Water Under The Bridge, Chapter 3
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Insane, Kahlan thought as she struggled to the surface of the raging river, hoping she knew which way the surface was. She was being tumbled wildly, but her head broke through to air, and she gulped desperately. She tried to swim, but the river made any kind of consistent effort impossible. She was barely able to keep her head above water, let alone make any progress toward the opposite shore. The water was icy, and her fingers felt so numb she worried that she wouldn't be able to hold on even if she could get close enough to grab a passing branch.
She heard roaring, and tried to twist to look downstream, but as she turned her head, she saw cliffs rising on either side—and a moment later saw an enormous rock flying towards her…
The blow was stunning. She was past the rock, the cliffs flying by, before she was even aware of what had happened. An instant later, agony seared along her side. Ribs, she thought dimly. I have broken ribs. It was even harder now to move, each attempt bringing unimaginable pain. She gasped for air but got mostly water, and coughed agonizingly.
Then, suddenly, Kahlan found herself caught up in branches, and the banks slowed their rush past her. Then another jarring blow, and she came to a stop. She sobbed, trying to get air into her tortured lungs, the freezing water still pounding against her as she tried to ignore the stabbing sensations in her left side. She looked up, trying to see if she could climb out, using the tree she'd become entangled in. She turned, grabbing a branch, pulling herself toward the bank—it's even the right side, she thought, a wild hope springing in her. But then the tree shifted, making a horrible cracking sound, and she was whirling downstream again, now with her Confessor's gown tangled in the branches of the tree, pulling her under. If I live through this, she thought wildly, I'm going to make Confessors wear more practical clothes.
That was Kahlan's last coherent thought for a long time. She was too busy trying to keep her head above water to see if there was any way out of this nightmare. But the nightmare came to an ironic end, given her previous thought about her gown. Her sleeve caught on a rock outcropping when she struck it—this time on her right side, though miraculously the blow wasn't as violent. It held just long enough for her to grab hold of the rock and hang on, despite the river pulling furiously at her. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she was able to pull herself toward the bank, coughing up water as she went, each cough shooting pain up her side. Her knees touched bottom, and she crawled weakly forward, away from the deadly pull of the river, still strong even in this eddy. Away from the nightmare. Away from…
Of course, she thought, exhausted, looking back at the river…and then across at the far shore, where she hoped Richard would be. I'm on the wrong side. She looked up the bank, half-expecting to see D'Harans already. There weren't any there, but she wasn't sure it made much difference. She didn't think she could make it up the bank, and she was shaking from cold. This is ridiculous, she thought foggily, trying to crawl forward, but finding herself falling forward, barely keeping her face out of the muddy bank. I've fought Mord Sith, insane wizards, Darken Rahl himself, and I'm going to die from exposure…