The freezing impact drove the air from Tristan’s lungs and made his body seize. He gasped and sucked in water. Precious air exploded from his mouth and he scrambled to the surface. He broke through in an explosion of water droplets, the world spinning around him in dizzying arcs of shadowed cliffs and green canopies. He had just enough time to cough out water and inhale one lungful of air before the current dragged him under again.
He tried to keep his eyes open to look for Aspen, but it was a hopeless endeavor. Silver streams of current churned the riverbed and forced silt into his eyes, nose, and ears. He kept his lips pressed together to prevent air from escaping, but as his chest expanded with it and nearly burst, and his limbs thrashed with the need for fresh air, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He needed to suck in something. Anything. The dark depths of the churning water filled his vision. His ears rung. His lungs heaved for air.
Let go. Let go, something whispered to him through the current. You can let go.
Tristan wanted so desperately to do that—the water was so warm, the voice so soothing—but he couldn’t. Something waited for him… Someone…
Aspen!
He fought for the surface again, but a hand caught his ankle. Something glowed on his skin, and then a flash shot through the water. A voice screamed, and the hand retracted like it had been burned.
“He is marked!” that same voice said, now wracked with pain.
Tristan barely heard the words. His vision had faded to nothing but a pinprick of light. The last of his breath shot from his mouth in a riot of bubbles. His limbs had gone numb.
And then there was air! He sucked it in greedily, his feeling and mind returning to him. He opened his eyes and found himself encircled by a cluster of beings covered in algae-colored scales with golden waves of hair. They regarded him with weapons of ice clutched in their webbed hands, their golden eyes cold and hostile.
“We are the guardians of this river,” one said in a language hardly discernible from the rush of the river currents. It bore its fangs in a snarl. “You bear the mark of our sister naiads.” He gestured to Tristan’s ankle, where a white, glowing hand print stood out in stark relief against his skin. “For that, we are duty bound to give you air, but do not mistake that for a welcome.”
Tristan tried to wrap his head around what that all meant. He shook his head free of the questions swirling there. They didn’t matter. He had to find Aspen. “What about my friend? Have you given her air?”
“Your friend serves a greater purpose. Our Life Giver is weak, but shall be no more.”
Tristan’s eyes widened and his heart plummeted. “What?”
They didn’t answer him. Instead, they clasped their hands together and chanted in a language that sounded like the ripples of a mountain lake. The rims of their irises glowed white. The water churned around Tristan, and before he could so much as protest, they shot him from the river in a pillar of water and deposited him on the banks, sopping wet. Coughing and fighting against his drenched clothes, he scrambled to his feet and ran downriver. If they hadn’t given Aspen air…he didn’t know how long she had been down there. He didn’t want to think about it, but an icy dread had already clawed its way to his chest.
The naiads had disappeared back into the depths of the river, and Tristan saw no sign of Aspen. She had to be there somewhere.
And then he saw it. A pale, white-green glow, almost indiscernible from the rest of the river—magic from Aspen, the naiads, or both. Either of them would help him find her. He dove in, not sure what he intended to do after that. The air the naiads had granted him returned around him.
Through the murk, a huge plant emerged, nestled on the river floor and swaying in time with the currents. Thorn-covered vines wove together in intricate knots and forests while fish darted between them. It glowed white-green, its thorns nearly blinding with the light, and emitted spores of light into the river currents. Tristan’s gut wrenched as he realized what it was.
Serpent root.
As the thought entered his mind, a group of naiads appeared, each with a grip on Aspen’s limbs. She had a curtain of air around her and struggled against her captors, kicking and biting where she could. However, anytime she would get a limb free, her air bubble disappeared, and the naiads forced water into her mouth until she was clutching at her throat, her stomach and cheeks bloated from the onslaught. When they had hold of her again, they granted her air again. Water poured from her mouth and nose as she struggled to breathe, but then she would look at them with that determined fire in her eyes and try again.
As the group approached the serpent root forest, one naiad began to pray.
“Oh, Life Giver that grants us the magic to live in these peaceful waters far from the chaos of the surface, we bring thee nourishment.”
