Locke grumbles under his breath and starts stomping through the forest again. My lips stay curled in a smile as I follow, my chest throbbing with amusement.
We move in silence for another hour, cutting through the foliage and doing our best to avoid the carnivorous plants. We really only succeed in wearing ourselves out. I’m still not certain we’re working at full capacity after the Killing Trees incident and we haven’t eaten since the AppleFrog’s. I don’t know how long we can trek through the forest like this before we run out of steam, but I’m drenched in sweat by the time we stumble through the trees and find a large rushing river.
“The Amazon River,” Locke reads from his map, frowning. “It didn’t have a name before, but it does now.”
“A real river,” I repeat. There are no rivers in Dross. What water we have comes from our decaying water collection system. Someone once tried to explain it to me, something about condensation and moisture, but I didn’t follow. I know it’s a system that will fail at some point and then Dross will be in danger of extinction if some other source of water isn’t found. But here in the Harrow, there’s a whole, massive river. It’s so large, that the bank on the other side of it is small.
The water itself is brown, so it doesn’t exactly look safe to drink, but I’m thirsty, it’s hot, and I haven’t had a drink since we left the AppleFrog’s. It can’t hurt just to test it and see if it’s okay.
I kneel down beside the river and peer deeply into the water. When nothing moves immediately, I lean forward.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Locke says.
“It’s just water,” I say, dipping my hands in and scooping up a handful. I take a careful sip and sigh. It’s cold and perfect and so refreshing after being so hot, that I down the rest in my hands and reach for more.
“Yeah,” Locke agrees. “But what’s in it?”
A trumpet sounds so loud and suddenly, I fall backward onto my ass in surprise. My eyes widen as the notification pops up in front of my face and I read the first few words before Cipher’s sexy voice starts to read it.
BOSS BATTLE INITIATED: THE LIVING FOSSILE
River monster. Dinosaur fish. Always hungry. The arapaima wears armor you’ll find difficult to pierce. Good look, player.
The arapaima requires defeat and consumption to complete this battle.
“What,” I say, staring at the water as something large splashes in the middle of the river followed by the sound of something loud smacking as it peaks above the water, “the fuck?”
“Good luck, Vespera,” Cipher coos. “Remember to give it some pizzazz.”
“I told you!” Locke says, pulling his dull ass short sword from his inventory. “You shouldn’t have touched the water.”
“This is what we were looking for,” I argue, pulling my own useless blade. The creature begins to cut through the water, and we get a good look at its body. It moves fast, deadly fast, and seems to be trying to find a way to get at us on the shore. Luckily, it seems limited to the water.
“That was before I knew it was in the water,” Locke counters. He glances at me warily. “I can’t exactly . . . swim.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t exactly say I know how to swim either. What need have we to learn when Dross didn’t have rivers? Dox knows how, having spent time in the under-tunnels, but I never learned. It wasn’t necessary. The chances of drowning in Dross are mostly limited to someone holding your head under water in a wash basin. And at that point, you have bigger problems than swimming.
“Fuck,” I growl. “How are we supposed to fight something in the water if we can’t swim?”
He shrugs. “Lure it to the edge and stab it? I don’t know.” He rubs his forehead. “But it said the thing has armor of some sort.”
I wince. Oh. So, it’s going to be like that then. I tap the water with my blade and the arapaima comes rushing closer, but not close enough. It stays just offshore, cutting close and then cutting away, like it’s playing a game of Chicken. It’s large enough I’m willing to bet the thing can’t actually get close enough to reach us, the water too shallow close to shore. We’re not going to be able to get it if one of us doesn’t play Chicken back.
“Trade me weapons,” I order, reaching for Locke’s sword. “Just for this.”
Locke eyes me skeptically, but hands me his short sword and I give him my dagger. Then I turn to the river edge and start to kick off my boots.
“The fuck are you doing?” Locke demands, watching me as I flex my toes.
The ground is muddy as I gather my courage and step to the edge. I start rolling my shoulders, trying to loosen up. “Killing it.”
“That thing is bigger than both of us,” Locke growls. “You can’t go in the water and wrestle it.”
“I don’t gotta wrestle it,” I argue. I step one foot down into the water and sink into the mud. I try not to think about what other creatures might be in the water. “I just gotta kill it.”
“This is ridiculous,” Locke grunts, before starting to kick off his boots, too. “You’re going to get us both killed.”
“Then stay on the shore,” I growl back.
