The water splashed beneath him again.
It was just his run of luck, Jugar decided, to be stuck in this boat with the least talkative member of their not all that merry band.
This was the final torture for Jugar. He was gregarious, even for a dwarf. He loved the sound of his own voice and believed unabashedly that his stories, tales, anecdotes, and views on any subject were far more interesting and engaging than anyone else could offer. Moreover he loved conversations—even if they tended to be a bit one-sided—and the challenge of discussion and exploring ideas.
The silence was as annoying as the water he sat in.
Jugar could stand it no longer.
“So . . . Ethis . . .”
The chimerian turned around expectantly.
Jugar blew out a breath and looked away.
“Yes, what is it?” Ethis asked.
“Oh, nothing, really, I just . . .”
The chimerian turned his featureless face toward the dwarf, holding to both sides of the river craft with two of his arms and folding the remaining arms across his chest. “Did you have a question?”
“No . . . Yes . . . I was just wondering . . .”
“Go on.”
“Did you know there was a time when chimerians and dwarves were allies?” Jugar blurted out.
Ethis blinked. “That would have been a long time ago, indeed, as I recall.”
“It was back in the Age of Frost, when the world was young and the stones of the mountains were fresh,” Jugar said.
“You’re talking about the Omrash-Dehai,” Ethis replied, himself slipping down off the prow to also sit in the bottom of the boat.
Jugar suspected Ethis’ move was a conscious effort on the part of the chimerian to establish rapport with him as they spoke but pushed his suspicions down for the time being. “Yes, I believe that was the name. It was said by the lore-keepers to be a time of peace.”
“The name means ‘The Peace of Reasoned Thought’ in the chimerian ancient tongue,” Ethis observed. “It is revered in our nation with days of memorial observance.”
“Indeed?” Jugar said, with honest interest. “I was unaware that the Ephindrians celebrated anything at all.”
Ethis pulled his head back slightly. “Our nation is our family.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Jugar said, waving his hand. “My nation was my family, but now both appear to be gone, do they not? I know better than to ask a chimerian what happens behind the walls of his nation. Ephindria is a closed book, sealed and hidden away from the prying eyes of the rest of us. You chimerians are found nearly everywhere throughout the Rhonas Empire, and yet the rest of us know practically nothing about you. I really do not understand you or your people, Ethis. You watched the rest of the world bleed before the injustice of the elven dictators and said nothing—and by all appearances did nothing. Is it that you are afraid or that you do not care?”
Ethis kept his silence.
“Please, Ethis,” Jugar urged. “Your actions, noble as they may have seemed to you at the time, stranded us in this forgotten end of existence. You broke my leg, and I’ve lost the Heart of Aer . . .” Jugar’s voice caught at its mention. “You could at least give me some reason that would console me beyond your nation being your family.”
“It is . . . it is not to be discussed with outsiders,” Ethis said slowly. “We have long been a people at one with each other . . .”
The boat began to rock more urgently.
Jugar sat up, his eyes wide. “What is that? What’s going on?”
‘I don’t know. The river is moving more rapidly,” Ethis said, his body twisting nearly completely around, as he called to the boat in front of them. “Drakis! What is it?”
Jugar’s eyes followed the tether that linked the prow of their boat to the high stern of the reed boat in front of them. The Ambeth boy was still standing there but was working his river pole with more agitation than Jugar remembered seeing before.
Drakis appeared next to the youth, calling back across the water. “Our guide says we’re coming up on a cascade.”
“A what?” Jugar shouted back.
“A cascade . . . fast, rough water and . . .” Drakis turned toward Ishander for a moment, engaging in an exchange which the dwarf could not hear before turning back to call across the water.” . . . And some falls. He’s going to steer us toward the shore. We’ll walk the boats down the edge of the river until we get past them.”
