I woke to the sight of a small songbird perched in front of my nose. It tweeted at me from where it clung to the edge of my hammock. The bird, I realized, was the same one that had woken me on my first morning in the Vale, which meant-
“Creep. Watching me while I sleep.”
The bird fluttered to a branch and turned into Miles. “I thought I was supposed to be a monster.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t know basic decency,” I retorted, pulling myself into a kneeling position and reaching for breakfast. My supplies were beginning to run low. Soon I’d be hunting rabbits and squirrels like an arcane.
“Oh, please. It was like, two minutes. I was waiting for you to wake up.”
I grunted and forced down a mouthful of stale bread. We’d left the summit of the West Fang thirty-six hours ago; we were now held by the Maw. So far it was the same as the rest of the Vale: dark and full of freaky monsters. Yesterday we’d run into a flock of reen, and one of them had left long scratches on my arm from its needle claws. Thank goodness the little turds were no larger than robins.
“What’s our path looking like?”
Miles stole a bit of jerky and cackled when I clawed after him. “Much flatter than yesterday. As you probably noticed, the mountains drop straight into the Maw with few foothills. We’ve left the cliffs, so our path should be quite straightforward.”
“Should?” I asked dubiously.
“The Shadowvale has a habit of messing with travelers.”
I kicked my bag closed. “Why did I even come into this forest?”
“I could answer that,” Miles said. “But I don’t think you want me to.”
“Good instincts.”
I crawled off my hammock and, after a near-fall, joined him on the branch. He helped me dismantle my makeshift bed before floating to the ground. I dropped my pack after him. It barely missed.
“Hey!” He shouted. I snickered.
I swung to the leaf litter. Miles strode forward a ways, then looked back at me. “Ready?”
“No.”
Together we walked into the dark.
Miles needed a crash course in the definition of straightforward.
Due to the wide, black gashes in the ground, the random spires of jagged rock, and the occasional nest of unknown foul beast, our path was neither straight nor forward.
“We’re not getting anywhere,” I complained. “We’re just moving parallel to the Spine.”
Miles shot me a look over his shoulder. “You want to find out what lives in those caves?”
I spared a glance at the honeycomb of openings in the cliff we’d carefully skirted. “Not really, no.”
“Then stop whining. I’m doing my utmost best to keep you alive, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah-” I looked up as a familiar sound reached my ears. “Water!” I exclaimed. “That’ll be a good place to stop for lunch.”
“Unless it’s poisoned. Or there’s a water lurk. Or-”
“Oh, just shut up, will you?”
Miles grumbled unhappily as I skipped toward the sound of rushing liquid. The normal smell of a river washed over my nose, and suddenly I found myself on a steep bank looking out over dark water. I scooped some up in my hands and stared. It was black as ink.
“Dang,” I muttered. “Can’t refill my waterskin here.”
Miles came up behind me and blinked at the river. “Oh! That’s the Iss-Noor. Bluewhen mentioned it, remember? It flows to the center of the Maw.”
“So if we follow it, we’ll find the dragon.”
“That’s the idea. Though the black water attracts beasts; the blackness comes from infused shadows and beasts like-”
“But it’s the most straightforward route.”
He sighed. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Fantastic. Let’s follow it.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
Pleased with myself, I sat down on the bank and pulled out my lunch. My rations were too low. By tomorrow I’d be out.
“I’ll hunt you some squirrels,” Miles promised.
“Eating Vale animals won’t turn me into a slobbering monster like yourself, would it?” I said around a mouthful of dried apple.
“Probably not. Although it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? You obviously get smashing good looks. Or maybe that’s just me.”
“I’ve already got smashing good looks,” I pointed out.
Miles leaned forward until our faces were only about fifteen centimeters apart. My lungs decided to stop working. “Um,” I managed.
“Checking for aforementioned good looks,” he clarified.
“Well, obviously, you should’ve already known that they’re, um, there.” I spluttered. Words were refusing to leave my mouth in an orderly fashion. How mortifying.
Miles leaned back, to my immense relief and, worryingly, disappointment. “Well?” I prompted, back in control of my mouth.
“You do realize there’s only one answer to that question, right?”