They draped a wreath of serpent root about Aspen’s neck and shoulders. The vine came alive and buried deep thorns into Aspen’s collar bone, glowing green with her magic. All the color drained from her face, and she sagged between the naiads, spitting curses.
“We bring thee this life and magic, so that thou mayest protect us forevermore.” They moved as one and approached the serpent root forest. The vines glowed brighter and reached hungry feelers out for her. She tried once more to wrench free, but the serpent root around her neck glowed brighter and she seized in pain.
“Aspen!” Tristan’s cry echoed in the water, filling the entire river. Without thinking, he launched himself from a rock and propelled straight for Aspen. One naiad reached out to stop him. He twisted away, and his hand brushed her arm. She shrieked. The sound amplified a thousand fold in the water and ricocheted off the river banks. Tristan clapped his hands to his ears, lights flashing behind his eyelids.
The naiad sobbed and cradled her arm. Red blisters coated her scaled skin, hissing and festering with heat as if she’d been burned. “He’s been marked!”
While the naiads were distracted, Aspen broke free of her other captors, but not fast enough. They hissed in unison, and her air bubble extinguished itself. She flailed, her lips turning bluer and her skin paler by the moment. She tried to swim for the surface, but the naiads dragged her down by her ankle. The fight left her bit by bit as she writhed for air.
Tristan panicked. His vision blurred and his mouth moved faster than his mind. “That’s right, I’m marked!” He spread his arms wide and puffed out his chest, trembling with fear and adrenaline. “I will burn anyone who dares to lay a hand on me!” He thrust his hand forward and the creatures shied away. “Release the woman and return her to me. After you have done this, I will let you leave in peace.”
“He wishes for us to steal from the Life Giver—from our god and maker.” They all narrowed their eyes to dangerous slits, spears of water forming in their hands. “We would rather be burned.”
Tristan cursed. He’d pressed his luck too far. He shoved himself off a nearby rock as they threw their spears at him. The spears hissed by in a curtain of searing bubbles, but they missed him. He shot through the middle of the naiads, brushing his hands along their skin to keep them at bay. They wailed and swam backward, forming new weapons. He got to Aspen and tried to breathe air into her, but the bubble around him didn’t reach her. He had to get her to the surface.
“He will kill the Life Giver!” One naiad rushed him, burying a watery dagger into his bicep and ramming his shoulder into Tristan’s stomach. The blow threw Tristan into the river’s depths, trailing blood and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath, and he let go of Aspen. Another naiad seized her again and swam her back to the serpent root forest. The other naiads closed in around Tristan, circling and snatching at pieces of him. They tore his hair. Scraped their razor-edged weapons across his cheeks. Ripped his clothes. Jabbed more watery blades at him. He dodged most of them, sustaining only a few nicks here and there, but they had set up a curtain of currents that was slowly tightening a noose around him. Soon, he would have nowhere to go. He screamed in frustration as Aspen was taken further from him.
“Even if we cannot touch you,” one naiad said, “you will pay for stealing from the Life Giver.” A spear scraped the skin along Tristan’s ribs, and he cried out. The naiad smiled. “We will keep you here, trapped in your air, until you die of thirst surrounded by water. You will then join your friend in the blessed embrace of our god.”
They threw Aspen into the serpent root forest. Tristan screamed.
A body crashed into the midst of the fray and sent the creatures scattering. The binding currents around Tristan vanished. Someone grabbed him through the curtain of bubbles that had appeared. A flash of blonde. A pair of gold eyes. The moment they made contact, though, they recoiled in shock, their hands burned.
The bubbles parted and there was Styrax, surrounded in swirling currents and gaping at his hand. “You’ve been marked!” He grinned at Tristan, relief flooding his face.. “I thought you had drowned!”
Tristan smiled like an idiot, tears of his own relief flooding his eyes. “You have the best timing!”
The naiads banded back together, more weapons forming in their hands as they glared daggers at Styrax. Currents formed around them again, steaming with heat and venom and fury.
“We have been told of you, traitor,” they said. “A thief who steals from his maker.”
