Will they leave? Rib thought angrily as he pretended to nap beside the fire in the room. It was well past sundown and servants were offering Damara a number of things before she got into bed. A brush, a drink, another pelt to block out the cold.
The young woman responded to each of them with a few Huskhn words. Rib had been there when Zheal taught her some basics of the language, but even though he'd listened in hopes of talking with Memory, nothing made sense to him. He couldn't retain anything like Damara could.
How does she fit in so well here? What else don't I know about her?
Rib had both sets of eyelids closed, his inner ones allowing him to see the magic around him. He could see the servants finally exit the room and disappear into the jumble of magics outside. When they did, he opened his eyes to look at Damara sitting on the bed, staring into the fire.
He remembered how excited she had looked crafting bewitchment powder with Zheal.
Could she be a traitor?
"Whose side are you on?" Rib asked.
The young woman squinted at him over the flames.
"What do you mean?" she spoke in low tones.
"I mean whose side are you on."
Damara scoffed and got under the blankets, lying with her back to him. "My act must be convincing if it's fooled even you." Her voice came quietly over the crackling of burning wood.
"I've been watching you with Zheal," Rib growled. "I think you're fond of him."
Damara turned to him, glaring through the black fur that smothered half her face.
"Then you don't understand a thing. You think you have it so hard, acting like a dimwit for days on end? I'm the one who has to answer all his clever questions, spinning a story that makes sense, that won't get us killed."
So skilled as a deceiver.
Rib curled his lip back. "And how do I know you haven't been feeding me lies just the same?"
Damara closed her eyes tightly, then stared at him again, her expression stony.
"Do you see that?" she asked, jerking her head to the corner of the room nearest her.
Between the wall and the headboard of her bed was a space filled with extra blankets, or so Rib thought. As he squinted his eyes at it, he thought he saw the mouth of a gourd sticking out from behind the folds of cloth.
"Hidden there, I have food and water saved for the journey back. A few days' worth."
She's been stocking up? Rib wondered how he hadn't noticed before. If that's true then?
"Zheal promised the servants would be done pounding the bones by tomorrow," Damara went on. "As soon as I get that powder, I'm escaping on the serpent with Jacinth. If you don't trust me, you can stay behind."
She means it. Rib clenched his teeth. I can't believe her act even had me fooled.
After a moment of silence, he responded, "We're still taking my sister."
As Damara didn't say anything, he narrowed his eyes at her.
She knows that I won't be leaving without her, doesn't she? Was she hoping I'd given up on that?
The young woman frowned.
"Have you ever considered she's happy here?" she asked.
Happy?!
Rib had to fight to keep his voice down. "As long as she's that man's slave, my sister can't even begin to know happiness."
But Damara didn't look so convinced.
"You're wrong, Rib. You've seen her roaming around here, getting pats from Zheal. She is happy. Happier than you are."
"Happier?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "She can't be happy, she- she's a dumb animal!"
Wait.
Rib froze. The anger coursing through his veins turned to ice.
Did I just say that?
Called my sister a dumb animal?
He was ashamed.
"You really believe that?" Damara studied his face. He'd surprised them both with such a statement, and now he wished he could take it back, smite the thought from his head.
"No, that's?that's what he's turning her into, Damara," Rib spoke with trembling voice. "She can't think for herself, under him. She can't know happiness."
Damara's eyes dropped to the fur on her pillow.
"Alright," she said. "I only hope you can get her to come."
Rib groaned involuntarily. How can I be sure I will? Zheal has his fingers dug into her heart. She thinks she has to do everything he says.
"Rib?"
"How can I, Damara?" Rib beseeched her, having no other to turn to. "What can I do to convince her she needs this?"
"You're her brother," Damara answered. "Show her you need it."
I need it.
For some reason, her words struck him as profound.
I need it.
But what if I still fail?
What if I lose her? Again.
Damara must have read the discouragement on his face, for she propped herself up on one elbow and said, "I know how to get her to come. You won't like it."
Won't I? Rib fixed his eyes on her, hopeful. Anything to help me help her?
"It would only take a pinch to bewitch her. Hardly any powder at all. Just enough to get her far away from him."
Bewitch her.
Bewitch my sister.
Damara was right. The idea twisted Rib's stomach in knots. Even though it was sure to work.
After all those days thinking Zheal was bewitching her, and despising him for it.
Now I consider the same method?
"It feels wrong," he said.
"I know," was all Damara replied. Slowly, she pulled a pelt over her head and lay still. Rib gazed at her form beneath the blankets, feeling a heavy decision weighed upon him.
It would be so simple, he thought. Just a pinch. For her own good.
But I still have to try. Try to convince her to come.
After all, I'm her brother.
Rib stared somberly into the flames.
Can't that be enough?
. . .