“Yes, and it’s: ‘you’re very hot’. Say it.”
“You’re very hot.”
“Good.” I stared at the black water, still recovering from my loss of bodily function. The river flowed rapidly, catching on the occasional rock with a burst of grey foam. The banks, forested by dark pines, stood treacherously steep in both directions. The water looked deep. “A boat would be nice.”
“Yes, it would-” Miles stopped, peering down the bank. A few meters away bobbed a little wooden boat. “-Okay…”
It was quite old. The wood was grey with age and a little mossy, though as far as I could tell it seemed sound enough. It was a rowboat, but I couldn’t see any oars.
“That wasn’t there before, was it,” I said.
"Nope.”
“We shouldn’t get in it, should we.”
“Nope.”
We looked at each other.
“I’ll sit in the stern, shall I?” I said.
“Sounds good.”
The boat was dry inside, and it didn’t even have an offensive smell. However, it was a little small for two people, it didn’t have anything to propel or steer with, and I was ninety-nine percent certain it was a trap. Oh, well.
“The current will push us in the right direction,” Miles said. “Hopefully we won’t hit any waterfalls.”
“And hopefully we didn’t just make some water demons very happy.”
“That too. Although, I’m in no danger.”
I stuck out my tongue at him. “Save me if something tries to eat me.”
Five minutes later we were settled in the boat and at the mercy of the river and whatever was in it. I’d tucked myself into the stern against the flat back of the boat. Miles sat on a board that stretched across the middle of the boat, where the rower would sit. He gazed forward for a while, counting on his talons, before turning around to look at me. “It’ll probably take us five days to get there by boat if we spend the nights on the shore, or three days if you sleep in the boat,” he reported.
“I’d rather not sleep on the water,” I said. “That sounds like a good way to paint a bull’s eye on my back.”
“We’re actually pretty safe on the water. We’re a fast, moving target, most beasts don’t like swimming, and water lurks and demons don’t often attack arcanes. Though they may break that norm if it meant getting human flesh.”
I hugged my stomach flesh protectively. “So much for my shadow-meat shield.”
“I am so very sorry.”
I picked at my smudgy shirt, suddenly exhausted. I missed my comfy, creaky bed and the open, well-worn bedroom I shared with my sister. I missed eating fresh food. I missed not being hunted. Perhaps searching for magic in this unholy forest wasn’t such a bright idea after all. Miles had said family was more important than power, and I was beginning to think he was right. But I’d made it so far already, and if what Bluewhen had said was true, continuing on would save my family along with thousands of other humans. And, I realized, it would save Miles. He could finally leave this dark place. That alone made up for all the hardship and horror.
Miles was watching me, his expression strange. “We’re almost there,” he muttered. “Then everything will be over and the forest will be bright again.”
I didn’t say anything, unsure of who he was talking to: me or himself. Miles turned back around and faced forward again. Eventually, the rocking boat and the quiet melody of the Iss-Noor lulled me to sleep.
I woke, eyes wet, from a dream where Miles had left me lost and alone in the black, black woods. It was a relief to see his dark monster shape against the rushing water. Above, the sky was flat black. “What time is it?” I mumbled, rubbing sleep gunk from my eyes.
“Evening.” While I’d been out, Miles had positioned himself so his back pressed against the prow, mirroring me. “You shouldn’t have woken up; you’ll just have to go back to sleep.”
“Well, I’m hungry.” I dug around in my pack. I was, unfortunately, down to my last meal. “Crap.”
“I did say I’d hunt for you.”
“Yeah, but I can’t eat raw meat. I’d need a fire.” I sighed, surveying the dried meat in my hands. “Well, I suppose if I was hungry enough, I could eat my squirrel extra-extra-rare.”
“You might have to. I don’t know which plants are edible for humans.”
“I do. Sort of.”
“Encouraging. You’re going to die from bad mushrooms, aren’t you-” Miles stopped, watching the water behind me. I turned as well, the fine hairs on my arms standing up. The black water curled in our wake, and for a moment I thought everything looked normal. Then the river rippled where it shouldn’t have.
I leaned away from the edge. “Um, what is-” I never got to finish, for before the word that could leave my mouth, something long and pale tossed itself over the boat, seized my arms, and pulled me into the water.