Styrax’s smile faded. Something dangerous—almost feral—darkened his eyes. All the lines tightened along his jaw and mouth. He swam in front of Tristan and faced the naiads, currents fanning around him like a shield. “Get Aspen. I’ll keep them busy.”
Tristan wanted to protest—he couldn’t leave Styrax on his own, not after what had happened with Aspen in the village—but realized he didn’t need to. The river surged around Styrax like a team of horses waiting to be given their head. He emitted pure power—a lightning storm ready to be released, and ten times stronger than any of the other naiads. Styrax seemed to be an element incarnate, and Tristan watched him in awe.
Trusting in Styrax’s care entirely, Tristan turned his back on the naiads and swam for Aspen.
“We will not allow this!” the naiads bellowed. Something exploded through the water and the shock of it sent Tristan tumbling forward in a spray of steaming bubbles. He didn’t look back. Styrax would have it under control. He knew it.
He propelled himself forward, straining every muscle through his shoulders and back. Water streamed around his face and ears, too fast for anything under his own power. Styrax had to have been helping him.
One naiad blocked Tristan’s way, guarding Aspen as she was pulled deeper into the serpent root. More light spores erupted from the forest and the naiads’ skin glowed a deeper green, the magic around it growing. Tristan didn’t care. He screamed a battle cry and shoved his hands into the naiad’s face. It tried to dodge, but he snatched it by the arm. It shrieked and tried to wrench free. Tristan put his palm over its face. Scales melted, scorched flakes swirling away in the currents. It howled and struggled, but then went limp. Tristan couldn’t tell if it was alive or dead. He should have felt some remorse, but right now he didn’t care. He needed to get to Aspen.
“You would steal our livelihood too, oh lonely one?” a naiad asked Styrax with a growl, bleeding from a head wound. “Was one curse not enough for you?”
“The traitor cursed to wander the world of men in an unnatural body. How does it feel to be the only one of your kind? The banished abomination?” They sent a crushing, swirling current of water at Styrax. He nullified it with a cross current, which also washed away a hail of ice shards aimed at his heart.
Tristan made it to the serpent root. All he could see of Aspen was a few strands of hair and one pale hand. The rest had been pulled into the heart of the forest. He picked up a sharp rock and dove in after her, cutting his way through the vines to get to her. The naiads shrieked as if he were brutalizing them. He saw flashes as they tried to break through Styrax’s barrier, but he held firm.
“Kill another Life Giver and you will lose all hope of redemption. Your probation will have been for naught. Are you prepared to be alone for eternity?”
“Better alone than a murderer!” Styrax said, veins popping on his forehead as he battled off their attacks. “Tristan! Do you have her?”
Tristan slashed the last piece of the vine to free Aspen and wrapped his arms beneath hers. “Yes!”
“Hold on! When you get to the surface, run fast and far!” Styrax thrust his hand up, and Tristan and Aspen shot away from the naiads like an arrow, straight for the surface.
Tristan erupted from the water, Aspen gripped tightly to him. He lugged her from the water as it churned behind him with Styrax’s and the naiads’ magic. Tristan laid Aspen flat and blew into her mouth with all the breath he could give. He then thumped on her chest, trying to force the water from her. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Only laid there, silent, as the glowing serpent root around her neck faded.
“ASPEN!” He wrenched the serpent root off her and threw it back into the river. It trailed scarlet droplets of her blood. He shook her and blew into her mouth again. No. No, no, no. He couldn’t have been too late. She couldn’t be…Not after everything she had been through—everything he had put her through. She was too stubborn for that. This wouldn’t be the end. Couldn’t be.
A sob hitched in his chest. “Aspen, come on!” He blew one more time, praying to the same gods that had saved her from Sorren’s magic. The silver ring around his neck brushed against his arm, glinting green.
For evergreens and aspen trees.
Water erupted from her throat and nose and she gasped herself awake, rolling over to vomit out the rest of her ordeal.
A sob broke through Tristan’s throat. He crushed her to him. She tried to say something, but he held her too tightly. “You’re all right. You’re okay!” he said, as much for himself as for her. That had been too close.
