.