It was morning when Zheal invited Damara to a trek in the mountains, where he had something to show her. Rib didn't wait to be beckoned before following after them, pleased when Memory bounded to his side.
The mountain they started at was stout but considerably tricky to climb. Rib stuck close behind Damara in fear that she'd slip on the loose shale, in need of catching.
They hiked for quite a while, with Memory doing laps around them. She seemed to want Rib and Zheal to walk closer together, practically herding them towards each other though Rib resisted. Once, her foot struck a puddle which splattered Zheal's white pelt with mud, but the Huskhn didn't seem to mind.
This is taking so long, Rib eventually grew impatient. Why aren't we flying? He was about to bump Damara in encouragement to get on his back when Zheal struck up a conversation.
"Now, what dragons do we know of aside from those on the island and those in Wystil?" the Huskhn asked. "There's the one belonging to that bat-brained King Griffith. And a certain Dragon Fool, if I'm not mistaken."
Me?!
Rib planted his feet, stricken with fear.
He knows of that?
However surprising Zheal's statement, Damara still managed to appear calm as she asked, "Dragon Fool?"
"Yes. A black-scaled beast known for its performances with a young male Eristad, so I'm told. Have you heard of it?"
That's right?he sees me as firebloom, but most anyone else would say I'm the color black. Rib couldn't believe his luck. So Zheal hasn't caught on that I am the Dragon Fool?
"No, in fact, I haven't," Damara lied as though it were second nature to her.
"Well," Zheal shrugged, "I hardly think it's worth hunting down at this point. No doubt we'll have it under our power later, as our plans progress."
"Indeed."
The humans continued walking on, casual as can be. Rib made an effort to keep out of Zheal's sight for a good while, just in case he were to suddenly reconsider the Dragon Fool's identity.
Even so, Rib grew aggravated as they slowed to such a pace that he
had to move painstakingly slow to keep behind them. Memory had long ago grown bored and went off to explore. He was tempted to join her, but feared that might bring attention to himself.
Zheal held his fur cloak around him with one hand and offered the other to help Damara up a shifty patch of shale, which she refused until she nearly lost her footing. The Huskhn laughed good-naturedly, having caught her by the waist. Rib could see the young woman grimace a little before springing up a couple more steps out of his grasp.
"Where is this place you speak of?" she asked, sending a rock clattering down the craggy slope with a light tap of her foot. Memory ran below, perking up to look at them when the shale slid down to meet her. Rib wanted to be with her, drinking from the stream she found, but he sensed that some heavy matter was soon to come up between the humans.
"Not far now," Zheal answered, grinning when he himself nearly slipped. "I suppose it'd have been easier to fly."
Why didn't we? We'd have gotten there so much quicker?What are we looking for, anyway?
"Is that it?" Damara stood at the summit of the mountain they'd been climbing, her hand raised to shield the sun from her face. "It's beautiful."
Beautiful? Rib wondered what could earn such a praiseworthy description from Damara and bounded forward to see.
Oh.
Before them, the grass and shale slopes continued on with forest pine growing in the shadowy depths. A number of crests away, dramatic mounts of grey rock rose to the sky, glacier forcing its way through the thick of them. At the base of this impressive mountain ridge stretched a gentle plain of green, on which stood what Rib believed to be a great stone church. Even from their distance, it was clear that the cathedral was abandoned, its proud pointed steeple overtaken by foliage.
"That it is," Zheal said. He startled Rib with an affectionate pat on the neck as he joined them, dirt clumped at the hem of his white fur cloak. "The Eristads built churches just like it all over the land. Huskhns haven't much need of this one, but we may soon. Shall we fly over?"
Yes please, Rib thought, relieved to not have to wait on their every step any longer as Damara swung herself up onto his back. It alarmed him, however, when Zheal took the liberty of joining her in the saddle as well.
He wants to ride me? Rib's hide threatened to bristle under his new rider. But why?
There was an uneasiness lying under Damara's tone as she asked, "Tired of your own steed?"
"Ah, I glimpsed her venturing a ways away. Besides, I'm sure your brute can handle the extra weight." With that, the Huskhn Heir clapped Rib on the shoulder wing.
Fine, Rib consented when he realized he'd rather be the one to carry the man than for his sister to have to. It's not that far of a flight anyway.
In but a couple minutes, Rib closed the gap between them and the church, landing before the great moss-coated cathedral doors. Two large trees with leaves red as blood and roots thick as ship masts stood on either side of the building.
Damara was quick to jump off Rib's back, followed by Zheal.
"I use to come here with Tairg when she was small," the young man recalled aloud. He leapt up the staircase and pointed to a large window, its glass long gone. "I would stand there and encourage her to fly from the sill. Took her a few tries, but in time she was sailing down these halls with as much grace as a dove."
