Chapter 19

Another update just because the end is so close.

Halt and Will dragged the raft to the waters edge. The current spat froth when it hit rocks, droplets of fresh water spraying their cloths. Further out, the river's temper eased, though the lines of a rapid current streaked the blue. Worse than that for Antil, as the sole remaining Oramine in the party, was the depth of his fear for the monster fish that roamed these waters. Will had his own nerves about the matter; he remembered encountering it early on and it's needle teeth. It had snatched him from the bank and dragged him under. He didn't care to think what it could do to him if they capsized.

They had their tiger pelts and weapons bundled up at the bank. They were all too conscious that the tribespeople would find their own kind dead, and after Will and Halt's clumsy expedition for the rope, they knew there were foreigners out there. They'd be looking around for them. The first places they'd check would be the ones the dead scouts had been searching. Of course, Will didn't know if they spoke a language intelligent enough to have appointed areas for their scouts but Halt was adamant that they had to assume the worst.

Lillian's head swivelled around as if she expected muderers to leap from the trees at any moment. Will assured her if there was anyone there he'd have noticed them, or at least Halt would have. It didn't ease her anxiety.

Halt pushed the raft onto the current. It bobbed as the river tried to snatch it away. He held it in place, a sheen of water sloshing over the logs.

Antil and Lillian leaned on the bundled up tiger fur. They had two spears each. Will and Halt had one between them and the others were packed up with the tiger fur. The rangers needed their hands free to paddle, though the sole spear gave them security. Will tucked it under his arm as he carefully crawled onto the raft.

He knelt on it and it dipped under his weight, water soaking his knees and calves. Lillian handed him his paddle. He balanced his spear across his lap and accepted it from her. Will could feel the river bucking underneath him, he knew he'd need the strength of both his arms on the paddle to avoid being swept away by the current.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Lillian questioned miserably.

"It'll be fine," Will grinned at her. "We'll just give it a test run; then we'll come back for you."

Neither Lillian nor Antil were overly enthusiastic about it. It wasn't just concern for the rangers; they didn't want to be alone on the bank if the tribespeople found them and they feared if anything happened to Halt and Will they wouldn't last long on their own. It was only now that it struck them how much they'd been relying on the rangers.

"Antil, hold it while I get on," Halt instructed. The healer did as he was bid, gripping the edge of the raft. He winced as his hands were submerged in water, tensing as he waited to see if a giant fish would drag him under.

The raft dipped further as Halt clamboured aboard, but it didn't sink. The older ranger positioned his paddle and Will did the same.

"We'll head for the opoosite shore. If we're still afloat halfway across the river, we'll come back for you," Halt said. They'd agreed on this earlier. After all, it would be galling to get all the way over and then have to turn back. So they'd go half of the way and then assume they could manage the rest, albeit with more weight.

"Ready?" Halt asked.

Will swallowed, touching his paddle to the surface of the water- although really it was no more than a stick. Ripples trailed around it. He felt like he was at the start of a race, not knowing where he'd be in the next few seconds. Images flashed around his mind of how this could all go horribly, terribly wrong.

"Ready," he said, his voice husky.

"Alright, you can let go Antil," Halt said. He managed to sound as calm as always and Will had to marvel at that skill. Then they were hurtling sideways from the current, being splashed and spun around. He thrust his paddle into the water, heaving with all his might. Halt did the same and they inched forward.

They were travelling down river faster than they were getting across it. The raft whirled around. Halt yelled out instructions and the shoved they paddled on the same side to try and get it under control. Will was dizzy and he'd lost all sense of co-ordination. He couldn't figure out which way was forward anymore. He just followed Halt's directions.

Lillian and Antil ran along the bank after them, tiger fur knotted around their necks and streaming behind them like cloaks because they weren't about to leave them behind. Will heard them calling his name, and Halt's name too. He caught a glimpse of orange, and thought some striped tiger was flying through the trees. It took him a moment to register that it was his companions.

"Halt!" he yelled and didn't know what to say after that. He wanted comfort, or direction: do this and everything would be alright. Will had a moment of deja vu from when he'd been on the skandian ship with Evanlyn. He felt like an apprentice out of his depth again.

They struggled to the deeper parts. Though it had looked calmer, this was deceit. The current snatched them away. They were soaked through right up to their waists. To make it even more unpleasant, Halt's seasickness got the better of him and Will heard an awful retching noise and saw lumpy vomit mixing with the water.

He remembered when they'd been taken across to the wild. They'd been in a sturdy boat with muscled guards powering them over the water; and even they had strained. Will had to kick himself. How could he have ever thought that two men could handle the row on their own, without a proper boat, without proper paddles and slowly withering away as they were? His desperation to escape must have been getting the better of him.

