Chapter 19 #2
Thane and Rynthea don’t relent.
They manage to reach the monster’s shoulders as it throws up all of its remaining tentacles in an attempt to stop them.
The two of them bob and weave, look at each other, nod, and then jump off either side, but not without piercing their blades into the creature’s neck.
With their descent, the blades drag downward and slide right across the monster’s throat. Two cuts interconnected.
Thane and Rynthea plunge into the gooey water as the cries of the monster cease. The large head topples off and drops into the swamp, causing an even greater splash. The ground quakes when the body of the monster descends backward and slams down.
It’s gone…and so are Thane and Rynthea.
The atmosphere quiets. Water gurgles. My pulse thunders in my ears.
I step around the boulder, waiting with bated breath for them to resurface.
Algar joins me at my side, and our faces seem riddled with the same anxiety. I fear they might be dead. The seconds feel like hours as the swamp water conjures up slow, slimy bubbles.
And then a sharp, loud gasp breaks through the air.
Thane has emerged, and right next to him is a massive gold bubble floating on the surface of the water.
Rynthea is inside that bubble, and Thane grunts as he holds one hand out to keep her steady while swimming with his other arm to reach the nearest edge.
Algar and I rush over to assist. When Algar offers him a hand, Thane grips it tightly and is hauled out of the water.
As soon as he’s on land, Thane collapses, sucking in deep, rapid breaths.
Rynthea is still in the gold bubble, floating on the surface, but the light is fading.
Raising a weak hand, Thane grunts as he guides the bubble out of the water.
Then his arm falls, the bubble dissolves, and Rynthea drops like a stone on the ground.
“Rynthea?” Algar hurries to her side, giving her a shake. “Are you all right?”
She doesn’t budge.
“The monster’s head landed on her.” Thane flips onto his back with his eyes shut. After a second or two, he sits up. Though he’s weak, he seems fine. He isn’t the one who needs me right now.
I rush to Rynthea’s side.
“Hey. Rynthea. Can you hear me?” When I get no response, I hover my ear above her nose. “She’s not breathing.”
I study her face. Her lips are tinged blue. I press my ears to her chest and listen for a heartbeat. It’s barely there, but there, nonetheless. I sit back on my heels and sigh with relief, glad she’s not dead. Yet.
I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to resuscitate a minotaur, but I have to try. I place my hands under her neck, which is thick with muscle, so tilting her head back to open her airway takes effort. I place my mouth over hers and give her several strong rescue breaths.
“Come on,” I whisper.
Nothing.
I press my hands firmly to her chest and start compressions. Over and over again, I push with all my might, but I’m not sure it’s enough, considering her size.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Algar asks.
I ignore him and give her a few more breaths, then place my hands over her sternum and pump again.
“Come on, Rynthea,” I rasp, my vision blurring with tears. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d listened to her and if I’d stayed on the middle path. If I’d used my head instead of my heart, she would be fine.
My arms tremble from the strain and exhaustion. Maybe I’m not strong enough. I’m just about to ask Algar to try compressions when she twitches. Then her chest expands and her eyes pop open.
Oh, thank Orvena.
I turn her head to the side, and water spills from her mouth. “Algar, help me,” I say, trying to roll her over. Algar joins, and we manage to get her onto her side. He shifts back just as she coughs and sputters, gagging up swamp water, chunks of weeds, and who knows what else.
“Orvena’s sake, Rynthea,” he mutters, staring at the mess she’s created.
I laugh with relief as I help her sit up. “Are you okay?”
After a few deep breaths and another bout of coughing, her eyes turn to mine, burning wild with confusion. “Did you just save me?”
I smile. “I did.”
“Where did you learn?”
“I was born in Ember Coast so…” I shrug. “Sort of mandatory to know this kind of thing when you live near the sea.”
Rynthea just stares at me. The longer she does, it feels like she’s seeing me as an entirely different person. Like I’m not just some simple, useless mortal. Before I know it, she’s locked her massive arms around me to collect me in a hug.
I giggle as her damp vest and hair press to my cheek.
“Thank you, Zaira.”
“You’re welcome. But I wouldn’t have been able to resuscitate you at all if Thane hadn’t brought you to shore.”
When I gesture to Thane, Rynthea peers over to where he’s still sitting with his legs spread wide and knuckles planted into the ground. He blinks with damp, feathery lashes.
“Thanks to you, too, I guess.” Rynthea stands up slowly.
“You guess?” He grunts as he hoists himself up, too.
She takes a beat. “I guess I appreciate you saving my life.” It looks like she wants to say more but thinks better of it, and Thane knows it.
“I just mean…thanks for…helping me out and everything.” Her words are strained.
