Greer spanned the gap between the second and third with a precariously wide step.
Now in the middle of the river, she took a moment to admire its winding length. Murky water raced by, sending little waves sloshing up as if to grab at her.
She frowned as she caught sight of movement downstream. A long, serpentine shadow approached, fighting against the current. It was massive, longer than the carts used at the mill to haul trees, and nearly wider than the timber itself.
As if sensing Greer, it slowly ascended from the water’s depths, showing off a muscular back, mottled blue and gray, the color of a stormy sky. Rows of lethally barbed scutes lined its body, giving the giant sturgeon an otherworldly, mythical air. This was a dragon come to life, truly an ancient creature of legend and horror.
She froze, watching its formidable body glide past her with undulating grace. Despite the season, when most of his brethren would be found in the warmer waters off the coast, this sturgeon was headed upriver, for purposes unknown. Greer could only stare after it in slack-jawed wonder before it submerged with a seductive swish of its tail.
She kept her gaze fixed on the swirling water but did not see the sturgeon again. Unease spread within her, like a stain of wine traveling across a pristine tablecloth. The span to the fourth rock was the widest she’d need to cross, and Greer eyed the rushing water warily. If she fell short, she’d be swept away and that would be it, there’d be nothing left of this journey. There’d be nothing left of her.
Greer played with the straps of her bag, wondering if she could throw it all the way to the riverbank, which would allow her to jump with less weight and more control. The shore looked too far, but she thought she could at least get the bag to the next boulder. It was large, with a mostly level top.
“It’s not that hard,” she muttered, coaching herself. “Just take off the bag and toss it.”
She double-checked that the map and compass were inside Finn’s coat pocket before letting the rucksack slide from her back. She tested its heft, swinging it back and forth as she estimated how much strength she’d need to get it onto its mark.
With a grunt of effort, Greer hefted the bag across the gap.
As it sailed through the air, she held her breath, watching and waiting to see where it would land. Her heart caught as she noticed the lantern dangling from the canvas loop. The glass sparkled in the sunlight, looking achingly lovely before it struck the rock and shattered. A burst of broken shards sprayed across the ledge.
She swallowed hard, trying to push down the warnings firing through her bloodstream, screaming that this was a bad idea, a very bad idea, maybe the worst one she’d ever had, and—
She leapt.
In her haste, Greer overestimated the jump and fell onto the shards of glass. Though her boots protected her from the wicked edges, she landed clumsily, her foot slipping and catching on the rucksack. In a tangled mess, both it and Greer went sliding off the boulder, plummeting into the waters below.
The current hit her with all the force of a battering ram, and it took Greer a stunned moment of agonized disbelief to understand why she hadn’t been swept away.
A fallen tree was jammed between the last two rocks, and her pack’s strap had snagged on one of the branches. Greer clung to the bag with all her might. Her arms trembled as she fought to stay above the water’s surface. She sputtered for breath, kicking hard against the roaring rapids, trying to pull herself onto the log. It was slick with lichens and a slimy skin of autumn leaves, and no matter what Greer did, she could not find purchase.
The water was bitterly cold, squeezing her chest with such ferocity that even when she could kick above the surface, she couldn’t find a way to draw air into her lungs. The pulsing, pounding slosh of the waves never stopped. There were always more, hitting her in the face, filling her ears. They flipped Greer from side to side, and her stomach heaved from the relentless motion.
Instinctually, she called out for help, using what breath she could to scream. If she was going to drown in these watery depths, she wanted to meet her end fighting. The current rippled, pulling her under, and she swallowed an enormous mouthful of river water. She choked, gagging on the brackish cold, only for more water to rush in through her nose, burning her sinuses.
Greer thrashed and, for a horrifying moment, she couldn’t tell which way was up. The world was nothing but a verdigris haze. She tried one direction, then the next, smashing her head against one of the boulders. Dark stars filled her vision, and she was certain this was the end.
But the current slacked, and she bobbed to the surface, gasping for air.
A disconcerting warmth began to spread down her arms. Its phantom shimmers started in her fingers, so white and bloodless they were beginning to turn blue. It spread down her arms, surrounding her elbows with the unpleasant sensation of a sleeping limb beginning to wake. Pins and needles prodded at her, making their way to her shoulders and spreading across her core.
The cold,she thought with alarm.It’s so cold I’m beginning to feel hot. Too hot. Too cold,she corrected.It’s too, too cold.
Along with the prickles and the paradoxical heat came a terrible sleepy sensation.
Greer fought to keep her eyes opened and focused.
Too cold, too cold, too cold…
Her body felt deliciously heavy, as if she were covered in a pile of quilts and goose-down blankets.
What if I just let go?
It would be so terribly easy.
Just a release of her fingers, just a final glimpse of the sky.
She pictured her body floating downstream, tossed about like driftwood, and it looked so peaceful, so dreamy. For a moment, she flexed her fingers, wondering if she had the strength simply to surrender.
