Chapter 46 #3
‘We are too close!’ The words come from Stide. The Sanning’s muscles are taut as she tries to lever the vines further away from the bank. ‘We will not free him from here.’
The others follow her lead, shifting their grasps further back on the vines, but it makes no difference.
My stomach sinks. Even if they pull until their arms break, Fen isn’t coming out, not like this.
Maybe if we had an extra hour. Maybe if the tide wasn’t already creeping higher around us. But we don’t. The water is rising, and my arms are shaking as I fight to keep Fen’s head above the surface.
There has to be another way. There has to be.
I won’t give up now!
Kyor looks at me and I brace myself for him to say we’ve done everything we can. But he doesn’t say that. Instead, his voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and authoritative. ‘Everyone, let go of the vine!’
‘We let go, the tide will take them all!’ Stide calls back.
‘Not if you do what I say now!’ Kyor yells back.
It’s back, the commanding tone of one who knows how to ensure his people survive.
‘Kyor?’ I call.
‘Can you make the vine taut?’ he asks. ‘Strip out the slack. You can do that, right?’
‘Yes,’ I say, though my voice, thick and slow, barely sounds like mine. ‘Yes.’
Goddess, help me, I entreat Etta.
I don’t know if I have the energy for more magic, but somehow I dig deep and find more.
It’s torpid. Heavy. I’ve already spent so much, and the cold is burrowing deep, turning my limbs clumsy. Still, I push. I have to. All the while, Kyor is ensuring the vine’s secured to a thick, ancient tree.
‘Rose is draining herself!’ Benny yells out. ‘She needs to stop!’
‘Just a bit more,’ I mutter back to him. ‘Just a bit more.’
‘That’s enough!’ he snaps, wading up beside me, his hands firm on my arms as if I’m the one about to sink. ‘That’s enough. I’ve got you now.’
I don’t know if I let my magic pull away from the vines, or whether I have no more to give, but as it peters out into nothing I know I’ve done all I can.
‘Move away from Fen!’ Kyor calls to us urgently.
‘No,’ I say weakly, ‘I need to stay with him.’ My words slow.
‘It’s the only way to save him!’ Kyor roars. ‘It’s this, or he dies. MOVE!’
Benny lifts me and puts me on his back like I’m a small child. ‘Hold on to my shoulders, Rose.’
My hands are so cold I can barely get them to clamp around him, but somehow I do, and Benny begins hauling us back to the riverbank, one slow, safe step on the rocks at a time.
‘We’re so cold,’ I mutter, my mind blurring and my body unable to feel the water that continues to smash against me. ‘We’re so cold.’
Behind us, Fen’s whine cuts through the rush of the water and panic grips me. ‘I need to get to him! I … I …’
It’s as though I can feel the water in his nostrils. Feel Mortidem’s grip taking hold, awaiting one final tug to claim him as his own. I struggle to twist around, desperate to return to the wolf.
Yet before I can move, Benny clamps his arms around me, holding me in place. ‘We’re clear!’ he hollers to Kyor. ‘Do it! Now!’
Kyor hesitates, just a beat, but then he looks upwards and calls to the clouds boiling in the sky above.
Lightning tears down, striking the thick tree at the base of its trunk with a crack that splits the air. The tree groans, wood screaming as it begins to topple.
I see what Kyor’s doing.
The ancient falling tree becomes a lever, dragging the vines with its huge weight. Fen’s body lurches free as the mud finally loses its grip, and for the first time since this began, Mortidem loosens his hold on the wolf.
Fen takes in a ragged, relieved breath as his paws are freed from the sucking mud, and on the shoreline, Elska drops to her stomach in pure relief.
He’s free!
I smile, even as a surge of water slams into me, knocking me sideways. Strong hands catch me before I can go under.
‘I’ve got you,’ Benny says tightly. ‘I’ve got you, Rose.’
‘Is he out?’ I gasp, my vision blurring as I let the cold finally win. ‘Is he out? Is he okay?’
My teeth stop chattering, and I actually feel warm. Having lived in the cold my whole life, I know what that means.
I’m in trouble, real trouble. But at least Fen will live.
Not without you, Little Raven. His voice is rueful in my head, but I can feel his nearness and know he is coming closer.
I look up from Benny’s shoulder to see Fen next to me, swimming. He climbs out of the riverbed very carefully, paws touching naught but rocks. He’s a smart wolf; he’s learned his lesson. That’s good.
I didn’t learn mine.
I’m out of the water and everyone is shouting, everything blurring into motion and noise – voices, hands, the rush of the river. They’re fussing over me, but all I can think about is Fen.
‘Is he out? Is he safe?’
We’ll both be fine, a now-familiar voice murmurs, close and steady. Thanks to you, stubborn Little Raven.
The cold is everywhere now – creeping into my bones, my thoughts – and my eyelids are suddenly too heavy to lift. I need to rest. I deserve rest now. Rest for as long as it takes. The last thing I see before sleep claims me is a pair of olive-green eyes ringed with white – steady and alive.