Jugar felt a twinge from his broken leg. Just what I need, he thought ruefully, a nice long walk along a rocky bank of a treacherous river. He reached down to adjust his splint, hoping that any change would alleviate the itch that still plagued him.
“Wait!” Ethis suddenly called out, pointing from the opposite side of the boat toward the nearing shore. “Drakis! Look!
Everyone on all three boats heard the chimerian’s warning. All but the Lyric fixed their eyes on the riverbank.
It was moving.
Once, when Jugar was young, the dwarf had accidentally overturned a barrel of ground meal that his father had asked him to retrieve from their cellar. It turned out to be a fortunate mistake as cockroaches had made their way under the ill-fitted lid and had been feasting. The overturned keg caused the cockroaches to erupt from the barrel as a river of motion. Now, staring at the numberless shadows flowing between the trees with lightning speed, darting forward in the deep shade of the jungle canopy, Jugar was strongly reminded of those roaches once again.
“Drakoneti!” Ishander shouted, his voice suddenly higher than Jugar remembered it. The youth frantically began working his pole, pushing the lead boat away from the right-hand shore and toward the left.
The bank was beginning to slide past them faster and faster as the river gained speed. Whitecaps began peaking in the surface of the rough water, splashing over the sides of the reed boat.
Jugar arched his back, trying to get a better look down the river. He could see the river narrowing where it dropped down into a tight gorge.
The boat rocked suddenly against a wave, splashing water over the dwarf’s face, blinding him. Jugar sat quickly back down in the boat, discovering that the water around him had grown considerably deeper.
“No!” Urulani’s voice came from the boat trailing Jugar and Ethis. “That shore is crawling with them as well!”
Jugar craned around as best he could, water dripping from his beard and head. He drew his hand once again down his face, trying desperately to clear his eyes.
This time he could see them, their scaled bodies, their long, grasping hands, clawed feet, and tails. The woods seemed infested with them, all following the river’s edge, their dreadful eyes focused on the three reed boats as they rushed to keep up with the increasingly swift river.
“I don’t think that shore’s any friendlier,” Jugar offered.
“Stay down low in the boat,” Ethis said emphatically. “Lash yourself to it if you can.”
“Tie myself down to this bundle of sticks?” Jugar said with indignation. “Are you mad?”
Motion to his right caught Jugar’s eye. Urulani was rushing from the back of her boat toward the prow, her hand clutching her dagger. She grabbed hold of the upturned bow with her left arm, slashing desperately at the line connecting the boats.
The boat rocked suddenly from side to side.
Ethis was cutting their rope to Drakis’ boat. It split apart with a distinct twanging sound as the rope, relieved of its tension sprang away and fell into the river.
Jugar gaped. “Has everyone gone mad?”
Ethis stepped quickly back down the boat. His eyes searched about for a moment before settling on something. He reached down, pulling out the dwarf’s war ax. Before Jugar could protest, Ethis thrust the handle into the dwarf’s hands.
“Use the blade in the river,” the chimerian ordered. “It will help steer the boat.”
“Put my nice steel blade in water!” Jugar yelped. “I’ve spent my life trying to keep this blade out of
water!”
Ethis was not listening. He picked up a river pole similar to Ishander’s from its stowage place in the bottom of the boat. “We’re about to go into battle, dwarf. Think of the river as your enemy.”
The bow of the boat pitched up just as Ethis got to the stern. It rushed over the billowing swell, dropping down the other side in a sudden plunge that stole Jugar’s breath from him. The world had, indeed, gone mad as the river before the boat suddenly looked like an angry wall of chaotic white reaching up to engulf the boat and the dwarf with it.
Jugar turned his ax over and, gripping it upside down, drove it into the whitewater over the side of the boat. The river tore at his grip, determined to wrench the ax out of the dwarf’s hands but his grip was strong.
The bow plunged into the water on the other side of the swell, rolling over both Jugar and Ethis in a wave of blinding white before the reed boat shot through the other side. Jugar shook his head violently, clearing his vision in time to see a huge finger of rock jutting up from the riverbed. Water swept around either side.
