He moved closer until he was kneeling in front of her. “Now, jokes aside. How are you feeling?” His gaze dropped to her stomach before he placed his open palm there.
“I’m fine. We are fine.” She covered his hand with hers. “Are the other two rapids as bad as this one?”
The levity vanished from Mal’s gaze, and he shook his head. “No. Worse.”
Ianox raised his head and stared at them, terrified. “Worse? We’re going to die.” He lowered his head again and resumed his nasty business.
Malachiax caught the equally terrified expression on Samiah’s face. “Don’t worry. It feels worse than it actually is, especially if you’re not steering the boat.”
“Mal, you’re such a bad liar.”
He pouted, making an adorable face that Samiah couldn’t resist. She leaned down to kiss him, but from the corner of her eye she caught movement, so all she did was give Mal a quick peck on the lips before she turned her attention to her friends.
Femror brought his canoe closer to theirs again. His eyes quickly assessed their group before they focused on Malachiax.
“All good?”
“Yes.” Mal stood up and returned to his bench seat.
Femror nodded and was about to say something else when Lochiana shushed him.
“Do hear that?”
He furrowed his eyebrows and a moment later, his spine went rigid. His reaction alarmed Samiah, and she strained her senses as her eyes scanned the shore. She had to focus really hard before she heard the murmur of hundreds of voices in the distance.
Femror seemed to have focused on one particular spot down the shoreline before he let out a curse. “Blast all the three moons. Fucking Myserians.”
“Where? I don’t see anything,” Samiah asked, but a few seconds later, she was able to see a large group of bedraggled people marching together.
“Quick, everyone hide.” Malachiax dropped to the bottom of the canoe and pulled Samiah with him. She curled into a ball, for there wasn’t much room to lie flat on her belly. She hoped it would be enough.
As they went farther down the river, the sound of the deadly march became louder. It meant either the river was getting narrower or the current was pushing them closer to the shore. Either way, neither option was good for them.
An irritating buzz reached Samiah’s ear. She raised her hand to shoo away the insect when she caught sight of what it was. Shit. A zarpon. Nasty little buggers with a stinger the size of her finger. The last thing they needed was to be stung by it. The side effects usually varied from mild fever to hallucination, hindrances they couldn’t afford. The insect mercifully flew away and Samiah refocused her attention on the sound of the Myserians.
“Aargh!” Ianox screamed from his side of the boat so loud that even the fishes downriver heard him.
“Shut up, you idiot,” Samiah shout-whispered.
“I just got stung.”
For all the Sacred Powers. It had to fucking be him.
“By what?” Malachiax asked.
“A zarpon,” she answered, and Malachiax cursed out loud.
Samiah noticed then that the sound of footsteps nearby had stopped. With her heart stuck in her throat, she raised her head to take a peek. The entire mob of possessed Arcadians stood still and had their gazes fixated on their canoes. Samiah covered her mouth to suppress a gasp. They all had deep, bloody gouges on their faces and arms, and were covered in soot.
Seconds went by before one of them let out an animalist cry that was answered by the rest.
“Fuck!” Malachiax went back to his seat and grabbed the oars.
Samiah sat back up as well and saw that Femror had done the same. They had to get out of there fast. Some of the Myserians jumped into the water and attempted to reach their boat, but for whatever reason, they were drowning instead. Maybe the Myserians didn’t know how to swim. But if their hosts died, those wraiths would come after them and, Samiah realized grimly, the adrenaline from the ride had killed the Razor’s Blood effect.
“Faster, Mal. Faster,” Samiah urged.
They were going through a narrower part of the river now, and up ahead was a tree with branches that hung above the water. They would have to cross right under it. Some of the deranged people had taken note of that as well and made a run for it. Femror’s canoe passed under it right before a Myserian reached the lower branch and jumped, narrowly missing.