Once maybe, it would have been acheivable, when they were strong and capable. Will didn't feel like a ranger anymore. The strength leaked from the skin that stretched taunt over his bones. Each stroke of the oar grew sloppier and clumsier.

Then the water was all around him and he was sinking, down, down and sideways too, along with the current. It seemed strangely peaceful, even though he still drifted with the current. Will's mind caught up to him. They had capsized; he wasn't sure how, probably they had leaned too far one way and tipped over the edge. He hoped giant fish weren't attracted to vomit.

Will forced his eyes open. He could see nothing but dark bluey green and a slither of weed uplodged from its roots and drifting by. Above him, the sun filtered through the top of the water. He stretched his arms towards it, propelling himself upwards.

A shape darted above him, momentarily blocking the light and leaving everything in darkness. It was the shadow of a fish, a big fish, bigger than the one that had bitten Will's hand. The young ranger still had his paddle clenched in his fist, even though he'd lost his spear, and he tried to swing it at the shape to frighten it away. That did no good; in the water his movements were slowed and had no force behind them.

His lungs strained for air. He clawed his way upwards, not bothering to fight against the current. If it carried him miles away, that was fine as long as he could get a breath. Something scaly brushed against his leg and he flinched, a shudder jolting up his body.

His fingertips broke into air. He doubled his effort and managed to snatch a breath before he was hurtling underwater again. Will could only pray his mentor was alright. There wasn't much he could do to help.

He fought his way to the surface again and took a raggid breath. Water crept into his mouth and he choked and coughed. It was as good as he could do; he dived down low, hoping the current wasn't as strong near the bottom. It still tugged him along, but he swam towards the bank even as he was being dragged and it was a bit calmer away from the surface.

When his lungs burned for more air, he focused his energy on getting another breath. Then he dived down again. A sharp pain stung his leg. He twisted around and realised he'd grazed it on a rock. That was good in that the river was shallower here; he must be nearing the bank. It was bad that there would be all sorts of carnivorous fish that would smell the blood.

At least, that might draw them away from Halt if his mentor was in trouble. Will gripped a rock, battling against the current. He dragged himself over the rocks, his paddle still in one hand. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes stinging from the water. A shape hurtled towards him and he pushed the paddle at it. It connected with something that must have bitten the make shift oar because it was torn from Will's grasp.

He tugged himself along on the rocks, faster now in his hurry to get away. His hands thumped against a larger rock and he followed it upwards until he was free of the water. But not the current; he had to seize hold of a handful of grass to stop himself from being hurtled further down the river.

The grass ripped from the bank and Will's eyes widened in panic. He scrabbled for a hold, managing to grab another fistful as he went whizzing past the bank. Without pause, he threw his arms over the edge of the steep bank and hauled himself up. It was such a relief when his legs thumped the ground.

Will lay still, panting. His limbs were rubber. He gagged up water, rolling onto his front to spit and hurl and toss up the river. His toes curled in his boots; his clothes stuck to his skin. He shivered and tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out and he collapsed.

He wasn't sure how long he lay there. It was the fear that Halt hadn't yet found the shore that prompted him to drag himself to a sitting position and survey his surroundings.

There was no familiar land on the other side of the river, just a dark shape of trees. Will was sick of trees. There was a moss covered one not far from where he was sitting that bothered him. It had so many sturdy looking branches it might have liked to help him out of the water. But no, like all of it's kind, it decided to cruelly sit back and watch.

Will shook his head, knocking water out of his ears. He thought he might be going insane.

He stripped off his clothes and hung them over his shoulder. It would be colder walking around in wet clothes than it would be if he was naked. He trudged along the bank, his bare feet padding on the dewy grass.

As he walked, he scanned the river for any sign of Halt. It was hard to imagine the monsters under the rippling surface, hidden just from sight and untouchable, even if he had seen shadows of them and felt them. On land, they seemed unreal.

His legs became more steady as he got fresh air in his lungs. He began to jog, still alert for any sign of his mentor. Will was surprised at how far the current had taken him. At any moment he expected to see a familiar landmark but there were none for a good fifteen minutes of jogging.

Then he spotted a soggy person heaving himself out of the river.

"Halt!" Will cried, hurrying over. He gripped his mentors sopping elbows and pulled him onto the bank. Halt coughed and spluttered. Will was quite alarmed- had he looked so pitiful when he first made his way out of the water.

"Why didn't the current take you as far?" Will questioned.

Halt shrugged. "I found a spot where the current was weaker and held onto the rocks," he explained. "I was having trouble getting onto the bank." It was reasonably steep where Halt was, almost a miniture cliff into the water.

