The rush of cold water surrounded Owen. When he reached the surface, he gasped for air before the current pulled him back under. His mind jumbled as he flowed down the river. Each time he came up out of the water, his eyes met a blurry sky.
As the current swept him down, he looked around for something to grab, but every rock he tried to get a hold of was slick and he rushed by too quickly. His arms worked furiously against the water, and he scraped his arms attempting to hold onto something. The rapids ahead of him looked more dangerous. He swam for the side of the bank, but the water was strong.
He caught sight of Colt running down the side of the river. His spirit rejuvenated and he tried desperately to swim toward him, hoping he would make it to the bank. The more dangerous, roaring rapids down the river were growing nearer.
The water choked him, and his hip hit a rock on his way down another rapid. But still he did not give up. Seeing a rock jutting out up ahead, he grabbed hold of it and managed to hang on. Water clogged his nose and he winced at the taste in his mouth.
“Don’t move!” Colt called, jumping up on the rock.
He held on until the last second, his fingers slipping, when Colt slid down and caught his arm.
Owen placed his foot on the rock and pushed himself up. He landed on Colt with a plop. His heart pounded as he lay there, his energy spent from swimming. His fingers grasped at Colt’s wet shirt for support, and he panted heavily.
Their eyes met briefly before Colt shoved him away.
Owen coughed and shook his head. “What was that for?”
“What? You’re freezing and wet,” Colt snapped.
“You didn’t have to push me off.”
Colt glared at him as they both got to their feet. “If you hadn’t fallen out of the boat, we wouldn’t be here to begin with.”
Owen’s was taken aback. “You’re blaming me for falling out?” he croaked, his throat scratchy.
“You just could have held on better.”
“Well, I didn’t, but you came after me anyway, so you can’t be that upset.”
“Owen, are you all right?” Amias called from the bank.
“He’s fine,” Colt muttered.
They stepped onto the bank, and Amias examined Owen. His shoulder burned. He hoped his stitches had not burst.
“Did you hit your head?” Amias asked. “You’re bleeding a bit.”
“I feel fine,” Owen said. He touched the side of his head and winced. He drew his fingers away and saw blood.
“It’s just a scrape,” Colt said. “He doesn’t need you coddling over him every time something happens.”
“I’m not coddling, Colt. I’m making sure he’s good enough to walk.”
“I’ll go get our things.” Colt sighed as he brushed past them and up the bank to the wrecked boat.
Owen watched him go, then turned to face the river. His eyes followed the water as it surged through rocks and rapids. In the distance, fuming mist rose into the air.
“A waterfall,” he stated.
“Yes. You’re lucky you got out in time.”
Owen shivered. “I wouldn’t have if not for Colt.”
Amias raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Well, he’ll help anyone out of a scrap. Come on, let’s go get our things. I dragged the boat up on the bank. Hopefully our bags aren’t too wet.”
When they met with Colt, Owen took his bag and slung it onto his back. He scanned the boat for damage and saw a big split in the side where it had cracked.
“Can we patch it?” he asked.
“Not unless you know how,” Colt said.
“So you just want to leave it here?”
“We don’t have time to fix the boat, Owen.” Amias pulled out his map. “Besides, we’ll be continuing on foot from here. We’ll cut through the wood tomorrow and hopefully come out to Berry Farms.”
“Berry Farms?” Owen asked. “The winery?”
“That’s right. We can sleep there once we reach it. I say we walk for another day or two. Hopefully.”
“Right. Best get on it, then,” Colt said. “A bed and wine. You don’t have to convince me much more.”
“Hold a moment. Let’s patch Owen up first.”
Amias cleaned up Owen’s face and inspected his shoulder, which remained stitched, albeit sore. When Amias tried to bandage his face, Owen swatted him away.
“It’s fine as long as it’s not bleeding anymore,” Owen said. Then he noticed a long, red mark on Colt’s forearm. “You’re bleeding, too.”