The next Myserian who jumped didn’t miss the mark and landed right between Malachiax and Ianox, who screamed at the top of his lungs and cowered in the corner, leaving Malachiax to fend for himself. He managed to keep his balance as he dove to the right to miss the punch aimed at his jaw. He then hit the possessed man hard with the oar, throwing him overboard.
Samiah was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she was grabbed from behind and pulled off the canoe and underwater. She fought to get free from whoever was holding her, but the person had their arms wrapped around her middle. She kicked back with her legs several times until the hold slacked and then she elbowed her way to freedom. She had stayed too long underwater and her lungs were burning by the time she broke the surface. Drawing air in with loud gasps, she searched frantically for her boat. She spotted the small canoe downstream, but mercifully it wasn’t that far away yet. Samiah swam as fast as she could, but when she finally grabbed the boat’s edge, she only found Ianox there, staring wide-eyed at nothing.
“Where’s Mal?”
“H-he jumped after you.”
“No.” Samiah’s heart constricted painfully inside her chest as she twisted around, still holding the canoe, to scan the area close to it. “Mal!” she screamed when she couldn’t see him.
What if he’s drowned? She took a deep breath and prepared to go under again when she heard a loud gasp nearby. “Mal?”
“Sami. Where are you?”
“I’m here.” She swam around and saw him floating on the other side of the canoe, not far away.
“Thank all the Sacred Powers.” He swam to her with fast strokes and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body close to him for a demanding, almost desperate kiss.
Samiah gave in to the emotion as well, shaking.
“Uh, you two should get into the boat,” Ianox said. “I believe the second rapid is approaching.”
Samiah frowned, for the current still felt mild to her. Until it changed suddenly and the canoe lurched forward, making her almost lose her hold. Malachiax quickly helped her get back on board before he followed. He barely had time to retake this seat when they reached the first drop, much steeper than any from before. Samiah widened her eyes when she saw what was waiting for them—a whirlwind of foam and raging waters. Malachiax had been right, the first rapid was child’s play compared to this.
Sacred Powers save us.
Chapter 21
Lochiana’s heart leaped to her throat when a Myserian jumped into the river, narrowly missing their canoe. Femror didn’t miss a beat, just kept rowing them farther away from the shore without a glance back. They picked up speed as the river widened once more. Lochiana couldn’t see if their friends were okay from her position on the front of the boat. She prayed they were.
Despite not being as close to the shore as they were before, the rock formations that jutted toward the river made a perfect platform for the Myserians who still pursued them like demented animals. In fact, a group of five was making a beeline to a protruding rock coming up ahead. Lochiana heard Femror grunt and knew he had seen it as well. She wished she had oars so she could help. The Myserians were getting closer and closer, and she knew they would be able to make the jump into their canoe at the rate they were going. She leaped from her seat and bent over the prow of the boat so she could use her arms as paddles.
“What are you doing?” Femror grumbled behind her.
“I’m trying to help you. We’re going too slow.”
She kept making rowing motions with her arms, not slowing down even when her muscles began to burn from the strain.
The wood from the boat’s edge dug into her chest, but Lochiana pushed that pain aside too. The canoe sped up through the shore’s optimum jumping point just before the first Myserian reached its edge. She heard him let out a guttural scream, and then the canoe was hit by something.
“Tandrum’s wrath! It’s a zarpon’s nest!” Gary yelled.
Lochiana heard the nasty insects before she even turned around. Femror had dropped the oars to fight off the dozens of zarpons that now circled him.
“Get rid of the nest!” she yelled, but neither Femror nor Gary seemed to hear her.
She got to her feet and tried to walk without tipping the boat over. She would have done it on purpose if she hadn’t noticed they had picked up speed. We must be approaching the next set of rapids. Fuck!
“Don’t get any closer!” Femror raised his arm, trying to prevent Lochiana from walking around him.
“I’m trying to help you, you idiot!”