The older ranger stripped off his clothes and boots as well. He jumped up and down, rubbing his arms to keep warm. Will gave him some time to recover, then they both jogged together.

It wasn't long after that when they heard Lillian crying and calling their names. They picked up the pace and rounded a bend. Antil and Lillian had been jogging to meet them, though they had since slowed to a laboured walk as neither of them were very fit. Lillian raised her blurred vision as they came into view and a wide grin split her face. Immediately after, a dark blush spread over her cheeks and she closed her eyes.

Antil gave them a tiger fur each to wrap around themselves. Will sighed in satisfaction as the thick fur blocked out the chill. He'd put the statue he'd found in the tribesmen's camp inside it and now he remembered and scooped it up as it clattered to the ground. Antil was giving Halt the other fur and didn't notice.

"You can look now," he said to Lillian, fractionly amused. She peeked between her finger. Satisfied that they were covered, she gave them both a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank god you're alright," Lillian exclaimed. "I don't know what we would have done without you! Oh but you're here, so it doesn't matter." Even so, she couldn't stop herself from sobbing; no matter how many tears she brushed away there was always another to replace it.

"That idea didn't work," Antil observed. Halt sniffed.

They spread their wet clothes out on the ground to dry. Will played with the statue under the fur, fingering the little platforms and picking at the wax where a candle had once burned. Lillian settled beside him, leaning against the tiger fur. Halt stared out over the river, eyes dark. Antil picked grass and laid the blades in a row.

"I should have never gotten my hopes up," the healer said. "I should have known from the start that we are doomed. We'll never leave this place until death takes pity on us."

Lillian started crying again. Will couldn't summon the effort to comfort her, or even argue with Antil. What could he possibly say? He was out of ideas. He looked to Halt for comfort, but the older ranger lacked his usual confident and wise aura. He just appeared exhausted.

Will removed the statue from under his cloak and placed it on the ground for all of them to see. "What do you think it is?" he asked, because he wanted them to have something else other than failure on their minds.

Halt frowned. "Where did you get that from?" he asked.

"It's oramine," Lillian was saying before Will got a chance to reply. "It's one of their worshipping statues, remember?"

Will did remember, now that she had mentioned it. He'd thought there was something familiar about the stature but hadn't been able to place it.

When they'd first arrived in Oramin, and Sirisa (the appointed head of foreign dealings Sirisa; the polite Sirisa who had hidden her true self from them) had showed them to their rooms, there had been a similar statue.

"It is, it is," Antil said. He gingerly picked it up, holding it up to the sun as if it were the most sacred treasure. "I have not seen one in so long. When they held me imprisoned I was forbidden from one. It must be a sign. The gods have not forgotten us."

"I got it from the tribe," Will said in reply to Halt's question. "I wasn't thinking about it consciously, I just grabbed it and took it with me when I got the rope."

"It called to you," Antil said. "The gods have called to you."

Will was doubtful that this was the case. But Halt murmured, 'indeed' and asked if he could hold it. For a second, Antil clutched it to his chest as if he would rather give his heart than seperate from the statue. Halt held out his hand and waited. Antil glanced at them, realised the statue was not his, and passed it over.

"This is untarnished," he observed aloud. "It hasn't even a scratch on it. If it had been in the jungle for long it would be in worse condition."

"What are you saying?" Lillian didn't understand. Will did. The tribespeople had been to Oramin and recently. But how? They couldn't have crossed the river. Surely they wouldn't be strong enough to row over the current.

"They couldn't have made it across the river," Antil voiced Will's thoughts.

"Somehow, it seems as if they have," Halt stated.

Will stared down at his hands. He struggled to come up with an explanation of how the tribespeople had made a raft or a kayak sea worthy enough to cross the river. They were scrawny people; they wouldn't have the strength to row across. Unless there was a trick? A way of navigating over the current?

If there was, Will needed to know it. He flinched suddenly, twisting around the feel up the pockets of his shirt. There; the ring was still there. He relaxed, twirling it on his finger. He wished now he had given it to Alyss before he'd left.

Will smiled, recalling his last attempt at proposing. It had been after that chess game. The image of her smile brought a lump to his throat. Her teasing laugh as she witnessed yet another defeat to Halt. The wily old ranger always beat him and always in three moves. He refused to teach Will the strategy, just said "you should try thinking outside the box sometimes."

And then Will stopped reflecting on the past. He frowned. He tapped his thumb on his leg, thinking. Thinking outside the box, outside the river he'd been so fixated on. Thinking about certain events in the wild, and the stories Ruch had told and how such stories got warped over time.

"Maybe," he said slowly, "we don't need to go over the river at all."