22

Ash

“Where is he?” My pulse races as Samsen and I wait a short distance from the river, the horses’ sides heaving, their sweat washing off with the rain. I peer up the trail. It’s lined with wet paperbark trees, their mushroom-colored hides peeling away like layers of old snakeskin. The drooping leaves slash about in the wind, and on high branches sacred ibis ride out the storm. “We shouldn’t have left him behind.”

It happened so fast. One minute, Kaylin is behind me on Rita and the next he hits the ground and catches a spear midair. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“Here he comes!” Samsen says over the sounds of the rushing river and driving rain. Behind us, the banks of the Ferus barely contain the raging water. It splashes out of the swollen riverbed, mud brown with frothy whitecaps.

“We’re trapped!” I call to Kaylin as he runs to me. I kick my foot out of the stirrup and he swings up behind. “Ferry’s on the far side and it won’t budge.”

“We’ll see about that.”

We gallop back to the river and slam to a halt at the dock.

Once again, Kaylin hits the ground running. “Be ready to board!” He bolts down the dock, soaked to the skin, his white shirt saturated to transparency. He strips it off without breaking stride. His sword hits the dock, too, and he unsheathes a buck knife. With it gripped between his teeth, he throws his hands over his head and dives into the torrent.

It’s a moment before I can slide off Rita. I stumble to my feet and gaze at the river where Kaylin went under. My heart tightens, air hardly able to escape my lungs. Slowly, I lead Rita to the pier where fringing trees toss wildly in the wind. Weak branches snap and crash into the water where they are quickly swept away. “Kaylin?” My eyes lift to the far side of the shore.

Piper stands beside me. “He’s a strong swimmer. He’ll make it.”

I watch the roiling surface and wait.

“There he is.” Samsen points across the river, shielding his eyes from the downpour with his other hand. “He’s shouting something.”

Pull the cable. I hear it loud as sanctuary bells. “Pull the cable!” I repeat.

Samsen and Piper rush to the connecting cable and haul on it with everything they have. The ferry is set up with a simple pulley system, and even in the raging current we have it snug against the end of the pier in no time.

“Load the horses,” Kaylin hollers as he unlatches the tailgate.

Piper leads Echo aboard first, but Marcus is so weak we leave him secured to the saddle. Next comes Belair, on Samsen’s Frost. The river continues to rise, splashing over the dock. I can’t see my boots or Rita’s hooves as we step onto the ferry. Bless the bones, the horses are well trained, loading reasonably well even as the raft rocks and plunges and strains against the cable.

Kaylin retrieves his sword and shirt, belting on the weapon and stuffing his shirt into his back pocket as far as it will go. “Haul!” He jumps back aboard.

Piper and Samsen pull hand over hand. I join in, but the ferry’s load is heavy and we’re not moving fast across the wild current.

“Let me, lass. And keep an eye on the riverbank. Our enemy has bows.” Kaylin hauls on the cable and the ferry cuts across the current toward the other side.

I tie the horses with a quick-release knot, in case they panic midstream, all while watching the shore. “Marcus? Can you hear me?” I grip his calf, noticing his restraints slipping.

He rouses, looking up long enough to nod before slumping back down on Echo’s neck. I attempt to retie the straps, but my hands are numb. The ties slip through my fingers, and Marcus falls onto the deck with a grunt. He tries to pull himself up between Frost and Echo. The horses snort but are careful not to tread on him.

I squat and do my best to haul him forward, yanking on his arm, but he hollers.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Sorry.” I push a mass of wet hair from his face. “You must have injured your shoulder in the fall.”

“There’s not much I didn’t injure in the fall.”

“But you saved us, Marcus.” Warmth spreads through my chest.

His grin is equal parts pride and grimace.

“Come out from under the horses’ legs.” I try to guide him. Their bellies drip mud and sweat and rainwater. The ferry bucks and plunges, water washing over the deck. With his cooperation, I drag Marcus in front of the horses and lean him against the center post. “Stay put.”

“Where would I go?”