Oh, was the water cold. But I couldn’t dwell on the icy shock, as something strong and determined was holding me under the choking water.
I tried to struggle away, but I may as well have been smacking a rock. Those fingers were like iron. I opened my eyes in a desperate attempt to see my hunter, but all I saw was black black black-
The hands were ripped away. I didn’t waste a second in kicking to the surface, where I sucked in grateful gasps of sweet, sweet air. Boat, the sensible part of my mind said. If I was on the boat, nothing could grab my ankles.
I cast around wildly and zeroed in on our little rowboat. It was doing something very strange. The front pointed down, giving me a view of the mucky underside. Then the stern disappeared after the prow.
Only after the boat was gone did I hear the roar and notice the speed of the water. The river curved away like a horizon as it bent at a right angle in a very wrong direction. My world narrowed to the smooth arc of the water and the too-distant bank as the current grabbed my legs and yanked me over the waterfall.
Stomachs speak.
As I fell alongside a thousand liters of water, mine went: no no no, over and over. Thankfully, something clicked into place in my brain and common sense found a foothold: legs straight, feet pointed, arms down, jaw tight, hold your breath-
Bubbles hissed around my face. I had time to think: thank God, no rocks, before the jumping current tumbled me through a maze of water. I smacked into a rock, grabbed a handhold, and pushed myself to the surface.
The water was a living thing, wrapping frozen arms around my waist, ripping at my clothes. I desperately gripped by rock and pulled myself as far above the surface as I could. My limbs trembled from fading adrenaline and the chill.
I looked around. Neither Miles, our boat, or the lurk were anywhere in sight. Before me rose the waterfall, a wall of black foam fifteen meters high. Yikes.
Forcing myself to focus, I took a deep breath and got my mind in order. First things first, I had to get out of the river. Large rocks broke the surface of the water, creating a path to the bank. I pushed away from my boulder and lunged for the next, fighting the current. For a horrible moment, my fingers slid on slime and I thought the river would take me, but my fingertips caught a ridge. I hugged the rock for a minute, working up the courage to swim to the next. Cold water swelled against my neck, and it felt as if my brain was icing over.
I shoved towards the next stone. This one was rougher, and I easily found purchase. I glanced over; the shore lay beyond a short stretch of rapid water. Stone pricked by forehead as I leaned against the rock, sucked in a breath, and kicked to the shore. The current pulled me downstream, but it did not suck me under. My feet found purchase on the gravel bank. I pulled myself out and collapsed, content to lay there until something came to eat me. The cold water had left me bone tired.
My eyes slipped shut. I was on the edge of sleep when a splashing sound broke the steady hiss of the current. I heard whatever monster it was kneel beside me, and I realized despairingly that I didn’t have the energy to escape. A taloned hand gently touched my cheek. Oh. It was my monster.
“Minnow. Minnow, wake up,” Miles said, his voice tight. “Minnow? Please wake up. Come on, don’t- Don’t-” His voice shuddered to a stop. I made a heroic effort to rise and managed to open my eyes sleepily and groan a bit. I focused on Miles’ black outline as he slumped with relief. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I fell down a waterfall,” I mumbled. “Duh.”
He let out a shaky laugh. “You’re completely fine. I thought- you were just lying there-”
“Sorry,” I slurred. “’M tired. And s-so cold…”
Miles scooped me up and princess-carried me away from the bank. “We need to risk a fire,” he said as he walked. “Leaving you wet and cold overnight is dangerous. I’m going to put you in a tree. Can you stay in it?”
I frowned, feeling slightly cross-eyed. “I think s-so. But why a tree?”
“You’ll be safer up there while I find your bag and our boat. We need your matches.”
“Oh.” I reached for the tree trunk as Miles lifted us into the branches of an ash. “They m-might be soaked.”
“Possibly. I’ll be right back, okay? Just hold on.”
I settled myself in a crook between a branch and the trunk, gripping the rough bark. “Literally.”