“It’s nothing,” Colt muttered, wiping the blood from his arm and washing his hands in the water.
A streak of lightning tore through the sky, and a loud crack of thunder followed after it.
“We won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. We should make camp while we can, then carry on tomorrow.”
“We could use the boat for cover,” Owen suggested.
Amias shook his head. “The wind is strong. Let’s get away from the river.”
His mind exhausted, Owen walked with his companions away from the river and through the trees. He shivered from the cold wind as it picked up, and his whole body ached. As the rain began, he walked on with a foggy mind. He was not only wet, he was soaked to the bone, and the chill from the river made everything all the more freezing. The last several days spent in Birchwood had proved difficult, and his last good night of sleep had been at Brom’s camp.
The rain pounded them, and the lightning was relentless. Owen glanced up at the treetops as something flew ahead. He caught the whiteness of feathers.
The animal from earlier?
“We have to take cover, Amias,” Colt said.
“Take your pick under one of these trees, then,” Amias replied.
Owen pulled on Amias’s arm. “This way.”
Amias and Colt exchanged glances.
“What’s that way?” Colt asked. “More trees?”
Before Owen could give an explanation, he ran ahead, trying to keep the flash of white in his sight. Amias and Colt rushed behind him.
The bushes became denser the further Owen ran, and the trees grew closer together. Their trunks were embossed with green moss, and a strange yellow hue emanated from them.
Not ten minutes later, following whatever animal flew from the treetops, Owen stopped. Before them, standing amid the hard rain, was a ruined temple.
They all gazed at it. Then Owen’s companions looked at him.
“How did you know this was here?” Amias asked.
“I didn’t.” Owen looked at the ground and, seeing a white feather in the grass, picked it up and twirled it around. He wondered if the bird that flew this way had led them here.
The thunder boomed, and they all rushed through the stone arch, which led into a circular room. Vines had taken over the walls and intact roof, creeping in from the narrow windows that lined the inside.
“Very curious,” Amias said. He ran his hand across the weathered white stones of the wall. “I’m not sure what manner of dwelling this was.”
The white bricks that had made up the floor were mostly broken, as if something or someone had busted them. A rusty iron candelabra lay half wedged in the dirt, moss growing along the bottom of it.
“Well, whatever it is, looks good enough to stay in.” Colt threw down his bag and began stripping off his clothes.
Owen turned away and set down his bag. There was a small doorway that led down a corridor, but the columns were half broken and the walls mostly gone. At the end was a pile of broken stones, as if another building had stood there at one time. Wet leaves covered most of the ruins. Owen placed his hand against the stone of the doorway and speculated about what had happened here.
“Good work, Owen,” Amias said from behind. “It looks as though it may rain all night.”
“Right.” Colt sat on the ground in dry clothes. “And we still got those fish you caught. Should be able to make a fire from some of the brush and twigs in here.”
Amias set out a b
owl of blackberries, a few apples, and the remaining bread from Green Springs. “Of course, I have lots of apples to last us through this wood.”
Colt sniffed. “Oh, good. My stomach should be full in no time.”
Owen undressed from his wet clothes and pulled on a clean pair of trousers and a long-sleeved shirt. He tugged his suspenders off and set his boots to the side to dry, then stood the candelabra up against the wall and hung his coat over it. Luckily, most of the items in his bag were only slightly damp, if not dry.
For a while, Colt tried to start a fire, but all he could get from the brush was smoke. Rather than cook the fish now, they hung them up on the candelabra, which was becoming a gathering place to hang their other items to dry, and ate from their other provisions.
“Everything is wet,” Amias said. “Thank the gods we found this place.”
“Thank something,” Owen muttered, looking up at the walls.
“Gods be damned, my cards are all wet.” Colt brought a deck of cards out from his bag and spread every single one out on the floor.
Most of the cards were worn, their edges falling apart or ripped.
Owen narrowed his eyes. “Why keep them? They’re so faded they look almost unplayable. We could use them for a fire.”