A cheer rises from Piper and Samsen. We are nearly to the other side. But the revelry cuts short when an arrow flies toward us and thuds into the post over Marcus’s head.

“Stay behind the horses!” Kaylin yells.

I make a face at him. “Horses aren’t shields.” As I speak, two more thuds sound out. Belair screeches and Frost fires both iron-shod hooves into the tailgate. It splinters and sails off its hinges, the river sweeping it away. The ferry bobs, straining to follow.

“Belair!” I go to him, finding an arrow deep in his left shoulder. The white horse has one in the rump, blood running dark down her hind leg. “You have to get down.” More arrows come at us. I haul on Belair and he tumbles out of the saddle then hits the deck hard. I clamp pressure around the wound as blood rises through his sheepskin coat. “Piper, help!”

Belair grits his teeth and pants, cursing me in Tangeen. “Tell Piper to wait and see if we survive the crossing. No point in wasting her time if I’m about to die.”

“You’re not about to die.” My hands are drenched in his blood.

“Don’t be too hasty to judge, lass.” Kaylin points to the shore.

I turn back to see a wall of Aturnians skidding to a stop at the edge of the river. “C’hac no.” The riders dismount, drop to their knees, not to raise phantoms, but to fit their bows. Belair is right. We’re all going to fall from the path today.

Kaylin draws his sword. “Stand clear!” To me he says, “Hold on tight, lass.” He raises the Aturnian blade high over his head.

“What are you doing?” Samsen shouts as the Aturnians release their bowstrings. A slew of arrows streams toward us like a swarm of hornets.

At the same moment, Kaylin’s sword slices the cable clean in two. “Watch your heads!”

The line snakes through the pulley at lightning speed and flies free. The ferry careens downstream, arrows missing us by an arm’s length. My stomach slams into my mouth as I grip the railing. By the time the archers reload, they’re too far away for another shot. Meanwhile the raft races over the rapids.

Samsen clings to the narrow railing. “You’re mad!”

“And you, my good savant, are alive.” Kaylin slides by the horses to reach me.

“Where are you going now?” Samsen demands.

“Not far, I assure you. This vessel is small.”

“It is also without a rudder. You can’t just let us speed down the river.”

“Aye, but there are no true rapids, yet. We’ll see them when we near the falls.”

Samsen wipes water from his face and pushes back his hair. “Falls? How soon?”

Kaylin tilts his head, listening. “About two minutes. We best tend to Belair. That arrow has to come out in case he needs to swim.”

“Swim?” Samsen cuts loose a stream of curses, which, under more serene circumstances, would impress me. As it is, we’re all swearing up a storm.

“I take it we’ve had a change of plans?” Belair opens his eyes.

I grip the rail with one hand and press his shoulder with the other.

“Not to worry, though,” Samsen says as he squats down on the other side of the Tangeen. “Apparently, we have two minutes.”

“One and a half, now,” Kaylin says casually.

“Then what?” Belair asks.

“Rapids.”

Belair groans.

“Shouldn’t we remove it under more hygienic conditions?” I ask, trying to digest everything that’s happening.

“Not with an Aturnian arrow. They do like their poisons.”

Belair groans again.

Kaylin straddles him, grips the shaft with both hands, and puts one bare foot on the Tangeen’s chest. “Exhale, mate.”

“Wait!” Belair protests.

Samsen grabs his shoulders and Kaylin yanks.

The squeal out of Belair’s mouth is ear-piercing. It rips through the rain, the rapids, and the roar of the Aturnians shouting on the distant bank.

Kaylin gestures at the horses’ hooves. “Clay from the riverbank. Quickly now.”

I know what he means before the words are out of his mouth. I lean against Rita’s shoulder and grip her shaggy fetlock. She takes the cue, braces her other three legs, and lifts her hoof. “Good girl.” Rain washes the mud off her iron shoe, and sure enough, her frog is packed with clean red clay. I unsheathe my belt knife with one hand and pry out a gooey chunk, handing it off to Kaylin.