“Right!” shouted Ethis. “Steer us right!”
Jugar grimaced as he turned the ax in his hand, then shouted victoriously as the bow of their boat swung to the right, shifting them into a chute that drove them with breathtaking speed into a spinning eddy drifting toward the top of a series of waterfalls.
Tree trunks and branches from either side of the narrow channel stuck out over the river, casting their shade over the sudden calm.
The dwarf laughed out loud. “Now THAT was a fine thing, Ethis! I might even get to like that!”
Ethis crouched at the end of the boat, gazing up into the trees.
“There’s Drakis ahead of us,” Jugar nodded. “I don’t see Urulani or the Lyric. You don’t suppose they somehow got ahead of us, too, do you?”
Ethis leaned forward, speaking quietly.
“Paddle, Jugar.”
“What?”
“Paddle,” the chimerian repeated with sudden urgency. “Paddle NOW!”
Jugar pulled his ax, swinging it sideways, and, with both hands, stabbed its head into the water next to the boat and pulled. Ethis set the pole and pushed with all four hands, scuttling the boat suddenly forward.
A screeching cry filled the air above them.
The trees were swarming with drakoneti.
Jugar drew his ax from the water, swinging it forward and plunging the blade into the river again. The boat was moving faster now, rushing headlong toward a cascade of falls whose roar was growing by the moment.
The drakoneti, seeing their prey escaping, leaped from their perches. Several of them splashed into the water around their boat, thrashing and screaming.
“We’ve got to get to the cascade!” Ethis shouted. “Keep paddling!”
“I AM paddling!” Jugar shouted back, his teeth set. “You’re the one with four arms! I’d think paddling would be a better place for you than for . . .”
The boat suddenly shook with a thudding sound.
Jugar looked up.
A drakonet rose up, gaining its footing on the cross planks between the dwarf and Ethis at the back of the boat. It smelled terrible to the dwarf, its scales flashing in the dappled sunlight through the overhanging trees. Its barbed tail flashed over the dwarf where he sat ducking down to avoid its sting.
Two more drakoneti missed the center of the boat but managed to grip the sides. One was struggling in the current beneath the boat but the other was pulling itself up over the side.
Jugar yelled, drawing his ax from the water and turning it in his hands. He swung first on the drakonet that had nearly pulled itself over the side. The pain shooting up through his leg was blinding, but his aim was true; the blade swept through the creature’s joint cleanly severing the forearm. The drakonet howled and slid back down the side of the boat before sinking under its keel.
The second creature was clawing frantically at the reeds, but the dwarf would not allow it to get purchase. He twisted the blade again, slamming the flat of it repeatedly against the long, bony fingers of the dragon-man.
The monstrous face opened its wide mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth, howling in hatred and indignation, but as it shifted its fingers, the dwarf’s tactic proved effective. The drakonet lost its grip, sinking quickly into the dark waters.
“That’s two for me, chimerian,” Jugar crowed though sweat was breaking out on his brow. The color had left his face and he was having troubling seeing. The pain in his leg was overwhelming. He could see Ethis at the back of the boat, fending off the drakonet who was shifting quickly from side to side, looking for any opening to attack.
“You’ll be three,” Jugar said raising his ax.
His footing dropped out from under him.
The reed boat rushed over the edge of the first cascade, plummeting down and crashing into the water below. Jugar fell backward, his head and shoulders wedging in the bow of the boat. His ax lay under him, pinned by his own body.
The drakonet lay on top of him, its face pressed close to the dwarf’s own. Its eyes suddenly focused, its maw flashing open to engulf Jugar’s face.
Suddenly the face jerked backward. The boat rocked precariously as Ethis wrestled with the drakonet, but the creature was too strong even for the chimerian. It shifted in Ethis’ grip, its claws slashing at the air.