His jab did not settle well with Colt, who glared at him darkly. “I’d burn my own clothes first.”
“Apologies.”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
Shaking his head, Owen turned away and rolled his eyes. He grabbed his multi-colored quilt and wrapped it around him.
Outside, the thunder rolled, and the rain showed no sign of letting up. The sky darkened, and before long Owen curled up on the ground, laid his head on his bag, and fell asleep.
Chapter 13
The morning brought a dry chill after the storm, but the sun shone bright against the ruins. Owen woke with a tingle in his throat and could not shake the constant cold that gripped him. As he roused himself and walked outside, down the broken corridor and past the pile of rubble, he heard the sound of water trickling.
He stopped and gazed out at the river, seeing the waterfall in the distance. They had not traveled far last night before he saw the strange flying animal.
Since the sun was out and the sky was clear, Owen brought out his clothes and set them to dry on rocks and branches. Colt bathed in the river while Amias laid their fish in a skillet over a low fire on the bank.
“Woo!” Colt shouted as he waded into the water, which came up to his waist. “Enough to freeze your balls off, it is.”
Owen smirked. He’d had enough of cold water for the time being. Between falling in the river and getting soaked from the rain, he was clean enough. His companion, on the other hand, did not seem to mind, nor did he have any modesty.
“You won’t see me getting in there,” Amias started. “Alacor’s hot baths have spoiled me so. I wouldn’t make it even ankle deep.”
“That’s how noble city men are.” Colt scrubbed himself with a bar of soap. “Don’t know the troubles of cold water as we common folk do.”
Looking over, Owen stared at the scar that ran along Colt’s left side, just beneath his ribcage; it blended with his skin, but it was still noticeable. Owen was curious about what it was from. A cut? Or perhaps a brawl in a pub? His skin tightened in a few places on his right arm like burn scars. Below his collarbone was a faded outline of a dark, winged creature that looked like a dove. He had no other tattoos other than the spade on his arm. The more glances Owen stole at the man, the more he wanted to look at him.
Cheeks flushing, he looked away. He thought of the stitched gash from the Outrider on his upper left arm. He supposed it would leave a permanent scar, too. His first.
Colt came out of the water and pulled on his dry trousers, then went to pick up one of the shirts still drying on the rock.
“That one’s still damp,” Owen said.
“I’d rather wear the damp one for now and store the dry one in my bag.” As Colt buttoned his shirt, he eyed Owen.
“What?” Owen started.
“Nothing,” Colt replied. “Just trying to figure out what that is there on your neck, is all.”
Owen froze a moment and put a hand to his neck, where something long and slimy wriggled against his fingers. Panicking, he ripped the strange slime from his neck and threw it to the ground.
“What is that?” he shouted as he looked down at the dark, wiggly creature.
“Poisonous slug. They live in river water, looking for flesh to bite before they taint the blood. Your vision will be the first to go, mate.”
Owen rubbed uneasily at his neck as he looked at the creature moving slowly on the ground. “What?” he whispered. “But I don’t feel any bite marks or—”
When Owen heard Colt and Amias snicker, he looked up. Relief washed over him as he saw the laughter in their faces. He shoved Colt away.
“What, mate? Just having a bit of fun with you.”
“You’re hilarious. Is there anything else on me? I don’t even know how that got on me.”
“No, mate, no leeches—I mean, poisonous snails.”
“I should’ve put it on you.”
Colt’s laughter softened, and then he grinned at Owen.
“These are ready,” came Amias’s voice. “We’d better eat up now before heading out.”
Owen and Colt sat on a few boulders as Amias handed them small plates of food.
The steam that rose from the fish warmed Owen’s spirit as he picked the meat from the bones.
“How are the clothes?” Amias asked.
“Still drying.”
“We can rest here until noon, and then we’ll pick up. If we keep on in this direction, we should come out around Berry Farms.”
