Chapter Twenty-Four: The Lord of Dartmoor
Guardians of the Twilight Lands -- The Sixth Book of Unexpected Enlightenment
The watery nymph crashed over her like a wave. Rachel braced for the terrible icy cold. Her legs swept out from beneath her. Then, everywhere was water. Now it was Rachel whom Dart cradled like an infant, gazing down with a sweet yet malicious smile. Rachel knew she should have felt trapped and vulnerable, but she did not. She merely felt joyful. She had put her mind to saving the boy, and, assuming that he was not already dead, he was safe. She did not think beyond that. Despite the coldness and the lack of air, she smiled back at Dart, who looked faintly surprised and perhaps disappointed.
Suddenly, Dart’s attention moved to the shore. Through the blue watery veil, which bent everything outside strangely, Rachel could see Siggy shouting at the river nymph. He gestured and grinned as he strutted back and forth, crowing like Peter Pan. Rachel could hear the crowing faintly through the water. What could he be doing?
Dart surged, flowing toward the blond boy, and Rachel suddenly knew. For a split instant, she was more terrified than she had ever been in her life. An image of a pale, bloated Sigfried floated before her mind’s eye. Valerie had already lost a friend to drowning. How could she bear losing her boyfriend, too?
Then, Rachel chuckled.
This proved a mistake; she lost some of her precious air; but perhaps, if Siggy had his way, she would not need to hold it much longer.
A moment later, she was not underwater anymore. Dart threw her at the riverbank and dragged Siggy into the water. Rachel sailed through the air, barely getting her feet under her. She landed on the slick moss and went sprawling across the rocks. Her knee struck the stone painfully. What breath she had knocked out of her as she slid across the mossy stone.
Gratefully, she gulped new fresh air.
It felt good to breathe. How had Siggy convinced Dart to make the switch? Had he told her how famous he was? That would have done it. Dart could not have resisted drowning the most famous boy in the World of the Wise.
“T-thank y-y-you!” Rachel called over her shoulder, suddenly aware of the cold.
Sigfried waved cheerfully from where he floated in the embrace of Dart. He did not look a bit discontented, not even by the icy temperature, which was the only thing Rachel was anxious about. She did not want him to freeze to death, but beyond that, she was not worried.
Siggy could breathe water.
Despite the pain in her knees, Rachel tried to rise. Her parka, her dress, her bloomers, and her stockings, soaking and heavy, made this difficult. The bow that had clipped back her hair had vanished, and her sodden locks hung free about her shoulders, sticking to her face and getting in her eyes. After three tries, she successfully climbed painfully to her feet. Her knee ached.
Dart smiled down at Sigfried, cradling him in her arms. Siggy rested in the water, his hands folded behind his head, looking cheerful. The river nymph scowled.
Teeth chattering, Rachel tried the cantrip that she had failed to cast in front of Agent Armel. “S-ilu var-renga. Ta-a-f-flu.”
No result. Her teeth were chattering too hard for her to make a decent go at it.
“Si-l-lu v-aren-nga. T-tafl-flu.” She tried again. “S-silu-lu va-varen-ga-ga. Tafl-lu.”
She drew herself up as she had when calling to Dart. “Silu varenga. Taflu!”
To her astonishment, the water on her clothing followed her taflu gesture, formed into a ball, and dropped with a splash into the river. My, it felt nice to be dry.
The sounds of crying and weeping rose above the roar of the river. The Persian family still gathered on the jut of rock shelf. Rachel ran up the bank, leaping across the surging waters when necessary, to where the three adults stood around the motionless boy. Up on the bank, the other woman still held the remaining two children, forcing them to look away. The little ones wailed, trying to get to their supine brother.
Drawing herself up again, Rachel cast the cantrip: “Silu varenga. Taflu!”
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