He let her go and they sat back, sucking in air. Shock crept through Tristan’s muscles and made him shake. Realization began to set in, seizing in his veins and making his heart skip a beat. They had almost died. If it hadn’t been for Styrax, they would have—
The river exploded. Styrax flung from the water and landed with a sloshing thump against the river bank. He shakily got to his feet and noticed Tristan and Aspen. His face paled with dread. “What are you still doing here? I told you to get away!”
The river separated from the riverbed, floating and undulating like a serpent, its hide glittering in the first rays of morning sun. Water roared around the riverbed as it drained into the floating current. Fish dropped from it like so many silver coins. The naiads glowed white at its heart, whatever words they were chanting spilling over each other in a waterfall of syllables. The snake lashed out. It missed Styrax and crashed into the ravine wall. The cliff face crumbled. Tristan flung himself over Aspen to protect her from the worst of it.
“What’s happening?” she shouted, her eyes not quite focusing. She pushed him off her and stood with shaking limbs.
“Magic!”
“Helpful!” She drew her sword, still uncertain on her feet, and faced the river, ready to fight. Her eyes threatened to roll back in her head, and blood oozed from her clammy, gray-tinted skin. She was in no condition to fight, but she stood her ground anyway. Tristan moved to her side.
Before they could do anything, though, an arrow thudded into one naiad’s shoulder. The river snake careered away, thrashing as the naiads tried to right themselves.
“Take that, you slimy murderers!” Ash called from atop the ravine.
They hissed in response.
Styrax unburied himself from the rubble of the cliff-side, eyes glowing and hair whipping about him in a non-existent breeze. A current swept Aspen and Tristan up and carried them up the ravine walls, Styrax close behind. The naiads screamed and shot the water snake toward them. It bashed against them, driving them deeper and deeper into the ravine wall with every blow, but Styrax’s magic shielded them from all but bruises.
And then they were up and away, skating across treetops on Styrax’s magic. Styrax had grabbed Ash, and they all fled as the river reared its vengeful head. The wind whipped through their hair and leached moisture from their eyes. Birds erupted from the trees, shrieking in alarm. Bolts of water followed the group, mowing trees down in deadly sprays of water and splinters. Styrax dodged the direct hits, but all of them sustained gashes from the flying wood. The water snake did not pursue them.
“You have killed us, traitor!” it screamed in many voices merged in one. “With our Life Giver starved, we will perish, just as your mother and sisters have!”
Styrax gasped as if they had shot him. The water currents continued to churn beneath their group, but they turned sluggish and muddy. The snake river receded beneath the treetops, hissing curses as it went. A thunderous splash marked its final resting place back in the riverbed, and then all fell quiet. After it had been gone for more than a few heartbeats, Styrax lowered them to the ground. He staggered away from them, clutching his chest.
Tristan ran to him, supporting him beneath the shoulders. “Styrax, what happened?” he asked.
Styrax shook his head and righted himself. “Hand me Aspen.”
Tristan wanted to argue, but he knew Aspen needed the help. She leaned, glassy-eyed and sagging, against Ash, unable to stand on her own. Tristan and Ash helped her over, and Tristan watched both Aspen and Styrax in concern.
If Styrax noticed, he ignored him. He asked Aspen to open her mouth. She did so sluggishly, eyelids drooping.
“You almost drowned,” he said. “There will still be water in your lungs, and we need to get that out.”
Aspen nodded. Styrax’s eyes glowed white, and two globes of water oozed their way out of Aspen’s throat. Styrax flung them away. “Good, that should be every—” His legs gave way beneath him, eyes rolling back in his head. Tristan caught him before he could fall. Styrax snapped back to consciousness and nodded his thanks.
“That’s all I’ve got,” he said breathlessly, sweat dripping down his brow. “Might be good to start some fires and take off your wet clothes.”
“No-no fires,” Aspen said. She shook her head as if clearing cobwebs and straightened a little. “We still don’t know where Laire and that sorcerer are. They might find us.”
