Chapter 22 #2
“Ish needs to deliver another message,” I said as soon as Ilesekh assured Ekkire he’d have supplies and rushed off to get them.
It would not surprise me if he took them from his own bag, and I vowed to check that it wasn’t going to cost small Mess a meal.
We could hunt along the way if needed, or go hungry for a day or two.
With a nod, Ekkire and I went back to find the apprentice, drawing him away from the festivities the same way Ilesekh had taken us aside earlier.
The news of a potential bomb rattled the bright-scaled male so much he fumbled as he located the ancient communication device.
It nearly dropped between some awkwardly stacked rocks at my feet, but was rescued by a whip-fast flick of Ekkire’s tail.
“Calm yourself, Ish. We can only do what we can. Call Keir, then call anyone you can reach.”
Ishmakah began with his teacher, as was no doubt expected of him, reaching out to the Shaman Keir for the second time in short order.
If he’d seemed surly before, he was downright furious to answer this time.
At Ish’s news, he shrugged and said, “So? That is not our problem. Leave it be, Ishmakah. You must focus on your duties, the naga entrusted to your care.” He disconnected the call after that and left us in stunned silence. Ish most stunned of all.
Then he turned iridescent yellow eyes on me and Ekkire, a fire lit inside them that was all fury.
Very much anathema to the soft, cheerful, caring side I’d seen of him so far.
“I do not agree,” he snarled. “Trust me, Ekkire, Jasmine. I believe all those on this world are in my care, not just naga, not just those of Sun Fang. I will call my former teachers, though I believe they are out of range at the North Pole right now. Then I will call every student I was with at the Sacred Training Grounds. I will get the message out.”
It was all a chaotic rush after that. Various naga came to help us gather the supplies we needed to travel quickly.
Only Ilesekh had known about this potential bomb, but word traveled fast. Scrai, who’d made me my new bow, donated a second quiver full of arrows and elicited a promise from Ekkire that we’d be back for another archery competition in better times.
Misha and Srayhi traded out our furs for better, newer ones, and Ilesekh topped up our food supply.
“Ask him if his son won’t go hungry to feed us; I won’t allow that,” I said to Ekkire as he was putting the food into his watertight backpack.
Ekkire’s eyes flashed green as he repeated what I’d said, and then, much to my unease, Ilesekh dropped into a bow at my feet.
He was babbling some apology for not seeing the goodness in my heart right away, but it was no assurance.
I was just being decent, damn it; this wasn’t exactly a high bar.
“Yes,” Ekkire said anyway. “Mess will be well-fed; you need not worry, my little hunter.” I realized immediately that Ekkire had repeated my words with such satisfaction because he knew how they’d be received. Yet he’d also known the answer all along. Sneaky man.
Then we were setting out in the dark. A pair of sleepy, completely knackered sleara were tucked into the front of my coat.
I’d been given my own backpack with a set of supplies as well, and a waterproof pouch with extra strings for my bow.
Gifts to thank us, to help us on this urgent mission, but only small things they could spare, given the ruins of their outpost. Some warriors had expressed their regret that they could not come with us, and Ekkire had firmly assured them this was enough. They were needed here.
The journey back began in the dark, on little sleep, and I recalled the bad sleet and rubble-covered pass we’d traversed to get here.
We’d camped and waited for daylight to do it, because it would be too dangerous otherwise.
A descent could be even riskier; we’d need to carefully control our speed.
I was already worrying about it, my brain rapidly flicking through options to make it safer.
When we reached the top of the pass, Ekkire kept going, however, not turning into it but heading straight across.
“There’s a stream deep enough to swim not far.
It has a slight drop, but otherwise continues safely down and heads almost entirely in the right direction.
” My mind filled with the dark, churning mud and water that had swept me through the gully formed by the earthquake.
My mouth went dry with fear, my gut roiling.
Oh no, water? That was his solution? He wanted us to let the current sweep us down the mountain?
If we had a canoe I might be game, even a raft perhaps, but a swim?
No vessels, improvised or otherwise, were waiting for us when we reached the stream.
Ekkire was quiet and efficient as he adjusted his backpack and checked that his weapons and pouches were all secure.
I thought I was masking it as I did the same with my things, even unstringing the new bow and putting the string in the new watertight pouch I’d been given.
They must have known we were going this way, that’s what the gift was about… Why did it have to be water?
“You will be safe, even if you can’t swim, little hunter.
” Ekkire curled his tail around me and drew me closer, tucking me against his chest and hugging me gently so as not to squash the sleeping pair of sleara.
“I am a Water Weaver male; we are born to swim. I have traveled this way many times before. It will bring us down the mountain in hours rather than days.” Oh yeah, rationally, I knew perfectly well that the water was a very fast way to travel.
The stream was wide and deep, with a fast-rushing current.
Even after the earthquake, I saw no obvious rocks or obstacles in the water, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any downstream or hidden beneath the surface.
My body ached, remembering the cold, and the bruises and aches from my last encounter with water.
Everything in me rebelled against the thought of going in.
“I can swim,” I spat out, angry with myself for not being stronger than this.
I was good at anything outdoors, even water, damn it!
This stupid panic wasn’t about to get the better of me, was it?
Not when the lives of thousands could depend on it, including Corin and Joxra, who were surely still at the crashed ship.
“I’ve done rafting, canoeing, stand-up paddleboarding.
Heck, you name it, I’ve probably done it…
This is a stream of nothing,” I pointed out, more to myself than to him.
He let me talk, muttering furiously into his chest, his big hand stroking along my spine through the thick fur of my coat.
I eyed the water again and estimated it would be cold enough to sap my strength to swim within fifteen minutes, and cause severe hypothermia in less than two hours.
Even as a capable swimmer, there was no way I’d make it.
I opened my mouth to say that, but Ekkire hushed me with the softest, sweetest of brushes against my lips.
“Hush, it will be fine. I will keep you warm, afloat, and safe. The water is cold, yes, but my body will heat yours, and I am well adapted to these circumstances.” I looked into his eyes, certain he had to be mad to trust the water that way.
Certain, too, that he did not understand the risk of hypothermia under such conditions, and how fragile a human truly was.
I’d fought tooth and nail to be seen as tough; was this the one time I had to admit weakness?
I opened my mouth but again, Ekkire beat me to it.
“No, no anger, no fear. I know why you are scared, but this is not like the gully, and the water will get warmer as we travel down. You are going to be fine. Trust me.” It was those last two words that convinced me.
I would not say the fear vanished, or even that the panic went away, but I did trust him.
He was a Water Weaver, so water was literally in his name.
“I’ve got you, Jasmine. You are my heart. ”
It was with those words ringing in my ears that I let him carry me into the water, where, like he’d promised, he kept me warm and mostly dry.
We went headfirst down the mountain, racing faster and faster.
Though it was closest to riding a raft, there was nothing I could compare to lying across his chest, face up, for hours—the water only touching my legs and feet most of the time, and his heat steadily keeping me warm.
Our weapons, my bow included, stayed dry on top of us, and the sleara were barely even disturbed from their nap.
It was in those long, dark hours, surrounded by the rushing water, that I found the will to talk. To share the parts of my past I knew he deserved to know, especially if we were racing into the arms of danger yet again.