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From Across the Clouded Range

Page 30

by H. Nathan Wilcox

Teth closed her eyes, grabbed her nose, and let go of Dasen. She dreaded what would come next, but there was no other way. When the pursuit had started, she had known that she could either leave Dasen or test the river. On her own, the bandits never would have found her. But then she would have been on her own, counting for the bastard forest masters for help – and she knew from experience what they did with girls they found alone in the forest. Dasen wasn’t much use out here, but in the city, with the forest masters, his name, power, and connections would mean everything. The forest masters would probably do anything he asked. By the Order, the Chancellor would probably dispatch the entire army to save Ipid, but there was no guarantee that they would even let her tell her tale. At least that is what she told herself when she could not bring herself to leave the boy behind.

  The fall into the river was not nearly long enough. Teth clamped her hand over her nose and felt icy water embrace her. The furious current dragged her into its rain-bloated depths where she tumbled weightless, water battering her from all sides. She opened her eyes. Chaos greeted her. Blue and white raced before her vision in an indistinguishable rush that gave no indication of which was water and which was sky. She kicked, pulled but had no idea where to go. The river roared in her ears, laughing as its cruel joke was revealed.

  Panic gripped her. She had never learned to swim, and the deadly White River was no place to start. Its powerful undertow and sudden rapids could drown even the most experienced swimmer, and every child in Randor’s Pass knew not to tempt its fury. She now understood why, understood how powerful nature could be. Her wild kick and flailing arms did nothing but drain her energy, suck the air from her lungs. And still, she could not find the surface. She searched through the maze of blue and white for some sign of that sanctuary, some hope for air and the chance to yell, but in the weightless torrent, she could have been inches or miles from the surface and not known the difference.

  Frantic struggle and unabated panic steadily drew the last of the air from her burning lungs. Her legs grew tired and numb. Other muscles followed until she could no longer make her body respond to her hysterical requests to fight. Sensing its victory, the river wrapped its cold arms around her and sucked her down into its dark bosom. Spots danced before her sightless eyes. Her entire body ached for air. She could not hold out any longer. Her lungs opened to the river, and it celebrated with a demonic howl that was cut short by blackness.

 

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