“Can I leave my light on?”
He looked down at the slip of a girl. She wiped under her nose.
“I think that would be okay. Just until the water.”
Their footsteps thumped against wood as they followed the tunnel. In the light, he could confirm it was a hollow log. Strange insects fed on the wood inside. It was they, he realized, that had hollowed it out, not some lost soul fighting for its freedom. He wasn’t sure how that made him feel. Was it better to know that some force in the universe had provided the tunnel through luck or providence? Or that another soul or souls, through sacrifice and hard work, had made the escape route?
Maybe it didn’t matter. There was only so much credit a higher life-form could take for their existence and survival. He was thankful for the tunnel, no matter who or what was responsible.
“I see the water, Uncle Marius. It looks cold.” Charlie’s voice was laced with worry.
“It is cold.”
“Can we fly over?”
“Too dangerous. The vines that hang over the top are deadly, and the fireballs could knock us out of the sky anyway.” One splashed down in the lake outside the tunnel and sent up a pillar of steam. “It’s best to wade through the water. Trust me on this one.” He glanced down at her.
She was making that face again, the one that tore him up inside. Helpless. Dependent on him. He was a terrible hero.
He exited the tunnel and eyed the crisscrossing vines above the water. His hand drifted to the sword at his hip, his only remaining weapon. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’ll stand on my shoulders. You won’t even get wet.”
“But won’t you be cold?”
He would be. A deep aching cold that even his dragon flesh was not immune to. “I have my armor.”
That seemed to appease her, because she held up her hands to him with total trust in her eyes. With his help, she climbed up his back and squatted on his shoulders. Careful to keep her under the vines, he sank into the dark, murky water. Instantly, ice filled his veins and his teeth chattered. He began the slow trudge forward.
He was halfway across when his eyes started to close. It would be so easy to fall asleep here. The needles poking into his skin would stop. He’d grow warm again. He knew because he’d died here before. He’d sleep and wake up in the cave, ready to face another day.
“Don’t stop, Uncle. We’re almost there.” Charlie grabbed his ears and pinched.
He startled awake. They were not almost there. In fact, the opposite bank seemed like it was getting farther away. Cold. So cold. But if he just closed his eyes…
“Jump, Charlie. Soar to the opposite bank, low to the water. You can make it if you don’t flap your wings. The labyrinth is at the end of the path. The temple at the center will take you home.”
She pinched his ears harder. “You have to show me, Uncle,” she cried.
He took another step. No farther. He wasn’t going to make it. “You can do it by yourself. Use your zappy fingers.”
“Keep going! We’re almost there!” she screamed.
“Do as I say, kid.” His lids drooped, and the words came out slurred. With his last scrap of strength, he reached up, grabbed her hips, and tossed her toward the shore. Her wings caught the air, and she landed gently on the opposite bank. He hated the look in her eyes when he gave up. Disappointed. Horrified. Mercifully, he didn’t have to suffer her expression for long. He sank into the water, his eyes closing. He waited for death.
Strange—his body seemed to be rising rather than sinking. He cracked his lids as he rose out of the water, facedown and dripping over the surface. He glanced toward Charlie. She was glowing again, her hands outstretched, sweat beading on her contorted face. As soon as his head was over the dirt, he dropped like a rock, legs still dangling in the water. She was on him immediately, digging her fingers into his collar and pulling with all her might.
“Get up! Get up now, Uncle! You’re being bad.” She yanked hard and then slapped him in the side of the head.
“Ow.”
“Now!” she screeched, and Marius could not help but to hear her mother’s voice in her mouth. He army-crawled forward, pulling one leg, then the other, from the icy water. He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the trees that sheltered the path.
“Charlie,” he said, mostly so that she wouldn’t slap him again while he regained his strength. “Did you levitate me out of the water?”
She squatted down beside him. “I had to. You fell asleep.”
“When did you learn to do that?”
“A few days ago.” She frowned. “I don’t think I could do it if you were in your body. You’d be too heavy.”