Does she really not trust sorcerers that much?
I can’t help thinking something must’ve happened in her past for her to feel so strongly against them.
Rynthea steps back, searching for something. Her scythesword is floating near one of the swamp edges. When she snatches it up, she inspects the blade. “We need to get back to the middle path. That swamp monster was only a sample of what lurks in Delchester.”
She gives Thane a sideways glance before walking past him.
Thane motions his hands toward the water to call his swords. They fly out rapidly, the hilts slamming into his palms before he tucks them away in a seamless motion.
Algar meets up to Thane. “She’ll learn to trust you. You just have to give her time.”
“Was saving her life not enough?” Thane’s question is genuine.
Algar offers a helpless shrug before following Rynthea.
When they’re out of earshot, Thane tilts his face to the sky, takes a large inhale, and exhales.
“You saved her. She won’t forget that.” I step closer to him, watching as he rakes his fingers through his soaked hair. “I didn’t think either of you would— I mean…” I sigh. “I’m just glad you made it out alive.”
“Yeah.” His gaze shifts to me. “Smart call on the gills.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing I love reading about beastial anatomy.”
Thane quirks a brow.
I cough up an awkward laugh, realizing that sounded cheesier than I expected.
He narrows his eyes at me. I can feel the heat of his body as those bold irises focus on my lips. When his fingers clasp my chin, I hold my breath, focusing on his lips, too.
My mouth tingles, anticipating something I’m not sure I need but know I want. My body is craving his touch. Why?
When his lips are only a hair’s breadth away, he says, “You disregarded rule number one.”
I blink, confused. “What?”
“‘Keep your kind gestures to yourself because they’ll only get you killed,’” he reiterates.
Oh.
“You have to stop trying to help people, Quinlocke. You do realize that if you’d stayed on the main path, none of this ever would’ve happened, right?”
Ah. So we’re back on a condescending last-name basis. Gods, he’s so confusing. Frustrated, I try to pull my face out of his hands, but he won’t let go.
His eyes spark with gold, burning with a hint of frustration, too. “You could’ve died,” he rasps. “All of us could’ve died for someone you thought you could save. Even if he had been real, how were you going to help him? How, when you can’t even save yourself?”
We stare at each other, me fighting the urge to cry again, and him seeming more disappointed by the second.
Finally, he lets his hand drop away, and my stomach sinks. His clear disappointment bothers me more than it should. Why do I care what he thinks of me? He has no right to judge.
He looks me over from head to toe while shaking his head.
“Sometimes it’s hard to remember that…” He pauses.
“That you’re this sheltered woman who doesn’t understand the true dangers of this world.
Algar and Rynthea? They know what it’s like to be threatened—to try and help someone, only to be fucked over.
But you… Fuck. You wear your heart on your sleeve, Quinlocke, and that’ll get you killed one day.
You may think your bravery will save you, but it won’t. This I know for a fact.”
“How would you know anything about bravery?” I retort as heat rises to my cheeks.
“You live your life as an arrogant assassin.” I whisper-hiss the last word, not wanting it to carry to Rynthea and Algar.
“All you care about is killing, shutting people out, and making others feel inferior to you. You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to care about others because all you care about is yourself, Thane. ”
His mouth opens, as if he’s about to say something in defense, but just as quickly, it snaps shut and he steps back. Jaw clenched, he closes his eyes and inhales. After exhaling, he peels his eyes open and settles them on me again.
“I don’t have to explain who I am to you,” he responds in a lower voice.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost sounds hurt.
“You didn’t pay me to be your friend. You paid me to keep you alive.
” He shoves a dagger into one of the sheaths in his vest. “What does it matter? There’s no point in arguing with a naive woman. ”
My eyebrows incline. “Naive?”
“Yes, naive.”
“I’m not as naive as you think,” I counter as he turns his back to me.
“Whatever. Let’s just go.”
I steel myself as he treks forward and start to say something else just to have the last word, but he stops and says, “For once, listen to me, and return to the middle path.”
He stands sideways, pointing in the direction Rynthea and Algar have gone, jaw flexed, nostrils flaring. With a grimace, I storm past him, but not without purposely bumping into his arm. He doesn’t budge, but he does release an irritated huff.
The worst part about that conversation with Thane is that he’s right.
Had I just left the situation alone, had I just kept walking, Thane never would’ve been snatched away by that monster.
Rynthea wouldn’t have almost drowned. I risked all of our lives because my soft, empathetic heart couldn’t handle leaving a stranger behind. A stranger who was never even there.
Thane’s words sting, only because I can’t help the way that I am. But if I don’t toughen up, my empathy will certainly be the death of me…of all of us.