23. Chapter 23 #2
A deafening roar shattered the forest air as an impossible volume of water surged over the peak of the falls, crashing to the riverbed behind them.
The sound reverberated through Vaelin’s chest as his pulse hammered in his head.
They ran, the sound of Isla’s panting stinging his ears.
She was too fatigued from their sparring session.
Too human. His fingers curled into fists.
They needed to get to higher ground, above the certain death that nipped at their heels. Already, he could hear branches snapping behind them, trees groaning as their roots were wrenched from the earth by the sheer force of the current.
Have you ever seen someone torn apart by magic? He had asked her what felt like a lifetime ago. Water, forcing itself down their throat, drowning them in seconds?
He growled aloud, willing the image from his head.
The water surged behind them, the sound of rushing water drowning out the groans of the trees. Isla tripped over an exposed root, and he caught her by the arm, pushing her on. His feet were wet.
No.
A heartbeat later, they were swept off their feet as though they were weightless, a shock of cold water rushing over their heads.
He twisted, reaching for purchase on something, anything he could grip.
The competing currents warred with one another, tossing him back and forth like a doll beneath the water.
Suddenly his breath crashed out of him, his chest having made contact with something large and solid.
He grunted, reaching up, boots sliding on the slick surface as he struggled for a foothold to use to push his head above water.
The current beat at his back, pressing him against what he realized was a boulder.
At last, he crested the water, lungs filling with air.
He whipped his head around wildly, spotting Isla a few feet ahead.
Urgency pierced his chest. She clutched a too-slick rock, her fingernails begging for purchase on the smooth surface.
The leather strap of her satchel pulled at her shoulder as the current attempted to sweep it away, the heavy sword at her back weighing her down.
She gasped for air as another wave crashed over her head, submerging her briefly.
He roared, peeling himself from the boulder and lunging sideways to the next, inching closer, his muscles screaming.
A jagged edge sliced open his hand and he hissed, but kept his eyes glued to Isla’s white-knuckled grip.
She was slipping. With a grunt of effort, he hurled a powerful gust of wind toward her.
The force of it surprised even him, blowing the wet tendrils of hair from her face and parting the current of water so that it flowed around her, instead of over her.
He heard her gasp for air in relief, as she scrambled for purchase, renewing her perilous grip on the rock.
The edges of his vision darkened — he could do little more, his magic already pushed to its limit, straining against the surging current.
He tore his eyes from hers, rapidly scanning their surroundings.
The boulder he clutched was one of several that leaned against one another, with a narrow, north-facing gap in the centre.
He breathed hard, muscles trembling with the effort of physically withstanding the pull of the current and forcing his magic to push against the waves.
His gut roiled with nausea and he forced it down.
Gritting his teeth, he reached an arm out to Isla.
“Grab my hand!” He bellowed over the roar of the water.
She shook her head, attempting to adjust her tenuous grip. “It’s okay,” she shouted, “It won’t last long!”
Another crack sounded in the distance and Vaelin’s stomach dropped sharply.
“Do it now!” He snarled furiously.
For a moment he thought she would deny him again, and then her hand was in his and he was wrenching her through the water, wrapping an arm around her waist as he used the last of his strength to hurl them into the narrow space between boulders, first Isla, then himself.
He pressed the whole of his body against hers, squeezing them into the too-small space and she fisted his tunic, as if she might hold him there, stop him from being swept away.
He nearly laughed. Hastily, he recalled his wind, throwing up a shield at his back to protect their precarious shelter, raising a forearm above them to shield them from debris.
Water crashed over and around the boulders and Vaelin paled at the deafening crack that sounded as a massive bough smashed into the side of the boulder where he had clung only moments before.
There was barely enough room for the two of them.
He looked down at Isla. She trembled with a combination of cold and terror, still clutching at the front of his tunic, her knuckles pale.
Her gaze was locked on his face, eyes wide with fear.
He was sure he was crushing her, but it was him or the current.
They panted, drenched clothes clinging to their skin, hair dripping.
Vaelin’s breath coasted across her forehead, his pulse racing with adrenaline as the current screamed around them.
He shut his eyes against the deafening echo of the waves that crashed over their fragile shelter and beat at the shield of wind at his back, growling his refusal to die.
He felt her nails dig into his shoulder as a tree bough crashed against his shield, penetrating it enough to clip his shoulder.
He grunted at the pain, and pressed his body more firmly into Isla’s.
It was over as soon as it had begun, the roaring gradually waning into a muffled rumbling, and then finally collapsing into whispered silence.
They stayed in the shelter of the crevasse, both shaking as their breathing slowed, their chests rising to meet each other with each inhale.
The sound of their intermingling breath was heavy and ragged, cutting through the silence.
With a shudder of effort, Vaelin dismissed his shield of wind as though relaxing a muscle, forcing the tension out of his body.
Slowly, he raised his head, scanning their surroundings before lowering his eyes back to Isla’s, the striking green of them suddenly running him through like a blade.
Her trembling had ceased, though she must be as cold as he was.
She shook her head in stunned disbelief, lips slightly parted.
Her hands were still fisted in his tunic.
He shook his head slowly, a low, incredulous murmur escaping his lips, inches from hers.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”