They slowly worked their way deeper into the canyon. In the center of the river, the water swirled in angry white dips and churning pools. Near the opposite bank, rocks lined the shore, some large enough to stick out above the surface, and others barely concealed by the rushing water.
It only confirmed his hunch that they had taken the best path through the rapids. The far end of the canyon was growing closer and closer. Just a few more minutes, and they’d be through the most dangerous section of the Iskut. The rest of the trip back to Sitka would be easy compared to what they’d already faced.
“Rock!” Bryony’s shout echoed through the canyon.
He peered down the river to see what she was talking about, but the other canoe blocked his view.
Heath started nosing the canoe farther out into the river.
Mikhail didn’t like it, but if there was a rock near the shore, they had no choice.
Once Heath and Bryony moved, he could glimpse the rock for himself. It barely pierced the surface, but the white ridges of water flowing around indicated something large lay beneath.
Thankfully Bryony spotted it. Most people probably would have assumed there was a natural ripple in the water, not danger.
He angled his own canoe to move around it. Though Heath and Bryony were controlling their canoe, it was closer to the center of the river than he’d like, given the current, the weight of the canoe, and how low it sat in the water.
“Come back closer to the...” His words were too late. A wave grabbed the canoe, sending it careening toward a boulder in the middle of the river.
“Paddle backward!” he shouted above the roar of the rapids. “Get control! Don’t let it angle sideways.”
“The current is too strong,” Bryony yelled as the canoe slowly started to drift sideways. “We can’t?—”
A wave surged against the side of the canoe. It happened so fast that there was nothing either Heath or Bryony could do to prevent the canoe from hitting the boulder. The impact didn’t appear to put a hole in the hull, but it sent the canoe spinning violently, the broadside now exposed to the full force of the rapids.
Mikhail gripped his own paddle, his heart hammered against his chest as he sat watching, helpless to do anything other than shout commands.
“Let the water spin your canoe fully around, and then dig your paddles in.”
“You need to straighten out. Get the nose pointed back downstream.”
“Quickly! Before you hit another rock.”
He spoke as fast as he could, his voice growing hoarse as he strained to be heard above the roaring water.
For a fraction of a second, Heath and Bryony almost had it. They nearly got the canoe pointed back toward the right shore and started paddling, but then a wave crashed into the front, soaking Bryony and sending the tip of the canoe spiraling into a large dip in the water.
“No! Look out!” Mikhail called again, sweat beading on his forehead and palms despite the frigid air. But there was still nothing he could do but watch as the tip of the canoe dipped down at the same moment another wave crashed into the front of it, soaking Bryony for a second time.
Except when the wave washed away, the place Bryony had occupied was empty.
He was out of the canoe in a heartbeat, barely taking time to wrench off his thick fur coat and boots before diving into the river.
The frigid water covered him, shocking every nerve in his body. He gasped, giving himself a moment to adjust to the freezing temperature as every muscle temporarily grew still. But he pushed through it, swimming into the current, straight toward the place where Bryony had disappeared.
Heath had taken control of the canoe and was paddling back toward the eastern shore. Dr. Ottingford was paddling as well, and Dr. Wetherby had wedged the other canoe between two rocks, where it appeared stuck but wasn’t in danger of wrecking or capsizing.
But that didn’t tell him where Bryony was.
He straightened, surging out of the water as far as he could, looking for a flash of red hair or a fur parka, for anything that might indicate where the river had carried her.
When he came back down, sinking into the water again, his foot grazed the bottom. The patch of river wasn’t deep. Most stretches of rivers that contained rapids weren’t.
But a person could drown in shallow water just as easily as they could in deep.
Dear God, please don’t let her die. Please help me find her. Please...
“Over there,” Heath shouted, pointing toward the center of the river. “She’s over there!”