He packs the wound and does up Belair’s coat just in time for us to hear a roar above the churning water.

“Hold on.” Kaylin can’t quite hide a smile. “It’s a bit of a ride.”

“That’s all we’re going to do?” I say. “Hold on?”

“No. We’re going to untie the horses, just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“The ferry splinters into a hundred pieces and we all have to swim for it.”

The ferry pitches and drops, whitewater rapids closing in on both sides. The horses are petrified, tails tucked, heads high, and eyes rolled into the backs of their skulls. Piper and Samsen cling to the port railing, but as we crash into a standing wave, their rail rips away. Kaylin reaches out with both hands and pulls them back from the edge. They transfer their grip to Echo’s saddle and tail, while the mare stands quivering.

How the deck is in one piece, I don’t know. I lose my footing when another wave washes over us, but I have one arm wrapped around the center piling and anchor to it. When I think we have made it, the raft free-falls for several seconds then smacks down with a bang. The deck submerges, water up to my waist, before it buoys to the surface again.

And then, as if it had belonged to the raging rapids, the wind drops and the downpour fades into a drizzle.

The ferry drifts silently on a wide lake while the fading rain makes dimples in the otherwise calm surface. We’re all panting, hearts pounding. The horses gingerly shift their weight to a narrower stance and flutter out soft breaths. “We made it?” I swipe water from my face and rub my eyes.

We continue to float down the middle of the expanse, far from the misty banks and overhanging trees. Forest birds call, like whips cracking in the distance, and bullfrogs moan on either shore, stopping abruptly when we approach only to start up again once we’ve passed. The rain trickles away to nothing, and a light fog rises from the water like steam.

“We made it,” I say, more confident this time.

Samsen slaps Kaylin on the back. “That was some ride, sailor.”

When I look down at Marcus and Belair, I realize what is gone. “The saddlebags?”

“Couldn’t hold ’em,” Marcus says.

“Our gold? The records? Everything?” Not to mention clothes and supplies and map. Piper’s healing kit.

I look to Kaylin, but he’s busy tying rope to a ring in the center of the ferry. I drop to my knees and check Belair. His eyes are round as an owl’s.

“You all right?”

He gives his head one quick nod, but I’m not sure which of us he’s trying to convince more.

I turn to Marcus. “You?”

“Sorry about the records,” he says.

“We’re alive. That’s what counts.” I rub the circulation back into his arms then suddenly stop to listen. “Do you hear that?”

His eyes close. “My heart pounding in my throat? You hear it, too?”

“No, the humming.” It grows louder and turns into a rumbling drone. I tug on Kaylin’s pant leg and he kneels beside me, eye level. His face is very close, so close I can see gold flecks embedded in the dark sea green of his eyes. “Kaylin, what am I hearing?”

He ties a thick rope around his waist. “The falls.”

“Behind us?”

“In front.”

“The Capper Point Falls?” I stand up, going on tiptoe, but can’t see beyond the calm and the mist.

“Best untack the horses, everyone, fast as you can.”

“What now?” Piper asks.

“We’re all going for a swim.” The look on Kaylin’s face makes us spring to action. Buckles and straps are hard to undo with cold, stiff hands, but I have Rita’s saddle and bridle off in good time. The others are untacked as well.

“We have to move.” Kaylin finishes securing the rope around his waist.

“Move?” I ask. “Tell me how in the name of the deep dark Drop we are going to survive the Capper Point Falls!”

“We’re going to hike down beside them.” The raft twists to the side and picks up speed as he speaks.

“Shove the horses off,” Kaylin commands and dives into the water.

“The horses?” Both hands go to my temples. “Shove them off?”

The roar increases, and the lip of the falls comes into view. White mist rises around it, stirred by the pummeling water below. Rita leans against me for comfort. “You want us to push the horses into the water?” I shout at the dark surface where Kaylin last was seen.

He pops up much farther away. “It’s their only chance.”

Marcus protests as he struggles to stand. “They’ll drown.”

