Chapter 14 #3
He drew a steadying breath. Things were not as fully under control as he would like. But, well, his trousers were wet and tight and probably secure enough to disguise any untoward happenings.
Luna beckoned him again with more enthusiasm. He couldn’t disappoint her.
Muttering prayers to gods he did not believe in, Nigel planted his hands on the edge of the pool and heaved himself up.
Water streamed from his undershirt and suspenders, from his saturated trousers and puddled around his bare feet.
He shook himself out like a dog, hair flapping and falling over his forehead.
Then, tossing that hair back from his forehead, he looked up to where Luna stood a few steps higher than him.
She was watching him. Her eyes were very round, but her expression was otherwise a complete mask.
There was an uncharacteristic stillness about her, as though something deep in her center had suddenly quickened with tension.
Her lips were slightly parted, and he watched her chest rise and fall with the expulsion of a breath.
“What?” Nigel said and looked down at himself, searching for water weeds or some disgusting lakebed creature. “Do I have something on me?”
Luna swallowed. Then, with a quick shake of her head and no other answer, she turned about-face and continued climbing up the stoney path.
Nigel followed after, taking special care not to let his eyes linger on her wet, practically-naked body.
It was a trial of will beyond anything he’d ever faced in all his born days.
But for her sake, and for the sake of the high esteem in which he held her, he rallied his forces and kept his gaze firmly averted. For the most part.
By the time they reached the top of the three waterfalls, the oppressive heat in the atmosphere had done its work.
Both of them were sweating and steaming faintly, all the coolness of their swim undone.
Luna stepped into the river, which was no more than calf-deep at this point.
Her arms outstretched, she tottered out to the point close to where the water poured over the edge.
“See!” she cried, shouting to be heard over the waterfall’s noise, and pointed.
Nigel stepped to her side, feeling the pressure of the current against his calves.
He saw what she had discovered—a subtly-placed tubing system, leading all the way from this topmost point down to the bottom pool.
He wasn’t convinced how safe it might be.
Alfred P. Grimm may have built it with the aim of “toughening up” his two namby sons, in which case, Nigel wouldn’t send his worst enemy hurtling down that way.
But Luna put her hand on his shoulder, banishing all other thoughts or considerations. She stood up on her toes, drawing her mouth close to his ear to shout, “Who’s going first?”
Nigel gulped. A nearly overwhelming temptation simply to turn his head and kiss her burned in his heart. Right there. Right then. With the added convenience that, having done so, he could promptly cast himself to his death over the brink when she inevitably pushed him away.
But no. He respected her.
He did, gods-damn it.
“I’ll go,” he said, placing his own lips near her ear this time.
Luna shook her head, stepping back a pace. A flush tinged her cheeks, probably from the heat and the exertion of the climb. Then she lifted her face to his again, speaking once more into his ear. “No, it’d better be me. If that water is deep, you might need me to save you.”
Nigel’s chest tightened. The feeling of her hand on his shoulder. The nearness of her mouth when he turned his head to look at her. He stared down into her eyes, blood roaring louder than the waterfall in his ears. His lips moved, almost against his will, and his head inclined ever-so slightly.
But she turned away. Sat down at the top of that nearly-hidden slide. Before Nigel could react or utter any word of protest, she pushed herself off, flung her arms up into the air. With a great “Whoop!” and rush of water, she vanished over the edge.
Heart racing, Nigel hastened to look down.
He watched her ride the slide from one waterfall tier to the next, splashing and laughing all the way.
A sense of inevitability came over him—like a vision of some not-so-distant future, when the currents of life would surely carry her away from him, and this time they shared together became little more than a memory.
She spilled out into the final pool with a shriek that carried all the way to the top. Scattering bubbles and foam, she whirled around, looked up at him where he stood, and waved both arms over her head, smiling hugely and beckoning.
“All right, Miss Talbot,” Nigel muttered. “I’m coming.” Swallowing back a knot of dread, he took his place at the top of the slide. Fear gnawed his insides, more potent than he liked to admit.
Then he whispered: “It could be glorious.”
With a push of both hands, he cast himself out into that flow, felt the current take him and carry him into the wild exhilaration of swift descent.