I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to resuscitate a minotaur, but I have to try. I place my hands under her neck, which is thick with muscle, so tilting her head back to open her airway takes effort. I place my mouth over hers and give her several strong rescue breaths.
“Come on,” I whisper.
Nothing.
I press my hands firmly to her chest and start compressions. Over and over again, I push with all my might, but I’m not sure it’s enough, considering her size.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Algar asks.
I ignore him and give her a few more breaths, then place my hands over her sternum and pump again.
“Come on, Rynthea,” I rasp, my vision blurring with tears. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d listened to her and if I’d stayed on the middle path. If I’d used my head instead of my heart, she would be fine.
My arms tremble from the strain and exhaustion. Maybe I’m not strong enough. I’m just about to ask Algar to try compressions when she twitches. Then her chest expands and her eyes pop open.
Oh, thank Orvena.
I turn her head to the side, and water spills from her mouth. “Algar, help me,” I say, trying to roll her over. Algar joins, and we manage to get her onto her side. He shifts back just as she coughs and sputters, gagging up swamp water, chunks of weeds, and who knows what else.
“Orvena’s sake, Rynthea,” he mutters, staring at the mess she’s created.
I laugh with relief as I help her sit up. “Are you okay?”
After a few deep breaths and another bout of coughing, her eyes turn to mine, burning wild with confusion. “Did you just save me?”
I smile. “I did.”
“Where did you learn?”
“I was born in Ember Coast so…” I shrug. “Sort of mandatory to know this kind of thing when you live near the sea.”
Rynthea just stares at me. The longer she does, it feels like she’s seeing me as an entirely different person. Like I’m not just some simple, useless mortal. Before I know it, she’s locked her massive arms around me to collect me in a hug.
I giggle as her damp vest and hair press to my cheek.
“Thank you, Zaira.”
“You’re welcome. But I wouldn’t have been able to resuscitate you at all if Thane hadn’t brought you to shore.”
When I gesture to Thane, Rynthea peers over to where he’s still sitting with his legs spread wide and knuckles planted into the ground. He blinks with damp, feathery lashes.
“Thanks to you, too, I guess.” Rynthea stands up slowly.
“You guess?” He grunts as he hoists himself up,too.
She takes a beat. “I guessI appreciate you saving my life.” It looks like she wants to say more but thinks better of it, and Thane knows it. “I just mean…thanks for…helping me out and everything.” Her words are strained. Does she really not trust sorcerers that much? I can’t help thinking something must’ve happened in her past for her to feel so strongly against them.
Rynthea steps back, searching for something. Her scythesword is floating near one of the swamp edges. When she snatches it up, she inspects the blade. “We need to get back to the middle path. That swamp monster was only a sample of what lurks in Delchester.”
She gives Thane a sideways glance before walking past him.
Thane motions his hands toward the water to call his swords. They fly out rapidly, the hilts slamming into his palms before he tucks them away in a seamless motion.
Algar meets up to Thane. “She’ll learn to trust you. You just have to give her time.”
“Was saving her life not enough?” Thane’s question is genuine.
Algar offers a helpless shrug before following Rynthea.