Gary, who had fewer zarpons to contend with, crawled toward the nest. More zarpons flew out as he raised the round shell and threw it to the river. The nasty insects came her direction and Lochiana prepared to be stung to death, but Femror pushed her onto the floor and covered her body with his. He created a protective barrier around her head with his arms, blocking everything besides his own face. He closed his eyes and grunted, his expression twisting into a grimace. Lochiana felt a couple of stings on her arms, but it was nothing compared to the assault Femror was receiving. She heard a loud cracking noise before the boat tipped forward and down. They had reached the second set of rapids.
Femror raised his head long enough to yell at Gary to get the boat under control. Lochiana couldn’t see if the Jackurian had managed it or not, but she guessed not by the way they kept being tossed left and right, hitting rocks harder than they should. At this rate, their canoe would break into pieces.
“Brace yourselves. There’s a big drop ahead!” Gary shouted.
Lochiana felt Femror’s body tighten on top of hers right before the canoe tipped to an almost vertical drop. They hit the bottom with a loud crash and water was suddenly everywhere. Femror’s body was yanked from hers, and she could no longer feel the bottom of the canoe. They had capsized, the current thrashing her body as if she were a rag doll.
Kick your legs, Lochiana.
Her back hit a hard surface, but her hand found some leverage. She held on to it before she could see which way the surface was, then kicked her legs and swam toward it with the last breath of air she had in her lungs. She broke the surface with a gasp, only to be shoved against another rock again. If she kept going like that, she would end up drowning. She tried to scan her surroundings through the white waters, looking for something she could hold onto. She spied a lower, feeble branch protruding from a rock on the other side of the river a little ahead. If she could get across, she might have a chance to pull herself out.
Lochiana took a deep breath before she pushed herself off the rock at her back. She didn’t fight the current; that would have been foolish and impossible. She went with the flow but veered her body toward the other side of the shore. Her plan worked, and she managed to cross the wild river. Now she couldn’t miss her chance. When the branch came within reach, she made a grab for it. Her wet hands curled around the slick branch, fighting for a secure hold. Ultimately losing her grip, she would have gone downstream if the sleeve of her tunic hadn’t caught the branch. That gave Lochiana the chance she needed to get a better grip of the wood. She was thankful for her natural dexterity and years of physical training as she pulled her upper body over the limb before she threw her leg over, mounting the log. Once she was certain she had a good hold, she raised her upper body and searched the river. Where were Femror and Gary?
She saw an arm covered in scales shooting out of the water in the distance and Lochiana didn’t waste any time—she had to save Femror. She crawled back on the log until her feet touched firm land, then took off in a sprint, following the river. She tried not to lose sight of Femror, who seemed to have his head above water, at least. Please don’t drown; please don’t drown.
She found another jutting section ahead and realized it was now or never. She needed to get Femror out of the river before he lost the fight against it. But he was coming down right in the middle of it, and to get to him, Lochiana would need to venture back into the river again. She noticed the current wasn’t as strong there. This must be the last stretch of the rapid. She eyed Femror’s bobbing form approaching and stepped into the river, realizing she was in a shallow section; the water didn’t go above her waist when she reached the middle. Despite that, Femror was coming down hard and fast, and he was a big male. He collided with her and Lochiana had trouble maintaining her balance. If she fell, it would be game over for the two of them. She dug her feet into the soft sand and bent her knees, locking them tight. Biting her lower lip, she curled her arms around Femror’s torso and began the slow process of dragging him to the shore.
“Come on, warrior. A little help here would be appreciated,” she grunted as her muscles strained with his weight.
He blinked in her direction, but there was no recognition in his gaze. Shit.
When she finally reached the shore, her legs gave out and she fell next to him. Femror coughed and grimaced at the same time. He hadn’t drowned, but his face and most of his torso and back were covered in awful-looking blisters. The zarpons’ stings.
“Femror, can you hear me? Open your eyes.” Lochiana shook him gently.
