Hola, amigos! I hope that the story of Riva Mischa has interested you so far, and I still think myself suicidal, writing so much in so little time. I guess I'm trying to get as much of Riva's tale in as possible before Easter Break ends (I've got a mere six days to write more, and only God knows whether or not I'll be able to post anything), so that I won't lose my plot line and come to a complete dead end like I have with short stories that I've written previously… Ah, well…Read and Review, because it means the world to me to know that others beside myself read my writings, and I need the support to finish this thing…

Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Materials trilogy, and I only claim the characters, events, and clarineto as my own.

Chapter Five

I was surprised. No, I was shocked. And I was getting mad. "Logan? Can you tell me what the hell is going on?" I demanded. "No, wait- Drop the 'can you' and tell me what the hell is going on."

"Calm down, Mischa," Logan said, no longer letting any emotion touch his face. "Nialliv and I go way back."

"What do you have there, Bainbridge?" Nialliv asked. "Is that the girl that has the clarineto?"

I frantically shook my head at Logan, causing the soldiers surrounding us to laugh cruelly, but Logan ignored me and nodded an affirmative. "It's her. She's called Riva Mischa."

The commander turned his brown eyes back to me and grinned, his teeth stained by smoke leaf and crooked. "You'll be an interesting addition to our entertainment," Nialliv declared, and the soldiers chuckled cruelly. "But before we can contemplate that, we must bring her back so that she can be processed. Thank you, Logan, for this magnificent find. I owe you a few rounds of drinks."

Logan nodded, and some of the soldiers put aside their rifles before grabbing me roughly. "Logan!" I cried in alarm, and Konstantin tried to reach Mackenzie. But the Magisterium soldiers' dæmons blocked his way, and Logan didn't even glance over at me. The soldiers roughly tied my hands together, and pulled out a large piece of canvas from one of their travel packs.

"LOGAN!" I screamed once more, before I was tightly gagged. My eyes met Logan's, and I wanted to kill him, because he had betrayed me, and he was letting them do this to me. Konstantin was savaging the dæmons of my captors, but he was quickly pinned down, and I found out what the canvas was for.

Those soldiers that weren't holding me were laying the canvas out flat on the ground. Then I was shoved roughly to my knees and forced to lie on my back. Someone grabbed my hair, someone else my legs, and I was wrapped up like a fresh sandwich in the canvas as Konstantin was forced to lie down next to me. I could see nothing but white, I couldn't talk, I couldn't move, I was helpless, and someone swung me over his shoulder.

I could hear voices, but I could barely make out what they were saying. The canvas around me shifted as the person carrying me walked, and then I could hear clearly. "… We have enough canvas breathing bubbles for everyone?" It was Logan's voice- oh, how I shook with rage when I heard that bastard speak.

"Yes, sir. We don't need to worry about the girl- there's enough air trapped in there with her for her to breathe while we go back," said the man carrying me.

"And do we have enough weights?"

"Yes."

"What about the girl?" Logan queried. "How will we be sure that she'll sink with us?"

"I have extra weights, sir. And when we're under the window, I'll release both her and the weights. That way we'll both make it up, and then we'll be back where it's safe," the man replied.

"Be careful. The Carmelingo has taken special interest in the clarineto and its new owner. We cannot afford for her to be injured. "

"Yes, sir."

From what I could gather, the soldiers were going to go back through the window. They would have the newfangled canvas breathing bubbles, while I might die of suffocation or drowning. I didn't mind drowning when I was able to swim, but to drown trapped in canvas? My greatest fear was being helpless during any event when I might die or be harmed. I wriggled and writhed and twisted on the soldier's shoulder, trying to loosen my bonds, to escape the inevitable.

Instead of being dropped or released, I received a blow to the head from the butt of a rifle for my pains. I almost blacked out, but the sound of splashing kept me from falling that far. The sudden disappearance of the sound of crashing waves and the sudden coolness inside the canvas informed me that we were underwater, and that I was going to die.

I wriggled again, this time with the franticness of one facing death, and managed to slip free before strong arms wrenched me close to their owner's body. I thrashed wildly- or at least, as wildly as one can manage while underwater with one's limbs bound- but the person holding me merely tightened their grip.

Suddenly the water temperature decreased and the person holding me released me. I floated upwards as my air-supply decreased. It's a truly terrifying experience to feel the canvas around you shrink and expand as you try to draw as much air as possible into your lungs with your mouth gagged. And then I felt myself sinking. Konstantin whined, and I cried silently, tears pouring out of my eyes, soaking my face and hair. We kept on sinking, and I tried to break free of the canvas, blinding terror filling my mind, and if I hadn't been gagged, I would have screamed.

Warm arms suddenly encircled me, and I felt someone bring me tightly to their body. Water whooshed past us and I went limp with relief as I felt air against the damp canvas. There was splashing, and the person carrying me held me tightly against their chest, keeping me away from that horrible water. Konstantin was on my chest, and he licked my cheek reassuringly as we were carefully put down on the shore.

I heard the sound of ripping rope and canvas and sunlight blinded my eyes. My savior-for indeed he was- pulled the canvas away from me, and cut my bonds. He leaned over me to check my pulse in my neck, and the gentleness in the touch reminded me of a good memory from not so long ago. "Logan?" I croaked.

The person drew away, and I struggled to sit up. "No, wait!" I cried- or at least, tried to. And then my vision cleared, and I saw that it indeed had been Logan. "Logan!"

He looked at me coldly. "What do you want?"

Konstantin pressed his wet body against me, and I clung to him for both warmth and support. "Where are the soldiers?"

"Commander Nialliv was left behind- he missed the window, so the soldiers are trying to find him and bring him back."

"You saved me, Logan! Why?"

"No. I saved the clarineto."

"But why? Why didn't you take it away from me before we went through the window and leave me on the shore?" I demanded, hurt. "Why did you betray me?"

Logan stood up, and Mackenzie spoke quietly. "The Carmelingo has a special interest in the clarineto, and its current owner. It was for the clarineto, and for the Carmelingo's demand that you be alive when you reached him that Logan and I saved you. Nothing more."

Konstantin broke out of my arms and looked at Mackenzie intently. "Why?" he asked her, with his voice full of pain. "Was it all a game to you? Was there no semblance of friendship at all between us? Why did you betray us?"

Logan turned his back to us, and Mackenzie went over to him, speaking softly. There was a tenseness in his shoulders, and his stance was one of pained resignation, and there was no doubt in my mind that we were friends, and he wanted us to be more. "Logan," I whispered, tears filling my eyes. "Why?"

He wheeled around sharply, and his face was a mask of pain and rage. "I have been promised more wealth than I have ever had, and I cannot deny myself the life of luxury that Mackenzie and I have been waiting for ever since we were old enough to realize that being hungry hurt, and wearing the same rags for years at a time wasn't the only way of life. This is the chance of a lifetime, and if it means giving you over to the Magisterium, then so be it."

"But what about us? I thought maybe you cared for me, maybe I was good enough for you, I though that maybe you might feel the same for me that I feel for you," I said, the tears that I had struggled to control pouring down my face.

Logan's eyes seemed to be full of tears, but he was able to control them. "I did- I still do. But I need the money. Please, Riva, try to understand."

Konstantin licked my face dry, and then I felt something go cold inside me. "Oh, I understand. I understand all too well."

So, here is Chapter Five. Now, Logan is a traitor… how sad. Poor Riva, he seems to have betrayed her for money. Maybe he'll have a change of heart… Read and Review- I must have at least one review to post Chapter Six.