Miles laughed and floated down to the forest floor. I gripped the branch tighter, trying not to fall asleep and tip out of the tree. The world seemed to be wavering. The quiet sounds of the woods were muffled and then too loud. Rough, hard bark pressed painfully against my back. Cold, black water dripped steadily from my clothes.
I was shaking. My chest and head ached from the movement. All I wanted was to be at home, warm and comfortable in my bed with my sister’s breathing a soft lullaby. My head drooped forward and my body followed. I barely managed to catch myself on a branch, gazing down at the distant ground. Miles, please hurry.
Two hands locked around my upper arms. I blinked my eyes open. I hadn’t realized they were closed. Miles carefully lifted me out of the tree and set me on the ground, leaves crackling under me. I tried to stay sitting upright, my back against the tree. But the urge to tip sideways and start snoring was nearly overpowering.
I focused blearily on Miles, trying to puzzle out what he was saying. “-downstream. Somehow it’s mostly dry.”
“Mmm?” I mumbled.
“Your bag.” He held up the pack for emphasis. “It’s just a little splattered.”
I woke up a bit and tried to speak, my jaw starting to seize up. “Really? So you can make a f-fire?”
He nodded. “While I’m gathering dry wood, take off your wet clothes and wrap yourself in the hammock. You need to get warm.”
I agreed that yes, being warm was a priority, and told him to get lost. The moment he was out of sight I stripped with shaking arms and pulled the blessedly dry hammock around my body. Gooseflesh covered my frozen skin.
Sometime later Miles returned with an armload of firewood. “There’s an empty cave,” he reported. “It’ll be safer to build a fire there.”
He helped me stand and carried my pack and sodden clothes through the dark trees. When we arrived at the cave, I crawled inside and curled up on the dry, dusty ground, half asleep already. Miles set about building a fire. He piled the wood like someone who’d done it before, and I wondered if it was muscle memory from before he Turned.
Soon a yellow tongue of flame rose through the tent of sticks. I got up and scooched as close to the fire as I could without actually burning myself. Miles spread my clothes on the ground where they could dry.
He looked at me and smiled. “Some evening, huh?”
“Oh, sh-shush.”
He grinned, then became serious. “The lurk who dragged you under- she said she was trying to save you from going over the falls.”
I blinked, long and slow. “I think I heard you wrong. She was trying to s-save me?”
Miles shrugged. “Apparently. She was the one who’d given us the boat. Something instructed her to make sure you made it to the center of the Maw in one piece.”
I shifted nervously. “Bluewhen?”
“Maybe. But wildwitches don’t make a habit of bending shadow creatures to their will. They stay away from us, for the most part. We make them uncomfortable.”
“But who else would want us to make it to the dragon?”
Miles shrugged. “That’s the thing that’s been bothering me. It must’ve been Bluewhen. But there’s something very strange about a wildwitch making pacts with beasts. I don’t really… trust her.”
I remembered the warning Bluewhen had given me about my traveling companion. “She doesn’t trust you. Maybe her distrust caused yours. Maybe distrust is contagious.”
“I don’t think it works like that.”
I made a noncommittal sound. I was feeling much better, now that my skin was dry and warming up. Sleep pulled a bit less insistently at my eyelids. After a comfortable break in the conversation, Miles asked, “Do you want to eat something? I could catch a bird and we could roast it.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not hungry. Though we should do that anyway, so I’ll have something to eat later when we don’t have a fire.”
At the end of the word fire, my face cracked into a massive yawn. Miles grinned, showing his dagger teeth. “You sleep. I’ll take care of the roasting.”
I smacked my lips, trying to get the taste of yawn out of my mouth. “Do you know how?”
“Yes, I-” He stared at his hands and wiggled his fingers. “It’s like the fire. My hands know what to do, even though my head has forgotten.”
I nodded. “Okay, well,” I tipped over. “I’m going to sleep. Night night.” Miles reached over and tucked the hammock more securely around my body. Suddenly the fact that I was completely naked under the canvas became very, very real. Every centimeter of my skin flushed. On the bright side, I was certainly warm.
Miles stood uncomfortably, as if he too had just remembered my predicament. “Um. Get some sleep. I’ll be back soon.” When I nodded, he quickly turned and made for the cave entrance, but before he exited he gave me one last look over his shoulder, eyes uncanny shadows in the firelight. Then he left, and I felt something like sunlight spilling over inside.
