by Serena Chase
But for the recent nights when he’d held my hand to try and keep the nightmares away, traveling disguised through Shireya had not lent itself to physical tenderness between us. After all, a squire should not receive such attentions from his mentor! The unpredictable discovery of his notes was sweetness itself, but I had missed Julien’s touch.
A tear spilled down my cheek and landed on Julien’s arm. He released his hold to gently turn me around.
The light was much dimmer now that all torches but Erielle’s had been stowed. Julien brushed his thumb across my cheek. “What’s wrong?”
Although opportunities to be held by the man I loved had been few, and each much shorter-lived than suited my fondness for his affection, the memory of each stolen moment in his arms was a comfort only eclipsed by the feeling of being held within them now. I spoke words into his mind so no one else would hear. I have missed your arms.
He smiled and turned me back around. As his arms returned to their place, he whispered in my ear, “As they have missed you.”
“He’s back,” Erielle announced.
With a sigh, I stepped out of Julien’s embrace.
“This is almost like a tide pool,” Risson said, treading water. “But it’s deep. We’ll need to use caution beyond the arch. It leads to a shallow river that has a steady current. The sounds are much louder beyond this chamber. I have no doubt the current, and the depth as well, will increase not far downstream, but there was a curve in the passage and I could not see what lies beyond it.”
Risson went back through the arch and Erielle was the next to enter the water. I had to smile at her spirit. Whereas Risson had allowed himself to gently slide into the mossy pool, Erielle didn’t even hesitate before taking the plunge into the frigid water. She did sputter a little as she came up, but in less than a minute her strokes echoed off the stone walls as she swam through the arch. Dyfnel, Edru, and Kinley followed in quick succession.
And then it was my turn. Rather than imitating Erielle, I chose Risson’s more sedate example and allowed myself to slide into the water. Though I knew it would be cold, the shock of its frigidity nearly opened my mouth. The water closed over my head and I kicked my feet until my face breached the surface again.
I opened my mouth and the foul moss stretched over my lips, so I clamped them shut. Breathing through my nose was no more pleasant. The moss smelled as if boiled cabbage had been mixed with soil and left in a sheep’s pen overnight. It was cold, earthy, and altogether rotten. I treaded water, snatching at the smelly moss and wondering what sort of miracle it might take to remove it from my hair when our adventure was over.
Julien slid into the water beside me and I reached up to catch the lone, unpacked torch Gerrias had held above us.
Now that I had light at my disposal I couldn’t help but laugh when Julien surfaced, covered in moss. Gerrias slid down and came up looking much the same.
I laughed. “You two look as if you’ve been sneezed upon by an ill giant.”
Julien smiled as he wiped the moss from his face. “Might I remind Your Royal Highness that the one holding the torch is the one on whom the light most rests?”
I reached over to cuff his shoulder and started to sink. He put a hand under my arm and took the torch from me before my head submerged.
“I think,” Julien said, laughing, “your arms would better serve you by swimming than by throttling me just now.”
The arch took about ten strokes to clear with Julien and Gerrias close behind me. It finally widened and dumped out into a shallow stream. The rest of our party had unbound their torches and stood shivering in the waist-deep water waiting for us. Without another word we unpacked the rest of the torches and began wading downstream.
The noise in the cavern grew louder by the second and I wondered if our small river would be meeting up with a larger, faster current soon, as Risson had surmised. Every few steps seemed to increase the river’s depth a little more. Soon after we went around the bend I was forced to hold my torch above my head. Erielle, lacking the height to be able to keep her head above water, attached her torch to her belt loop and swam instead.
Sound bounced against the base of my neck. It echoed off the smooth stone walls and through my bones. My teeth chattered with the cold and my limbs stiffened. How long could we withstand the freezing water without suffering ill effects from it?
