But it wasn’t drowning me.
Either I’d gotten stronger, or this river was kinder than the first.
A thick, bleached log ran toward me in the rapids, and I grabbed at it, wrapping my arms up and over the smooth, buoyant wood. It held my weight like a boat, of sorts. The next boulder removed skin from my shoulder, but I found myself grinning. I was on aboat, zipping away from the enemy and toward Harthon far faster than I ever could have on foot. No one followed along the riverbank, my speed too great for horses or dogs. They couldn’t catch me.
There, in the middle of a raging river, my legs aching and bones turning stiff, I laughed. Tears sprang to my eyes, hot against the cool water that soaked my face.
This river—this beautiful, life-giving river—had just made me free. Not just me, but everyone beneath Koerlyn’s sadistic thumb. The whole damnedworld,even.
So easily, so naturally, it was delivering me to Harthon. The man I would show into the Domus, the one who would destroy Koerlyn and everyone like him and make life worth…worthliving.For everyone. For Marsik and Merelda. For the villagers like me and the victims who came into his justice hearing.
He was the only one to do it. The only leader to make that change. And I wouldn’t wait any longer. It needed to be done now. The longer we waited, the more people suffered. The greater the chance thatKoerlyn, the monster that he was, could steal me and find Merelda and kill and maim just because he could. The more bodies that would pile in his wake. The more that Ellan would waste food gardens on flowers, starving his people.
I would bring Harthon into Centralis tomorrow. This river had just made it so. It had done its part. I would do mine.
There was a tugging in my chest that had nothing to do with the currents. It was that familiar feeling, urging me south.
You’re worthy of that knowledge and able to own it. Now try it.Harthon’s deep, assured voice rolled through my mind.
Before, when I’d tried on that hilltop, I’d simply sought out the mysterious, shapeless feeling, hoping to make it stronger. That wasn’towningit—that wasn’twantingit enough. Owning it was grasping the tangible thing by the horns and wrangling it until it was mine to use.
Own it. Own it. Own it.
A small whirlpool spun me in a circle before spitting me forward, the rapids intensifying, moving me faster.
Faster toward Harthon. Toward something like duty.
Own it.
Grasp it. Yank.
The tug in my chest was a rope. I gripped the end, gritted my teeth, andwrenched.It gave, and the rest of the rope came with it, coiling before me, pooling in my chest which was beginning to fill with warmth, pulling me closer and closer to whatever was at the end of it—
Bright light, a pleasant heat, burst before my eyes and infused my frigid body. Just like when the woman changed my eyes. The shapes that looked like fingers but were roots took form before me. Roots. Thick ones, the kind that anchored massive trees. A landmark, where the path into the Domus began. It had to be. I braced for pain, for that burning that would follow, but it didn’t come.
My eyes flew open on a gasp.
The first thing I became aware of was the lightness in my mind and the warmth in my chest.
The second was that I was in calm water. The riverbank was close on either side of me, the river far narrower now than before. Naked trees filed by at a slow pace, not a man in sight. I let go of the driftwood and twisted. I squinted my eyes, not quite believing them. Far behind me was a waterfall, mist lifting from the pool beneath it in white plumes. Although the drop seemed only as tall as a tree, it was still a terrifying force of nature.
I…I had to have gone over it. I stared at the drop in a daze.
The vision had only lasted for five seconds, at most. At least, it’d felt that way. How long had I been out? How could I have survived that drop with no awareness?
A shiver wracked my frame, pulling my attention to more immediate needs. The gentle heat in my chest apparently did nothing to warm my stiffening limbs. Paddling to the bank, I dragged myself from the water. And then I began to walk, steps quickly turning into stumbles as my trembling worsened and exhaustion pressed in.
I spotted them far in the distance at the same time they saw me. Men on horses, dressed in tan and brown leathers. Harthon’s men. Relief sent me to my knees as they quickly reached me. I didn’t recognize a single one of them, but from their wide eyes, they clearly knew who I was.
One of them dropped from his saddle, hurrying over. “Ladymagvis, are you injured?” He sliced the bindings away with a flick of a blade.
I shook my head, the ground spinning. Only a single need was keeping me upright. “Where’s Harthon?”
“He’s close by, at our camp, preparing to retrieve you. Are you injured?”
He’s close.
I lurched to my feet, swaying. “Give me a horse and lead me to him. Now.”