“Creep. Watching me while I sleep.”
The bird fluttered to a branch and turned into Miles. “I thought I was supposed to be a monster.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t know basic decency,” I retorted, pulling myself into a kneeling position and reaching for breakfast. My supplies were beginning to run low. Soon I’d be hunting rabbits and squirrels like an arcane.
“Oh, please. It was like, two minutes. I was waiting for you to wake up.”
I grunted and forced down a mouthful of stale bread. We’d left the summit of the West Fang thirty-six hours ago; we were now held by the Maw. So far it was the same as the rest of the Vale: dark and full of freaky monsters. Yesterday we’d run into a flock of reen, and one of them had left long scratches on my arm from its needle claws. Thank goodness the little turds were no larger than robins.
“What’s our path looking like?”
Miles stole a bit of jerky and cackled when I clawed after him. “Much flatter than yesterday. As you probably noticed, the mountains drop straight into the Maw with few foothills. We’ve left the cliffs, so our path should be quite straightforward.”
“Should?” I asked dubiously.
“The Shadowvale has a habit of messing with travelers.”
I kicked my bag closed. “Why did I even come into this forest?”
“I could answer that,” Miles said. “But I don’t think you want me to.”
“Good instincts.”
I crawled off my hammock and, after a near-fall, joined him on the branch. He helped me dismantle my makeshift bed before floating to the ground. I dropped my pack after him. It barely missed.
“Hey!” He shouted. I snickered.
I swung to the leaf litter. Miles strode forward a ways, then looked back at me. “Ready?”
“No.”
Together we walked into the dark.
Miles needed a crash course in the definition of straightforward.
Due to the wide, black gashes in the ground, the random spires of jagged rock, and the occasional nest of unknown foul beast, our path was neither straight nor forward.
“We’re not getting anywhere,” I complained. “We’re just moving parallel to the Spine.”
Miles shot me a look over his shoulder. “You want to find out what lives in those caves?”
I spared a glance at the honeycomb of openings in the cliff we’d carefully skirted. “Not really, no.”
“Then stop whining. I’m doing my utmost best to keep you alive, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah-” I looked up as a familiar sound reached my ears. “Water!” I exclaimed. “That’ll be a good place to stop for lunch.”
“Unless it’s poisoned. Or there’s a water lurk. Or-”
“Oh, just shut up, will you?”
Miles grumbled unhappily as I skipped toward the sound of rushing liquid. The normal smell of a river washed over my nose, and suddenly I found myself on a steep bank looking out over dark water. I scooped some up in my hands and stared. It was black as ink.
“Dang,” I muttered. “Can’t refill my waterskin here.”
Miles came up behind me and blinked at the river. “Oh! That’s the Iss-Noor. Bluewhen mentioned it, remember? It flows to the center of the Maw.”
“So if we follow it, we’ll find the dragon.”
“That’s the idea. Though the black water attracts beasts; the blackness comes from infused shadows and beasts like-”
“But it’s the most straightforward route.”
He sighed. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Fantastic. Let’s follow it.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
Pleased with myself, I sat down on the bank and pulled out my lunch. My rations were too low. By tomorrow I’d be out.
“I’ll hunt you some squirrels,” Miles promised.
“Eating Vale animals won’t turn me into a slobbering monster like yourself, would it?” I said around a mouthful of dried apple.
“Probably not. Although it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? You obviously get smashing good looks. Or maybe that’s just me.”
“I’ve already got smashing good looks,” I pointed out.
Miles leaned forward until our faces were only about fifteen centimeters apart. My lungs decided to stop working. “Um,” I managed.
“Checking for aforementioned good looks,” he clarified.
“Well, obviously, you should’ve already known that they’re, um, there.” I spluttered. Words were refusing to leave my mouth in an orderly fashion. How mortifying.
Miles leaned back, to my immense relief and, worryingly, disappointment. “Well?” I prompted, back in control of my mouth.
“You do realize there’s only one answer to that question, right?”
“Yes, and it’s: ‘you’re very hot’. Say it.”
“You’re very hot.”