“I told Hale that’s where we’d be going when I told him I was leaving Emberton for a while. I suppose it wasn’t a complete lie.”
Owen thought of how Hale had asked him to help with his wedding to Molly Thorne. He would never know if she had told him yes, but for his sake, he hoped she had. Perhaps in time, Hale would forget all about him. Maybe he already had.
“Is there an inn?” Colt asked.
“They have two inns,” Amias said. “It’s Milarc’s finest winery.”
“How charming. I’m sure we’ll fit right in.” Colt pressed set aside his plate, then grabbed his bow.
Amias looked up. “If you’re going hunting, you might want to take Owen with you. He needs to learn while he has his own bow.”
“Right, I said I would,” Colt sighed. “Come on, then.”
While Amias gathered their plates to clean at the river, Owen took the bow Brom had given him and followed Colt through the woods, where they practiced shooting. When they were ready to hunt, they set out some slices of bruised apples where the grass grew wild between the shrubs, settled between two trees, and waited. They sat in silence for a long while, Owen keeping his arrow loose against the frame of his bow in case he should see an animal. After a long time he began to daydream, until Colt startled him by nocking an arrow. Owen followed Colt’s gaze across the way and spotted a rabbit nearby.
Colt’s hand moved swiftly and the arrow whizzed through the air, piercing the rabbit through its head.
Owen winced, but went with him to retrieve the animal.
“Should we keep on?” Owen asked.
“No,” Colt replied. “I don’t want to waste too much energy doing this. We sat too long just now for one rabbit.”
Owen paused and looked around at the golden leaves as they rustled against the evening sky. When he looked at Colt, something tugged in his chest. Colt was tall and lean, and underneath his shadow of a beard and unkempt hair were a strong jaw that reminded him of Hale.
When he found himself staring too long, he looked away and cleared his throat. “It’s peaceful out here. I can see why you like doing this alone.”
“I don’t mind you being here,” Colt replied. “Just got to get used to the compa
ny.”
“Do you plan on staying around long enough for that? The way you talked the other day, you don’t seem set on finding the Alliance.”
“And you do? You can make your own choice, you know. You don’t have to go along with him just because he says so. You’re a grown-ass man.”
“And where would I go? I know nothing of Avathon.”
Colt shrugged, loosening his shoulders. “I could tell you a few places to go.”
“You lived there?”
“For a time.”
The sunlight was lukewarm as it beat upon their backs. Owen looked around, marveling at the fall colors on the trees. When the breeze blew gently, it sent several floating their way. Looking over, a pile of rocks caught Owen’s eye.
“Oh look!” He ran up to the rock at the very bottom. He craned his head up at the boulders, which stacked onto each other like steps. At the top, a boulder jutted out into their trail. Moss lined the rocky faces turned to the sun, and a tree had planted itself in the midst of it, exposed roots crawling across its surface. Many small veins of the roots hung over the middle section.
Colt came up beside him, holding his bow over his right shoulder. “So what? It’s just a rock.”
“It’s beautiful. I want to climb it.”
“What?” Colt raised an eyebrow.
Owen turned to him with wide eyes. “I’ll race you to the top?”
“Now why would I—” Trailing off, Colt eyed him a moment, then smiled crookedly. “Sure, on three?” He leaned his bow and quiver against a nearby tree.
“One, two—”
“Three!” Colt shouted, bolting forward.
“Hey!” Planting his boot on the bottom rock, Owen pushed himself up, but was already behind Colt. Instead of going up the series of rocky stairs, instead he placed his foot up on one of the bigger rocks and hoisted himself up from the side. He reached the top at the same time as Colt, who ran into him.
“Whoa!” Colt caught him, steadying them both before they fell. “What a cheat.”
“I’m a cheat?” Owen shoved him away playfully. “You went before three.”
“Well, you know, we both reached the top at the same time anyway, yeah?” Colt put his hands on his hips, taking a few raspy breaths as he looked out.
Beyond the Core (The Starborn Series Book 1) Page 15