“They can make it to shore,” Samsen says. “If I were you, I’d be more distressed for those of us who may not.”

Kaylin’s right: we have to do this. I kiss Rita’s nose and step aside as Samsen slaps her rump. The mare’s reluctant but soon bunches her legs together and leaps into the water. The splash washes over the deck and Echo is pushed off behind her, all while Marcus protests.

Samsen removes Frost’s arrow from her rump and she jumps into the water, leaving him standing there with the bloody arrow in his hand. The little ferry dips and shoots sideways, floating much higher now, and faster. The three horses swim for the western shore, only nostrils, eyes, and ears visible above the surface. For every length forward they gain, the current drags them farther downstream, toward the falls.

“Will they make it?” I follow their progress as the ferry moves parallel with them.

“One way or another,” Piper says. “Hope we can say the same for us.”

By then Kaylin nearly reaches the opposite shore.

“What’s he doing?” Marcus clings tight to the central post.

I crouch next to Marcus. “Trying to save our lives.” I make Kaylin out in the mist-cloaked willows. He swings up into a stout branch and unties the rope from around his waist.

“Hold on,” he shouts and loops the rope around the branch twice before it pulls taut. The ferry strains to a halt. I grip the railing and wave at Kaylin. “You did it!” Though bobbing in the middle of the current, tethered to a tree branch by a straining rope isn’t a permanent solution. Kaylin waves back and dives into the water.

Seconds later, his mop of curly black hair breaks the surface and his hands clamp onto the deck. He’s up in one motion, slinging water out of his eyes. “You can go hand over hand to the shore,” he says. “Belair first, the strongest swimmers last.”

“Strongest? Only Ash can swim,” Samsen says. “And the Tangeen, though not so well with an arrow wound.”

“Then don’t let go.” He pulls Belair into the river, one arm around his chest, the other gripping the rope. “Roll onto your back,” Kaylin commands.

Belair complies and manages to keep his head above water.

Kaylin flips onto his back as well and wraps his legs around Belair’s chest in a wrestler’s hold. He hauls on the rope, hand over hand, towing Belair quickly toward the bank. “Be at it, all of you.”

We stare after him.

Marcus recovers first. “You next, Ash.” He struggles to his feet.

“Strongest swimmer last,” I say. “You’re next.”

There’s no time for argument. Marcus reaches for the rope, holds it tight, and falls into the river. “Keep the party’s number to five,” he mumbles. Then he copies Kaylin’s technique and turns onto his back, holding his upper body high out of the water. Probably too high. He’ll use up all his arm strength. He pulls himself toward the safety of the bank, his injured arm slipping more with each new grip. Piper follows, then Samsen, then me.

I lower myself in and hold tight, arms already trembling. The weight of my coat drags me down, so with one hand, I undo the buttons and shrug out of it. The current carries it away. The water is ink black and bottomless under the clouded sky, making my mind shift to what creatures lurk below.

“Don’t dally.”

My inner voice needn’t bother. I’ve every intent of hurrying to shore. Though whether the warning comes from the threat of the falls or what lies below, I can’t guess.

“It’s the—”

Don’t tell me.

I crane my neck, trying to spot Kaylin. He is only a few lengths from the willow tree, Belair safe in his grip when the raft slowly arcs toward the shore. The line slackens ahead of me and Marcus lets out a cry. The horses shriek, and I jerk around in time to see Frost disappear over the falls. The other two are nowhere in sight. My eyes close tight. No. No. No.

“Ash,” Kaylin calls to me. “Keep coming.”

Before I can start up again, the raft hits a rock, the far side lifting out of the water, the front end plowing under the waves. Splinters fly into the air, and the rope goes completely slack.

“Hold your breath.”

I sink with the rope until it slowly rises back to the surface in time for me to see Marcus, Samsen, and Piper whisk by, gulping for air. They didn’t hang onto the rope!

I hear Kaylin shouting, “No!” even as I let go and swim for Marcus.

But the current’s too fast.

We’re all headed straight for the falls.