“Good.” I stared at the black water, still recovering from my loss of bodily function. The river flowed rapidly, catching on the occasional rock with a burst of grey foam. The banks, forested by dark pines, stood treacherously steep in both directions. The water looked deep. “A boat would be nice.”
“Yes, it would-” Miles stopped, peering down the bank. A few meters away bobbed a little wooden boat. “-Okay…”
It was quite old. The wood was grey with age and a little mossy, though as far as I could tell it seemed sound enough. It was a rowboat, but I couldn’t see any oars.
“That wasn’t there before, was it,” I said.
"Nope.”
“We shouldn’t get in it, should we.”
“Nope.”
We looked at each other.
“I’ll sit in the stern, shall I?” I said.
“Sounds good.”
The boat was dry inside, and it didn’t even have an offensive smell. However, it was a little small for two people, it didn’t have anything to propel or steer with, and I was ninety-nine percent certain it was a trap. Oh, well.
“The current will push us in the right direction,” Miles said. “Hopefully we won’t hit any waterfalls.”
“And hopefully we didn’t just make some water demons very happy.”
“That too. Although, I’m in no danger.”
I stuck out my tongue at him. “Save me if something tries to eat me.”
Five minutes later we were settled in the boat and at the mercy of the river and whatever was in it. I’d tucked myself into the stern against the flat back of the boat. Miles sat on a board that stretched across the middle of the boat, where the rower would sit. He gazed forward for a while, counting on his talons, before turning around to look at me. “It’ll probably take us five days to get there by boat if we spend the nights on the shore, or three days if you sleep in the boat,” he reported.
“I’d rather not sleep on the water,” I said. “That sounds like a good way to paint a bull’s eye on my back.”
“We’re actually pretty safe on the water. We’re a fast, moving target, most beasts don’t like swimming, and water lurks and demons don’t often attack arcanes. Though they may break that norm if it meant getting human flesh.”
I hugged my stomach flesh protectively. “So much for my shadow-meat shield.”
“I am so very sorry.”
I picked at my smudgy shirt, suddenly exhausted. I missed my comfy, creaky bed and the open, well-worn bedroom I shared with my sister. I missed eating fresh food. I missed not being hunted. Perhaps searching for magic in this unholy forest wasn’t such a bright idea after all. Miles had said family was more important than power, and I was beginning to think he was right. But I’d made it so far already, and if what Bluewhen had said was true, continuing on would save my family along with thousands of other humans. And, I realized, it would save Miles. He could finally leave this dark place. That alone made up for all the hardship and horror.
Miles was watching me, his expression strange. “We’re almost there,” he muttered. “Then everything will be over and the forest will be bright again.”
I didn’t say anything, unsure of who he was talking to: me or himself. Miles turned back around and faced forward again. Eventually, the rocking boat and the quiet melody of the Iss-Noor lulled me to sleep.
I woke, eyes wet, from a dream where Miles had left me lost and alone in the black, black woods. It was a relief to see his dark monster shape against the rushing water. Above, the sky was flat black. “What time is it?” I mumbled, rubbing sleep gunk from my eyes.
“Evening.” While I’d been out, Miles had positioned himself so his back pressed against the prow, mirroring me. “You shouldn’t have woken up; you’ll just have to go back to sleep.”
“Well, I’m hungry.” I dug around in my pack. I was, unfortunately, down to my last meal. “Crap.”
“I did say I’d hunt for you.”
“Yeah, but I can’t eat raw meat. I’d need a fire.” I sighed, surveying the dried meat in my hands. “Well, I suppose if I was hungry enough, I could eat my squirrel extra-extra-rare.”
“You might have to. I don’t know which plants are edible for humans.”
“I do. Sort of.”
“Encouraging. You’re going to die from bad mushrooms, aren’t you-” Miles stopped, watching the water behind me. I turned as well, the fine hairs on my arms standing up. The black water curled in our wake, and for a moment I thought everything looked normal. Then the river rippled where it shouldn’t have.
I leaned away from the edge. “Um, what is-” I never got to finish, for before the word that could leave my mouth, something long and pale tossed itself over the boat, seized my arms, and pulled me into the water.