A sudden current came from the right, taking me off my feet. My head ducked under. The torch began to slide from my fingers. I grabbed its tip with my other hand just before it would have been taken. When I regained my feet, the sting of water having gone up my nose and down my throat was fierce, but I coughed a few times, rubbed my nose as if scrubbing a stain, and moved on.
A precipitous drop met my next step and the depth of the stream reached my neck. I took a few difficult steps back to make movement easier, and secured the torch to my belt. It illumined the water at my waist and gave off some light, but the water was murky, dimming its brightness. By the time I was finished, mine wasn’t the only light stowed. In fact, it was so dark now, that I couldn’t even tell who belonged to which murkily submerged light. But at least each bobbing glow gave me some idea of where everyone was.
My neck muscles soon tired from the effort of holding my head above water, so I took a deep breath and began to swim. The extra movement warmed my muscles some, but I feared the ache in my legs would turn into a cramp. The only thing I could do was continue swimming and be grateful for the current that was increasing its strength as it pushed us along.
Forward, forward. I repeated the mantra, and tried to think of warm things like hearths and steaming mugs of keola while I followed the path of bobbing lights ahead of me. I tried not to think about what would happen if one of my friends should cramp or tire and go under. If anyone succumbed to the cold of the water or the fatigue of the swim I would have no way of knowing or helping. A cry for help would not be heard and the torch light would continue to bob in the current even if its bearer’s face was submerged.
I could no longer feel my fingers and toes, but hoped our swim would end before the numbness stole up my arms and legs.
One light suddenly disappeared.
A wave of dread, colder than the water around me, shivered through my mind. I closed my eyes to concentrate on those closest to me. I sensed Julien, as well as Gerrias, Erielle, and Kinley. My mind stretched a bit farther and found Dyfnel and Edru.
Risson, I thought. Risson’s light is missing.
I sought him with my mind. His colors were intense with sudden shock and struggle, but everything was happening to him so fast that even his mind couldn’t form it into something I could understand.
I opened my eyes. But when I looked ahead, it was only to see two more lights disappear simultaneously. Edru and Kinley.
Princess! Waterfall! Prepare yourself! Edru’s frantic thought found mine.
A waterfall? I almost inhaled part of the river.
I remembered following Sir Gladiel down a treacherous trail beside the steep, multi-level Brune Falls in the Great Wood. Could anyone survive going over something like that? I couldn’t imagine how.
A line from the scrolls tapped against my memory. Take a breath but don’t expel. Brace for descent, ride its swell.
A waterfall. We should have known. I had to warn the others! Closing my eyes, I called out to them.
Waterfall ahead! Ready yourself and hold your breath! I opened my eyes just as Erielle’s and Dyfnel’s lights disappeared.
I was no longer swimming so much as working just to keep my head above water in the strong current. Without warning my feet surged ahead of me, as if someone had grabbed me by the ankles and pulled. I took a huge gulp of air just before my head was dragged under the water by the force of the current.
And then I was falling . . .
Falling!
Thousands of strong, watery fingers pushed me down, down, down. Other than the fleeting hope that whoever had already gone over the falls was o
ut of the way before I reached the bottom, there wasn’t a single thought that could usurp the panic that had invaded my mind.
My back slammed the surface of the water as if it were a metal plank. My legs surged up, but the pounding torrent pushed me deeper and deeper.
My head pounded with the need to release the breath I held. Water pummeled my stomach and chest like a gang of murderous thieves. It took every pin from my hair and ran its claws through my braid, releasing its coil and wrapping my hair around my face as if it wanted to smother me. The force turned and twisted me, shifting my direction to assault whatever part of my body had not yet received its lash.
I could not tell which way was up, down, or sideways, so I just kicked as if my life depended on it. Because it did.
Where is the swell? I’m supposed to ride a swell!