He turned toward her voice, and when their gazes connected, she felt something shift in her heart. He raised his hand to caress her cheek, but then his eyes rolled back into their sockets and he started to shake. Lochiana grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard.
“Femror! Wake up, wake up.”
“He’s gone into anaphylactic shock,” a woman’s voice said from nearby. Lochiana whipped around to find Chrysa, Femror’s sister, standing not too far from the riverbank, and next to her, a half-drowned Gary.
Lochiana didn’t have time to rejoice in seeing Gary alive or ask how Chrysa had gotten there. She was losing her mind with worry. The words “anaphylactic shock” kept bouncing in her head as fear gripped her heart and squeezed unmercifully.
Femror was going to die.
Chapter 22
“Hold on tight. This is going to be a bumpy ride,” Malachiax yelled over the loud roar of the raging river.
Samiah barely had time to loop her hands through the cord around her bench seat when their canoe tipped dangerously forward and went over the first steep drop. She curled into a ball and screamed as they fell. The impact rattled her bones and a loud crash reverberated in her ears. Cold water invaded the canoe, hitting her skin without mercy; it felt like small pebbles had been thrown at her. She unfurled from her fetal position and faced the river once more.
Another drop came, but that time she decided to stay upright. Their canoe made an awful cracking noise as it hit a boulder, and Samiah clenched her jaw hard. We are never going to make it, she thought in despair. She noticed they were going straight toward a big rock formation smack in the middle of the river. If they hit that at full speed, they would be done for.
She looked over shoulder and pointed ahead. “Mal, watch out for that boulder.”
“I see it.” The muscles on his neck bulged as he strained to make the canoe veer off the collision path. They dashed close to another smaller rock, and Samiah didn’t think twice; she leaned over the side of the boat and pushed against the slick surface as they zipped by it, almost falling into the water in the process.
“Samiah!” Malachiax screamed at her, but her risk had paid off. The canoe veered to the right just enough to miss the boulder.
There were no more close calls, and before Samiah knew, they had gone through the second rapid. Her pulse still pounded in her ears as she sagged on her seat and let out a loud exhale. She heard the sound of oars hitting the wooden floor before Malachiax’s arms were around her shoulders
and his warm breath fanned near her ear.
“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again. If you had fallen—”
“But I didn’t and we’re safe now.”
“Sami…,” Malachiax started.
“Hey, isn’t that Femror’s boat?” Ianox asked from behind them. Both Samiah and Malachiax turned their gazes to the much calmer river. Samiah’s heart sank when she saw what was left of her friends’ canoe.
“Oh no.” She covered her mouth with her hands.
“Do you think they’ve all drowned?” Ianox asked.
Without answering, Malachiax returned to his seat and took control of the canoe once more. Samiah stood on high alert and scanned the green water. They couldn’t be dead; she refused to believe that. But as they progressed down the river without any sign of her friends, she began to lose hope until movement far down the shoreline caught her eyes. She couldn’t be certain what it was, for bushes and trees blocked her view. She thought at first the Myserians had caught up with them, but as they drew nearer, she recognized Lochiana’s silhouette down the muddy bank, leaning over Femror’s prone form on the ground.
“Mal, you need to row faster. I think Femror is in trouble.”
Malachiax steered the boat toward the shore, and Samiah jumped out before it had completely reached dry land.
“Lochiana,” she said in a low voice, not wanting to draw attention to any danger that might be lurking within earshot.
Her friend turned around, and Samiah caught the tears in her gaze.
“What happened?”
“He was stung by several zarpons. The idiot used his body as a shield to protect me,” Lochiana choked out. Her face twisted into an expression that looked like agony before she glanced at the fallen warrior again.
"Draki are very sensitive to some venoms. A zarpon sting can be fatal if not treated right away," the king's daughter said, and Samiah widened her eyes. She hadn't even noticed her presence, but she was glad to see Gary next to her.
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