Daughter of Witches: A Lyra Novel (15 page)

As she fell, she heard splashes and a brief wail that sounded like Shandy. Then she hit the water. The river was deep, and far colder than she remembered. The current pulled her along. In panic, she tried to fight her way to the surface. Her head broke water at last, and she gasped in relief, then gasped again as she started to sink once more. Her second breath sucked in a mouthful of water, and she choked. Most of her breath was gone, but she could not keep her head in the air long enough to draw another.

A wave of water smothered her, but a moment later an arm encircled her waist. Almost at once she found her head above water. She coughed and gasped. “Stop thrashing around,” a voice said in her ear. “It won’t do any good, and it will certainly attract the Templemen if you keep it up. Relax.”

Ranira recognized Jaren’s voice and tried to do as he said. Under his guidance she found herself floating on her back while the man supported her head. When at last she became convinced that she was not going to drown, she tried to look around. She was rewarded with a glimpse of several dark shapes above the water nearby before she started sinking again.

“Relax, I said,” Jaren whispered. “Everyone’s all right; you don’t need to see them.”

“But Shandy,” Ranira spluttered. “He can’t swim either.”

“Arelnath has him. It’s all right, I tell you. Be quiet.”

As if to confirm Jaren’s words, a second voice whispered in the darkness. The echoes from the water distorted the sound slightly, but Ranira could still identify the speaker as Mist. “The Temple will send men soon, and probably the snakes as well,” she said. “We must…” Ranira lost the rest of the sentence in a little wave that covered her ears briefly. Jaren must have heard, though, for almost immediately he shifted his grip on her and she felt a surge of water as his legs kicked.

Between Jaren’s efforts and the increasing current, they moved quickly. The river narrowed as it approached the city walls, where it flowed faster and deeper. Ranira grew more nervous, but quickly discovered that whenever she began to grow tense she also began to sink. Jaren was concentrating on swimming; he had no attention to spare for advising her. Somehow he seemed able to consistently choose the fastest part of the river. They were approaching the arching walls of the city with frightening speed.

Just as they swept under the wall, Ranira saw lights along the bank they had just vacated. She stiffened and cried out, pointing, but the movement pushed her mouth under water and the cry came out in bubbles. Then they were under the city wall. Jaren stopped swimming and clamped a hand over Ranira’s mouth. She heard the water slapping softly at the sides of the tunnel, and nodded understanding. The walls multiplied even that slight noise into an eerie murmur; any additional sound, at least until they reached the end of the tunnel, was certain to carry back to the Templemen. Jaren’s hand loosened its hold, but remained ready in case he had not interpreted her nod correctly.

The tunnel was pitch-black. Ranira had no idea how wide it was, or how long. It seemed to her that they had been in darkness far longer than it would take to pass under the thickness of the city walls. Just as that thought occurred to her, her head scraped the top of the tunnel, then scraped it again. Jaren pulled her backward, so that only her nose and mouth were above water. The top of the tunnel continued to drop. Jaren tapped her head with his finger. Guessing what was coming, Ranira took à deep breath just before the roof of the tunnel met the water and they had to dive. Jaren held her under one arm like a sack of flour and began to kick again, assisting the current now that no splash could betray them to the Templemen.

Without warning, the current swirled into a confusing mass of eddies, then slowed. Jaren kicked again, and they bobbed to the surface. Ranira gasped air and felt Jaren’s warning touch on her shoulder. They had surfaced just outside the city wall, where the river widened into a broad pool. Elewyth hung just above the horizon, and silver-green sparkles of moonlight lit the ripples on the water. It made the swimmers very conspicuous, Ranira realized as she watched first a single dark head and then two more break water nearby. Behind them, the wall of the city loomed dead-black against the stars. She blinked as a shadow passed along the top of the wall, then realized that a guard was patrolling there. She swallowed hard. If he looked in their direction, he would surely see them.