What good was the poetry if it didn’t deliver? Every time I thought I was close to gaining my freedom, the pressure beat me down again. I could not perform even the smallest stroke with my arms, worthless as they were in the onslaught. The extra toweling I wore under my clothing had absorbed water to capacity, weighing me down even more than my pack. The strength in my legs was my only hope of survival, so I kicked until my thighs burned as much on the inside as they were bruised on the outside.
Out of nowhere, a forward current slammed into me from behind. It arched under my back, lifting me up and out of the downward thrust of the waterfall. My hair was dragged away from my face as I surged forward on the current, riding the swell that had been so long in coming. But I was still deep, deep beneath the surface.
I released a small stream of air to give my lungs some relief from the burn that threatened to consume me. I opened my eyes, but the blackness remained as an uncanny reminder that I had no idea if I was kicking myself toward the surface or the depths. Deciding to trust the prophecy, I curved my body in so that my head would lead me along the swell rather than my feet. I pressed my hands together and pushed them apart, each stroke releasing a bit more of the precious breath that could be my last.
Blood pounded at my temples. Nausea threatened my throat. But finally, a faint glow appeared ahead.
A torch!
Dizziness stole my vision. I had little time before I lost consciousness or was forced to inhale water.
I exhaled the rest of my breath and surged ahead, pushing the water behind me with my arms in wide strokes, aiming toward that beacon of hope.
A sudden roar exploded in my ears and air—sweet air!—hit my face. I gasped, taking in equal amounts of water and air, but a sudden cramp pierced my side and I was too battered, too tired, and had inhaled too much water to know how to recover. I went under again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Just as I feared the current would drag me so deep that I would never find air again, something hooked on to the straps of my pack and pulled me up until my face breached the surface. The initial contact from my rescuer was a tad violent in its swiftness, but a gentler hand hauled me the rest of the way to the side, hefted me up, and deposited me on a cold, hard—but thankfully dry—surface.
Gasping for air, I coughed, sputtered, and collapsed on the rock floor.
Princess Rynnaia.
I held up my hand. I couldn’t speak yet. I opened my eyes between coughing fits. Everyone was accounted for. Julien, even, was there. He knelt at my side. How was that possible? I had gone over the waterfall before him or Gerrias. How had they beaten me to the bank?
Princess Rynnaia.
The voice was more insistent, but I couldn’t put a name to it. Water had pressed deep into my ears, dulling my ability to hear. Besides the roar of the falls, I wasn’t sure I could make out a word. My vision blurred. I closed my eyes as my name was called again.
How could I hear a voice so clearly with my ears clogged and the waterfall thundering so strongly behind me?
Blood pounded against my temples as if it would break through my skin. Nausea assailed me in a hot-cold wave. Pushing Julien aside, I crawled to the edge of the bank and leaned over the side of the rock, gagging at the force of the fresh air I gulped into my lungs.
When I finished heaving up parts of the river I hadn’t even realized I’d taken in, Julien pulled me into his arms. Even then, I continued to cough so violently that I feared my chest would explode. My throat burned. My head throbbed as if the hilts of ten swords were being pounded against it at once. I was barely aware of movement when Julien stood and carried me down a passageway and away from the sound of the waterfall.
The coughing gradually subsided. But it was then my body remembered the cold. I began to shake. I drew my arms from around Julien’s neck, pulling them in as if to cocoon myself inside his arms. Julien stumbled when even that meager assistance of carrying me was withdrawn, but quickly regained his footing and tightened his hold.
The sound of the waterfall was muffled by the mountain passage that separated us from it when Julien finally stopped and sat down.
He cradled me in his lap, attempting to warm me, though his skin was nearly as cold as my own.
A random thought surfaced. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for his smelly old bear cloak right now.
“Rub her feet and hands.” Julien’s command was soft as he rearranged my position in his lap. “Get the blood moving again.”
Tremors shook me from head to toe. I bit my tongue and another spasm of coughing robbed me of my breath, but as Julien rubbed my back I allowed his colors to envelope me while I tried to regain a normal cadence of breathing. Other hands joined his, rubbing my legs, arms, even the lobes of my ears.