Oh, was the water cold. But I couldn’t dwell on the icy shock, as something strong and determined was holding me under the choking water.
I tried to struggle away, but I may as well have been smacking a rock. Those fingers were like iron. I opened my eyes in a desperate attempt to see my hunter, but all I saw was black black black-
The hands were ripped away. I didn’t waste a second in kicking to the surface, where I sucked in grateful gasps of sweet, sweet air. Boat, the sensible part of my mind said. If I was on the boat, nothing could grab my ankles.
I cast around wildly and zeroed in on our little rowboat. It was doing something very strange. The front pointed down, giving me a view of the mucky underside. Then the stern disappeared after the prow.
Only after the boat was gone did I hear the roar and notice the speed of the water. The river curved away like a horizon as it bent at a right angle in a very wrong direction. My world narrowed to the smooth arc of the water and the too-distant bank as the current grabbed my legs and yanked me over the waterfall.
Stomachs speak.
As I fell alongside a thousand liters of water, mine went: no no no, over and over. Thankfully, something clicked into place in my brain and common sense found a foothold: legs straight, feet pointed, arms down, jaw tight, hold your breath-
Bubbles hissed around my face. I had time to think: thank God, no rocks, before the jumping current tumbled me through a maze of water. I smacked into a rock, grabbed a handhold, and pushed myself to the surface.
The water was a living thing, wrapping frozen arms around my waist, ripping at my clothes. I desperately gripped by rock and pulled myself as far above the surface as I could. My limbs trembled from fading adrenaline and the chill.
I looked around. Neither Miles, our boat, or the lurk were anywhere in sight. Before me rose the waterfall, a wall of black foam fifteen meters high. Yikes.
Forcing myself to focus, I took a deep breath and got my mind in order. First things first, I had to get out of the river. Large rocks broke the surface of the water, creating a path to the bank. I pushed away from my boulder and lunged for the next, fighting the current. For a horrible moment, my fingers slid on slime and I thought the river would take me, but my fingertips caught a ridge. I hugged the rock for a minute, working up the courage to swim to the next. Cold water swelled against my neck, and it felt as if my brain was icing over.
I shoved towards the next stone. This one was rougher, and I easily found purchase. I glanced over; the shore lay beyond a short stretch of rapid water. Stone pricked by forehead as I leaned against the rock, sucked in a breath, and kicked to the shore. The current pulled me downstream, but it did not suck me under. My feet found purchase on the gravel bank. I pulled myself out and collapsed, content to lay there until something came to eat me. The cold water had left me bone tired.
My eyes slipped shut. I was on the edge of sleep when a splashing sound broke the steady hiss of the current. I heard whatever monster it was kneel beside me, and I realized despairingly that I didn’t have the energy to escape. A taloned hand gently touched my cheek. Oh. It was my monster.
“Minnow. Minnow, wake up,” Miles said, his voice tight. “Minnow? Please wake up. Come on, don’t- Don’t-” His voice shuddered to a stop. I made a heroic effort to rise and managed to open my eyes sleepily and groan a bit. I focused on Miles’ black outline as he slumped with relief. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I fell down a waterfall,” I mumbled. “Duh.”
He let out a shaky laugh. “You’re completely fine. I thought- you were just lying there-”
“Sorry,” I slurred. “’M tired. And s-so cold…”
Miles scooped me up and princess-carried me away from the bank. “We need to risk a fire,” he said as he walked. “Leaving you wet and cold overnight is dangerous. I’m going to put you in a tree. Can you stay in it?”
I frowned, feeling slightly cross-eyed. “I think s-so. But why a tree?”
“You’ll be safer up there while I find your bag and our boat. We need your matches.”
“Oh.” I reached for the tree trunk as Miles lifted us into the branches of an ash. “They m-might be soaked.”
“Possibly. I’ll be right back, okay? Just hold on.”
I settled myself in a crook between a branch and the trunk, gripping the rough bark. “Literally.”
Miles laughed and floated down to the forest floor. I gripped the branch tighter, trying not to fall asleep and tip out of the tree. The world seemed to be wavering. The quiet sounds of the woods were muffled and then too loud. Rough, hard bark pressed painfully against my back. Cold, black water dripped steadily from my clothes.