Ranira forced her eyes away from the wall and back to the river; watching the guard would only make her tense enough to sink again. Determinedly, she stared at the water, and noticed an S-shaped ripple near the far bank. She blinked, then saw another, and suddenly realized what they were. Snakes! She froze and started to sink at once, but her fear of the snakes outweighed her fear of drowning. Jaren’s grip on her shoulders was all that kept her from going completely under before she saw one of the snakes turn aside. Unbelieving, her eyes flickered to the second ripple. It, too, changed direction before it came within an arm’s length of the swimmers. “It’s working,” she whispered, too softly even for Jaren to hear. “It really is working.”

Gradually, the current carried the little group past the wide section of the river, to where it turned and narrowed once more. Ranira grew impatient. Even with Jaren’s cautious kicks and one-handed strokes to aid the current, they were moving far more slowly than a walking man. Then she remembered the guards. A group of people clambering up the banks of the river would be easy to see at this distance, and it would be hard to avoid making noise that might attract a Watchman’s attention.

The river narrowed again at last and the current quickened. The banks grew higher, hiding the swimmers from the city walls. Jaren began to swim more strongly, angling toward the south bank of the river where a little grove of trees near the water’s edge could give the fugitives some shelter. The water grew shallower. Ranira’s feet touched bottom. Thankfully she stood up, and, with Jaren steadying her, began moving slowly toward the shore.

The trees were still nearly twenty paces downstream, and the bank was nearly as far. The river was shallower only because some quirk of flow had deposited layer upon layer of pebbles and sand along a wide band from the riverbank to the place where Ranira and Jaren stood, creating a low shoal. She could hear small watery noises behind her—Mist and Arelnath were still swimming. She turned her head, but the distance was too great for her to find them in the darkness.

Suddenly something like a heavy club hit Ranira between the eyes. She stumbled, pulling on Jaren’s supporting arm. Her head rang. It was a moment before she realized that there had been no physical blow; Jaren had noticed nothing until she pulled at him. A second blow fell, but this time Ranira was almost ready for it, and she did not fall. Blood pounded painfully in her ears. Simultaneously, she heard a gasp and a low moan from the direction of the deeper water. Between the darkness and her own discomfort, she could not identify the speakers. Then, as unexpectedly, as it had come, the pressure vanished.

Ranira shook her head to clear it. Beside her, Jaren stood chest-deep in water, still holding her arm, his head twisted to look backward. Ranira turned with him, eyes and ears straining over the dark water, until Arelnath’s whisper came floating back from just beyond the shallows. “Jaren! Mist is unconscious. Help me with her!”

Jaren dropped Ranira’s arm and lunged back out into the river. Water surged up in waves on either side of him. Ranira stood frozen for a moment, listening to the indeterminate sounds coming from the middle of the river. The high banks that hid them from the city walls also blocked out the moonlight, so she could not see any of her companions.

Suddenly a group of dark, dripping figures materialized in front of her. Jaren was carrying Mist while Arelnath stumbled along beside him, one hand braced on his shoulders, the other supporting a whimpering Shandy. “Ranira, take Shandy and get out of the river,” Jaren said shortly.

Ranira reached for Shandy. The boy was too big for her to carry, but too small to stand alone in the water. She settled for an awkward grip and half-carried, half dragged him away from Arelnath. The water was deeper for her than it was for Jaren, and she felt uneasy with the floating sensation it imparted to the simple act of walking.

“Hurry,” Jaren said. Obediently, Ranira tried to increase her speed, but almost at once she slipped. She started to panic as her head went under. One foot hit bottom and held long enough for her to lift her head out of the water, then it slid and she went down again. Twice more she regained her balance just long enough to take a brief gulp of air, only to lose it again. Finally she floundered into water shallow enough for her to find sure footing once more.

Water sheeted off her head as she pulled herself upright at last, coughing and choking. Shandy was in no better shape, though at least here he could stand unaided. She had dragged him along in her stumbling progress, and the boy had spent at least as much time under water as she had. He spluttered and splashed forward. Ranira kept one hand firmly locked on his shoulder, as much for her own sake as for Shandy’s.

Jaren and Arelnath went past on her right without stopping. Arelnath no longer leaned on Jaren’s shoulders, though she looked far from steady on her feet. Jaren, too, seemed unbalanced. He was holding Mist high above the water, so that not even the hem of her robe dipped into the river. Suddenly Ranira realized why he wanted her to hurry and why he was carrying Mist in such an awkward position: With Mist unconscious, there was nothing to keep the Temple snakes away from them!