Princess Rynnaia.
“Who is t-talking?” I pushed away the hands at my ears and rubbed my temples. “Why d-do you sound s-so s-strange?”
“No one has spoken, Princess,” Dyfnel said. He leaned toward Julien. His eyes were filled with dread. “Do you think she hit her head?” His hands moved over my skull.
“N-no,” I said, jerking away. “I didn’t.”
Princess Rynnaia.
“There! There it is ag—” I gasped. “Oh.”
I closed my eyes. Who-who is in m-my head?
It is Harbyn, Your Highness. We are in position at the fortress in Dwons. We are ready to attack as soon as you open the Cobeld-cursed cells.
I-I-I. Even my thoughts shivered. It was hard to concentrate with five different sets of hands vigorously trying to warm my blood. Harbyn. It took me a moment before I placed the name as the half-Andoven horse trainer accompanying the regiments that had been sent to free Uncle Drinius and Sir Gladiel from the Cobeld fortress in Dwons.
Harbyn, can you wait for a m-moment? I just f-fell over a w-waterfall and I’m c-c-cold.
There was a pause in which the picture of Harbyn’s face in my mind trembled to the point that I feared I’d lost the connection, but then it steadied.
Oh, dear! Harbyn’s eyes grew wide. Are you . . . injured?
I’ll be fine. I just need a few moments. I had to wonder if his alarm was due to my statement, my explanation of circumstances, or the bruises still marring my complexion from my run-in with the Cobelds’ yellowhock.
Please let me know when it is safe for us to proceed, Your Highness. We have not yet been detected, but if we don’t act quickly we may soon be.
I-I will unlock the c-cells, I said, as soon as I have changed into d-drier clothes. I-I-I have to b-be able to c-concentrate and I c-can’t do that while I’m shi-shivering like this.
We await your command.
I opened my eyes.
“H-Harbyn is r-ready,” I said.
“No.” Julien’s voice was fierce. “Not now. It can wait.”
“They’re in p-position.” I almost bit my tongue again from shivering. “Now.”
“The timing could be better,” Kinley growled.
“Indeed.” Dyfnel nodded. “We must find a way to warm you, Princess. And quickly.”
“Erielle,” Julien said, “will you be able to help the princess change?”
“Y-yes,” she replied, her own voice quivering with cold. I turned my head. Gerrias had taken his sister into his arms much in the same way Julien now held me. She stood up and shined her torch around the space. “We-we’ll go over there.” She pointed and my eyes followed her gesture to an outcropping of rock that would afford us some privacy.
Julien helped me to my feet and removed the pack from my back. When I swayed a bit he wrapped an arm about my shoulders to hold me up.
“H-how did you get out first?” I asked. “I went over the fall before you did.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I dove and the swell of the water took me immediately forward and up. I think the pressure forced you down instead of out like the rest of us. You were under so long, Rynnaia. I honestly don’t know how you survived.” His voice was husky with emotion as his grip tightened on my shoulder. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Julien kept hold of me as we walked around the big rock where Erielle waited.
I willed myself to stand on my own two feet as he gently set me down. He was barely away when Erielle began ripping at the buttons on her shirt. I followed her example, knowing that I would not be wearing it again anyway.
Erielle used her dagger to cut through the twine that bound my clothes, tightly wrapped in oilcloth that had been rubbed with beeswax to help keep the dampness at bay. Whereas everything else in my pack was soaked, my clothes were only slightly damp.
“I can do this,” I said. “You get your own.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and she moved to retrieve her own similarly packed clothing.
With my extremities numb and shaking, it was no easy task getting dressed, especially considering my skin was wet. The big rock hid us from view, but knowing a group of men was on the other side made me feel incredibly exposed. I moved as quickly as I could. The clothes were not warm, but they were mostly dry and, as such, were almost as good as warmth.