Jugar struggled up from the bottom of the boat, dragging his ax up with him. He could barely see and seemed to be having trouble catching his breath.
He pulled back the ax and swung with all the strength he had left.
Jugar felt the satisfaction of the blade lodging in his enemy.
Then the boat rolled at the crest of another cascade.
The dwarf knew that he had to get his ax back.
So he held on, dragged over the edge with his vanquished enemy, tumbling through the white, roaring air and crashing into the swirling waters of the river.
He wondered for a moment if dwarves could float . . .
There was the rush of waters.
The last thing he remembered were strong hands . . . and four arms . . . wrapping themselves around him.
CHAPTER 28
Shadows and Scales
ETHIS DRAGGED THE DWARF up onto the wide sandbar just far enough to get Jugar’s face out of the water before collapsing onto the sand himself. He lay there, drawing air into his lungs in deep gulps, coughing and sputtering for a time and contemplating the billowing clouds that drifted across the sun above him.
He turned his head. The dwarf was breathing, but barely. His normally ruddy skin color was returning, however, and this reassured the chimerian. Reluctantly, he rolled over on his side and pushed himself up to kneel on the shore and look around.
The bar stood at the fork in the river framed on all sides by steep cliffs. Across from the sandbar was the ravine cut by the river where he could see and still hear the cascades that had brought them here. The raging water tumbled down its course over a number of falls until it crashed into the whirling eddies of the basin, its anger spent by the time it lapped up against the wide sands. One fork of the river then continued through a cut to the north while the other wound eastward through a second, twisting canyon. The thick jungle crowded the crest of the cliffs overhead.
Ethis tensed, his eyes searching the tree line.
Nothing moved.
The chimerian’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Only minutes before, the jungle had been teeming with drakoneti. They were swarming through the dense foliage like a plague of locusts. He fully expected to see them spilling over the edge of the cliffs like a kickedopen nest of spiders, yet now they had seemingly vanished back into the jungle from which they had appeared.
He shivered, his elastic skin rippling in the motion.
Something was terribly wrong.
“Ethis!”
The chimerian turned toward the sound, which had been nearly muted by the roar of the cascades through the canyons. He staggered to his feet and waved his upper
most arms over his head in acknowledgment. “Drakis! We are here.”
The human looked nearly drowned, his dark hair lying flat against his head and his tunic sagging from the weight of being permeated with the river. Drakis had a firm grip on the rope slung over his shoulder ; the same rope Ethis had severed at the top of the cascades. It was still tied to the back of his reed boat, which listed slightly to one side in the gentler waters at the edge of the sandbar. Ishander and Mala stood in the shallow waters next to the boat, keeping it from grounding on the shore as Drakis pulled it up the beach toward where Ethis stood.
“Where’s Urulani?” Ethis called.
“I don’t know,” Drakis replied. “I was hoping she and the Lyric were with you.”
“We were separated up in the cascades,” Ethis said. “We went one way around a rock and they went another and that’s the last I saw of . . . wait! There they are!”
The reed boat was shooting down the cascades at a tremendous rate. Urulani could clearly be seen sitting with her back pressed against the back of the craft, her dark skin glistening in the bright sun as she gripped one of the cross planks cut from its place and now in service as an oar. The Lyric was there, too, her wispy, white hair now plastered against her narrow head as she knelt in the bow of the boat, her arms wrapped around the prow, her wide-eyed, hysterical laughter cutting over the roaring sound of the rapids. The craft plunged down the cascade, vanishing in an explosion of water, only to shoot up out of the water at the crest of the next falls and bounding again toward its edge. Urulani leaned hard on the board, shifting the boat sideways as it slid over the edge, dropping flat into the white water below it. The boat disappeared behind a rock outcropping for a moment before reappearing, its bow now aligned with the current as it shot down a chute and across a whirlpool before gliding out across the pooling waters at the base of the cascade.
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