In a panicky rush, Ranira splashed toward the riverbank, coughing and dragging Shandy with her. Her flight was halted by a dark figure that blocked her path. “Quiet!” Arelnath said sternly. “Do you want to attract every snake in the river?”

Ranira swallowed hard and began wading more slowly. Arelnath turned and accompanied her. In a matter of moments they reached the bank of the river. A weedy, tangled growth of plants bent toward the water from an almost vertical slope that rose from the ankle-deep river to just above Ranira’s head. There were no trees above them. In their hurry to leave the river, she and her companions had moved straight to the riverbank instead of at the angle that would have brought them to cover.

Without stopping to think, she reached up, groping for a good grip among the weeds. They were too shallow-rooted to support her weight, and she slid back into the water at once. Almost frantic from her fear of the snakes, she dug her hands into the mud behind the plants. Roots and water made it too slippery to find a firm hold. Arelnath was having a similar problem. Jaren stood unmoving behind her, holding Mist carefully. Shandy was the only one who had found a spot to climb; he was already halfway up the slope.

Frustrated and afraid, Ranira moved toward where Shandy had been standing. She immediately found the reason for his success: A small bush grew halfway up the bank, twisted but still anchored strongly enough to give a good starting point to a climber. Ranira grasped the base of the bush in one hand while her other clawed at the damp weeds and finally found purchase. Slowly, she dragged herself upward.

M
OONLIGHT WASHED OVER
R
ANIRA
as she reached the top of the bank and slid over a slight rise into the grassy weeds. Shandy squatted just in front of her. Below, she heard Arelnath hiss something at Jaren, but she was unable to make out the words. Soon there were rustling noises as Arelnath struggled upward. Ranira rolled out of the way, then to help Arelnath over the top of the bank.

As soon as she reached the top of the riverbank, Arelnath turned and squatted at the edge of the slope she had just climbed. “Brace me!” she hissed over her shoulder. Confused, Ranira hesitated. Arelnath leaned forward precariously, stretching into the darkness below. Ranira slid up to her just in time to see Jaren lifting Mist upward.

Without thinking, Ranira too leaned forward to support the unconscious woman. She heard a pained grunt from below, then Arelnath whispered, “Ready? Pull!”

Ranira pulled, and at the same moment Jaren gave the unconscious woman a shove upward. The unexpected extra force overbalanced Arelnath and Ranira, and they went sprawling backward with Mist’s body on top of them. As they struggled to untangle themselves, Ranira heard a smothered yelp from the river. Rustling noises followed. By the time the two women regained their feet, Jaren had reached the top of the bank and was untying the bundle he still wore strapped to his waist.

“Never mind that,” Arelnath said. “Come help me wake Mist. We must get as far from here as we can before daylight, and it will be easier traveling if she can walk instead of being carried.”

“I doubt that Mist will be in any condition to heal, even if you are able to wake her,” Jaren replied, kneeling and starting to unwrap the bundle. “Therefore I would rather continue with this.”

Arelnath’s right hand dropped to her waist, as if she were unconsciously feeling for a weapon. Even in the shadowy moonlight, Ranira could see the set expression on the woman’s face, and the tension in her voice was obvious. “Jaren, not the snakes?”

“I am afraid so, mihaya,” Jaren replied. “The leather stopped the first couple of bites, but the last one got my ankle.” He looked ruefully at the misshapen pile in front of him, then picked up one of the soft leather boots he had included at the last minute. “If I’d been wearing these, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“You couldn’t swim in boots,” Arelnath said. Her voice was shaking slightly, but her hand was steady as she reached down for one of the knives Jaren had taken from the Templemen. “Let me do it. You never have been good at things like this.”

“All right.” Jaren sounded almost relieved as he leaned back and stretched out his left leg toward her.

“What are you doing?” Ranira asked. She was still stunned by the news that Jaren had been bitten. She also had the distinct feeling that she had only heard half of the conversation; she could sense undercurrents she did not understand.