“Architects have them all,” Ash said with venom, wiping sopping hair away from her face. “At least I got a good shot at one of them.”
Styrax nodded. “Bundle up with everything dry you have. Naiad waters have a way of sinking into the skin if you’re not careful. Could freeze you from the inside out.”
They paired off and left for relative privacy. Tristan peeled off his sopping pants and went to lift his shirt off. A cry of pain wrenched from his throat as his wounded shoulder lit on fire, the arrowhead grinding against muscle and bone. The cold water had numbed it, and he had almost forgotten it was there.
“By the Architects, Tristan, what is that?” Styrax wavered to his feet and marched to Tristan. His eyes widened when he saw the wound. “Sit down and let me look at that shoulder!”
“Can I put trousers on first?” he asked with a weak attempt at a smile.
Styrax pursed his lips and nodded.
“We’re all a sorry lot, aren’t we?” Tristan tugged on a dry pair with some effort and sat down.
Styrax said nothing, but his dour expression deepened.
Tristan tilted his head back and shut his eyes, a wave of nausea washing over him. Mother Night, he hurt. “Are you sure you’re up for tending this? You’re pretty spent.”
In response, Styrax cut Tristan’s tunic off and knotted it. “Bite on this.”
Tristan did, and Styrax dug out the arrowhead and what remained of the shaft. Tristan screamed and clenched his teeth through at least three layers of the tunic before he blacked out.
When he came to again, he was drenched in cold sweat, but the worst of it was over. Styrax wrapped a bandage over the newly stitched wound, his jaw clamped tight. Tristan had never seen him so angry.
“Styrax, what—?”
It was as if he had broken open a dam. Styrax whirled on him, eyes blazing. “What kind of stupid, idiot thing did you think you were doing, jumping into the river like that?”
Tristan leaned back from his fury. “I-I was trying to help—”
“And did you consider the fact that there may have been other people more suited to the task? People that weren’t injured or could, I don’t know, breathe underwater?”
“I didn’t think about it, I just sort of did…it.” Tristan let the words trail off. He knew he wasn’t helping himself.
Styrax looked ready to implode. “You’re right! You didn’t think, which is exactly the problem! You could have died!”
“But I didn’t! I was marked!”
“But you didn’t know you were! I don’t think you even really know what it means!”
“Well, what does it mean?”
Styrax tore at his hair. “It means you were stupid enough to tangle with naiads before, and somehow lived to tell the tale!” He paced for a few minutes, breathing deeply. It looked as if he was trying to vent his anger out of his body before he exploded again. Finally, he sat down, pulling at his hair and head hung low. “You exhaust me.”
Tristan studied his hands, feeling like a child that had just been scolded. His pride rankled a bit, but he knew it came from a place of genuine care and concern. He couldn’t fault Styrax for that. “Styrax, I’m sorry.”
Styrax scoffed, but some of the tension left his body. “You should be,” he said. He looked at Tristan, his expression vulnerable. “You’re the only friend I’ve got left.” His lip quivered slightly. “And, apparently, now the only family, too. Please be more careful with yourself.”
Tristan wanted to ask what he meant by that—what the naiads had meant—but Styrax seemed too fragile for that at the moment. Both he and Tristan needed some levity.
“What about Ash?” Tristan asked so that he didn’t have to address his own feelings. He had been terrified, and it was nice to know that someone would care if he was gone. “Seems like you and she are a little more than friendly, or at least you’d like to be.”
Styrax buried his face in his hands. “I should have just let you drown.”
Tristan chuckled, trying to ignore the terrified lump in his throat and his pounding heart. It had all been far, far too close. He and Aspen would have both been dead if not for Styrax. He leaned forward and patted Styrax on the shoulder. “Thank you for saving us, really.” He wished there was a better way for him to say it—to convey everything racing through his mind. It sounded too trite. Too easy.
Styrax lifted his head with a small smile. Tristan saw in his eyes that he had understood exactly what Tristan meant. “You’re welcome.” He leaned back on his palms, watching clouds pass overhead. “Just don’t make me do it again.”