I was shaking. My chest and head ached from the movement. All I wanted was to be at home, warm and comfortable in my bed with my sister’s breathing a soft lullaby. My head drooped forward and my body followed. I barely managed to catch myself on a branch, gazing down at the distant ground. Miles, please hurry.
Two hands locked around my upper arms. I blinked my eyes open. I hadn’t realized they were closed. Miles carefully lifted me out of the tree and set me on the ground, leaves crackling under me. I tried to stay sitting upright, my back against the tree. But the urge to tip sideways and start snoring was nearly overpowering.
I focused blearily on Miles, trying to puzzle out what he was saying. “-downstream. Somehow it’s mostly dry.”
“Mmm?” I mumbled.
“Your bag.” He held up the pack for emphasis. “It’s just a little splattered.”
I woke up a bit and tried to speak, my jaw starting to seize up. “Really? So you can make a f-fire?”
He nodded. “While I’m gathering dry wood, take off your wet clothes and wrap yourself in the hammock. You need to get warm.”
I agreed that yes, being warm was a priority, and told him to get lost. The moment he was out of sight I stripped with shaking arms and pulled the blessedly dry hammock around my body. Gooseflesh covered my frozen skin.
Sometime later Miles returned with an armload of firewood. “There’s an empty cave,” he reported. “It’ll be safer to build a fire there.”
He helped me stand and carried my pack and sodden clothes through the dark trees. When we arrived at the cave, I crawled inside and curled up on the dry, dusty ground, half asleep already. Miles set about building a fire. He piled the wood like someone who’d done it before, and I wondered if it was muscle memory from before he Turned.
Soon a yellow tongue of flame rose through the tent of sticks. I got up and scooched as close to the fire as I could without actually burning myself. Miles spread my clothes on the ground where they could dry.
He looked at me and smiled. “Some evening, huh?”
“Oh, sh-shush.”
He grinned, then became serious. “The lurk who dragged you under- she said she was trying to save you from going over the falls.”
I blinked, long and slow. “I think I heard you wrong. She was trying to s-save me?”
Miles shrugged. “Apparently. She was the one who’d given us the boat. Something instructed her to make sure you made it to the center of the Maw in one piece.”
I shifted nervously. “Bluewhen?”
“Maybe. But wildwitches don’t make a habit of bending shadow creatures to their will. They stay away from us, for the most part. We make them uncomfortable.”
“But who else would want us to make it to the dragon?”
Miles shrugged. “That’s the thing that’s been bothering me. It must’ve been Bluewhen. But there’s something very strange about a wildwitch making pacts with beasts. I don’t really… trust her.”
I remembered the warning Bluewhen had given me about my traveling companion. “She doesn’t trust you. Maybe her distrust caused yours. Maybe distrust is contagious.”
“I don’t think it works like that.”
I made a noncommittal sound. I was feeling much better, now that my skin was dry and warming up. Sleep pulled a bit less insistently at my eyelids. After a comfortable break in the conversation, Miles asked, “Do you want to eat something? I could catch a bird and we could roast it.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not hungry. Though we should do that anyway, so I’ll have something to eat later when we don’t have a fire.”
At the end of the word fire, my face cracked into a massive yawn. Miles grinned, showing his dagger teeth. “You sleep. I’ll take care of the roasting.”
I smacked my lips, trying to get the taste of yawn out of my mouth. “Do you know how?”
“Yes, I-” He stared at his hands and wiggled his fingers. “It’s like the fire. My hands know what to do, even though my head has forgotten.”
I nodded. “Okay, well,” I tipped over. “I’m going to sleep. Night night.” Miles reached over and tucked the hammock more securely around my body. Suddenly the fact that I was completely naked under the canvas became very, very real. Every centimeter of my skin flushed. On the bright side, I was certainly warm.
Miles stood uncomfortably, as if he too had just remembered my predicament. “Um. Get some sleep. I’ll be back soon.” When I nodded, he quickly turned and made for the cave entrance, but before he exited he gave me one last look over his shoulder, eyes uncanny shadows in the firelight. Then he left, and I felt something like sunlight spilling over inside.
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