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Daindreth
Daindreth looked ahead of them. The riverbed grew deeper the farther it went. Fed by inlets and streams, it gradually swelled. When it passed the horses’ knees, they steered back onto the riverbank.
“The Haven would need water, wouldn’t it?” he asked. “What if we followed this river?”
Amira shook her head. “Yes, but no. I told you. You’ve got to stop thinking of the Cursewood as somewhere that will make sense.”
Daindreth let a breath out his nose. He still didn’t fully understand how that was possible, but very little seemed possible in this place. He smeared sweat from his forehead.
They had drunk the last of their water this morning and his head had begun to throb with the effects of dehydration. The water at their feet was a dirty grey, brackish with gods knew what, but Daindreth was surprised to find himself tempted.
As if she shared his thoughts, Daindreth’s sorrel mare dropped her head to the water and then jerked away, snorting. If the horses wouldn’t even drink it, he and Amira shouldn’t either.
“We won’t last long in this place, Amira,” he panted. “Not without clean water.”
“I know,” Amira answered softly. “I know.” There was an edge to her voice, a tenseness that made him want to fix this—all of it—but he didn’t know where to start. “We need to keep moving,” she said. “If the kelpie chased us into the other Kadra’han, it’s possible that—” She paused, frowning. She looked ahead, downstream. “There’s something...”
“What?” Daindreth followed her line of sight. “What is it?”
“Ka,” she said. “But...different. Like something is working a spell. A large one.”
“Could it be the Kadra’han?”
Amira shook her head. “I don’t think they have that much magic.” She chewed her lip and looked to him, then her eyes went wide as she peered over his shoulder.
Daindreth twisted around to find the black shape of the kelpie emerging from the forest once again. Dark stains marked the kelpie’s muzzle, chest, and forelegs—fresh blood.
The mares didn’t notice him at first, pawing at the water.
“Plan?” Daindreth asked, adjusting the grip on his sword.
“I don’t—”
The kelpie charged again, careening down the riverbank and barreling toward them.
Their horses leapt into a gallop without hesitation.
