“I know.”
I started pacing. “We have some other logs I didn’t use. If we pile some on top of what we already have—”
“The raft will sink.” He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “This is my fault. I should have come out here last night to see how it looked instead of waiting until this morning.”
“Well, what you should have done was not storm off yesterday.”
“I didn’tstorm off.”
“You did.”
He glared at me, but I just smiled back. After a moment, he shook his head. “You know, I can tell your smile isn’t genuine.”
“What else do you expect? I’m about to have a grand old time on your raft.”
“No, you’re not,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“We may not get along well—”
“You think?”
He narrowed his eyes. “If you would just let me finish.”
I motioned for him to continue, and then mimed buttoning my lips.
“We may not get along well,” he tried again, “but I’m not going to put you through that. I’ll forfeit my spot in the Games and try again next year.”
Panic clawed its way up my throat—funny I felt more alarmed by losing the chance at the island’s gift than getting drenched by lake water. “No!”
He frowned. “Daella, you will get wet.”
“Yes, but…” How could I phrase this? “I believe in your mission. You want to protect everyone from Isveig. So do I.” Just as long as they weren’t Draugr.
“There isn’t room for both of us on that raft,” he pointed out.
“Well.” I flushed. “I’m sure there’s a way to make it work.”
He propped his hands on his waist and stared at the ridiculous contraption I’d spent so many hours building. In the light of everything else, it looked a mess. The edges of the logs weren’t lined up, and the rope was frayed and far too thin for my liking. The last thing I wanted was to share the thing with Rivelin, but what else were we to do?
“You’ll have to sit on my lap,” he finally said.
* * *
Rivelin heaved the raft into his arms and carried it through the house and out onto the front steps, like the thing weighed no more than a feather. A moment later, he came back inside and rooted around in a trunk before handing me some leather oilcloth—it was waterproof, apparently, though I wasn’t convinced. The material was thick and far too warm for summer weather, but I’d rather be sweaty than shivering in pain.
After changing into the oilcloth, I stomped outside in waxed leather boots. Instantly, the morning sun baked me. Rivelin looked me up and down, then nodded in satisfaction. “You sure you don’t want something to cover your face?”
“As long as you don’t tip the thing sideways, it should be fine,” I snapped, scowling.
He chuckled.
“What?”
“It’s just nice to see your true nature come out.”
“And what true nature would that be?”
