“Comforting,” I mumbled.
The fairy bit his cheek, offering me a smile.
“Ifthat happens, would you be able to get me out?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Why?”
“Magic is forbidden on the training grounds. All I can do is veyrith us here and nothing more. And as you can see, my great muscles”—he stopped to flex them—“no matter how big, can’t drag you out.”
Though this was quite a hassle, I couldn’t back down. I assumed there would be aquatic trials, so I had to build up my swimming skills to a decent level before I could attempt them. Unless I was lucky enough for that to be the first trial.
It was fine. It would not be a problem. As long as I remained calm, the shifting terrain would eventually bring me to the surface.
Stay calm, I told myself as I undid my boots.
Stay calm, I thought when I unbuttoned my pants and let them fall on the ground before stepping out of them.
Stay calm, I repeated when I pulled my shirt over my head and placed the dagger between my clothing. I was glad I slid it into my pants before heading out.
Finally, I stood there in only my lingerie, the loose cups of the oversized bra creating an awkward space between my chest and the fabric. I grimaced. It was an unpleasant view, and my protruding ribs only made it worse.
“Don’t worry, you have the biggest ta-tas I’ve ever seen.”
I shot him a glare, remembering I wasn’t alone. Though he may have intended it as a compliment, it did not come across that way. The onlyta-tashe had ever seen were presumably those of a fairy, no bigger than my fingernails, so the compliment wasn’t exactly encouraging.
My nails bit into the skin of my palms as I watched the changing terrain, knowing that the unforgiving waves I had seen before would appear again. I shuddered as the pavement’s harshness yielded to a rocky path before dissolving into a muddy road.
I had to do this. My escape plan remained, but the possibility of failure loomed, and I had to be ready for the trials that awaited.
Like a chime from a tower bell, the water surfaced; perfectly timed. I took a deep breath, my limbs shaking. My nerves were jangling, but there was no time for a moment of hesitation.
Stretching one leg over the other, I dove through, the water closing around me. Despite the sun, my skin erupted in goose bumps at the contact with the icy water, a warning shiver coursing down my spine as I continued my descent.
I realized then that there was no bottom in this vicious ocean to propel me upwards like the lake in front of our shack. It was infinite.
Shit.
Below, the world morphed into shades of sapphire and emerald hues, while fractured fragments of sunlight were mirrored in the coins lying on the seabed. My lungs burned, a frantic drumming against my ribs.
Focus, Charisma. Stay calm and swim to the surface.
I ignored the sting in my eyes, pushing down on my feet as if I could feel the ground beneath them. It didn’t work. If anything, it only made me sink farther.
Use your arms. Your legs. Get to the surface.
The pressure, a tightening vise, squeezed the air from my chest. Panic clawed at the edges of my resolve. I flailed, arms windmilling uselessly in the liquid. Bubbles escaping my desperate gasps streamed upwards, mocking my plight.
Calm down. Calm. Down.
I stopped moving, closing my eyes for a second. Thinking. Assessing. Remembering. They snapped open the moment I recalled.
The frog swim. A memory flashed before my eyes. Six years ago, when I was in pursuit of new hobbies to offer me a distraction, I came across a children’s book entitledHow to Swim like a Frog. With it in hand, I practiced in the lake, following its instructions to the letter: pushing my palms and legs against the water to keep afloat. After many failed attempts and agonizing setbacks, it became clear that it was a losing battle, so I asked my neighbor, Maggie—who always swam with a fluidity I was envious of—to help me.
She didn’t want to be seen with me—not that her house was in better condition than ours—but the information she offered me was a start. The lesson in the book was inaccurate. I wasn’t supposed to push. I was supposed to move my limbs in circles.
I abandoned the idea after a while, hence why I wasn’t good at swimming to this day, but it was worth trying now.