Zheal smiled broadly in the doorway, splitting into a grin as a flock of startled white birds fled through the window he'd just indicated. The clapping sound of their wings sounded louder from within the empty church.
Zheal taught my sister how to fly? Rib's scales prickled with discomfort. That was supposed to be Tide's job.
As if alerted by the conversation about her, Memory suddenly appeared, alighting beside Zheal and circling about him a few times before stopping to rub her head against him. The young man laughed as he tried to keep himself from falling backwards with her pressing into him and purring like that.
Rib watched with despair.
Look how fond she is of him.
"Tairg remembers this place well, no doubt," Zheal said when the dragon finally left him to go exploring inside. "Come, I'll tell you what I've been thinking." He spoke to Damara, who still stood at the base of the steps. Rib waited for her to reach the top before going through the open doors after them.
Whoa.
The inside of the cathedral was impressive, stretching far from the entrance and supported by a row of thick columns on both sides. Its arched ceiling rose high above, the remains of intricate designs carved into its decaying, wooden beams. The entire building was dark with shadows, except for where the outside light was cast in through tall windows on either side and a pattern of smaller ones at the very front of the church. Towards the wide entrance, symmetrical balconies were built off the inner walls, similar to a third one placed at the far end. A grey brick path down the middle of the floor was the only indication of where the aisle once was, now littered with smashed apart benches.
It nearly feels intimidating. But how? It's only a structure.
Even to Rib, the cathedral was huge. He could only imagine what it must have been like for Memory when she was a little pupil, taught to fly in this place.
Yet, Memory seemed happy enough here now, weaving between pillars and broken windows. Zheal and Damara were heading for the front of the church, having resumed their discussion. Remembering the plans Zheal had promised to reveal, Rib hastily bound after them with the intention of listening in.
"I'm telling you, this was the perfect place for me to train her," the Huskhn was saying. He halted before the last standing bench and propped one foot up on it, his keen gaze sweeping the area. "I can't think of a better building. It's strong, well-protected. I can have it closed off so there are only a select few openings for them to come in and out of. Don't you think?"
Them? Who's them? Rib tried not to let his curiosity show, but instead feigned interest in a rotting plank of wood, scraping at the beetles that crawled on it with his foreclaw. Does Damara even understand what he's planning?
"You're right," Damara said as she took a seat on the questionable bench. She, too, stared around the cathedral as though imagining some grand idea. "This place could easily hold a hundred young ones. Even more if we don't have them flying all at once. Would we keep the dragons here the whole time?"
Dragons? Rib stiffened. Is that what they're planning for? A place to train pupils like Zheal did Memory?
"Might be the best option," Zheal answered. "You like the idea, then? You think it could work?"
No, it's terrible! You can't keep a hundred little ones trapped in here!
Damara leaned back. "It's like you said. Perfect."
Zheal's smile grew wider. "Which reminds me," he began, sitting himself down close to face her. "There's something else I've been thinking about since you've come."
What? What else?
Seemingly all at once, it began pouring. Rib didn't remember it looking like stormy weather outside, but now the shadows of rain streaked across the floor where light still lit through elongated windows. Across the room, Memory got up from among a pile of wooden planks and ran headlong into the storm with boundless delight.
Zheal stood again to go to the nearest window, peering out at the rain, his frame stark against the strange brightness of the outdoors. Damara met eye contact with Rib for the first time that day in a while, but he couldn't be sure of what she was thinking. Only, she looked wary.
Will he just talk already? Rib thought impatiently. What serious matter is he bringing up now?
"My uncle has been pressuring me to get a wife for some time," the Huskhn Heir finally spoke. "But never had I met anyone as worthy as you."
He must be kidding. Rib stared at the young man, who remained with his back to them. He's going to ask Damara to marry him?!
Rib saw how Damara swallowed and tucked her dress tighter around her legs. Her hands, she clasped firmly in her lap and fixed her eyes ahead of her.
; Now Zheal turned to look back at her.
"I know to someone as strong and as?capable as you, marriage may seem unnecessary." He crossed his arms and leaned against a pillar. "But there are advantages, I assure you. Considering you are not of royal blood, alone you can only gain power through struggle and strife, dependent on the magics you so skillfully craft. Ingredients will be hard to come by, beasts will be hard to find."
He paused, taking one glance at Damara before looking out the window again. Rib could see the Huskhn's breath as the air began to get colder.
"You deserve power, Damara," he murmured. "You may not have been born unto a king, but your every talent demands praise from the highest order."
This is bad, Rib fretted. Jacinth's locked away, Memory doesn't seem to want to escape- I didn't think anything could get worse, but now? Now Zheal wants to marry Damara! Poor Damara, what can she say?
Forgetting his act in the moment, Rib examined Damara's face freely. Her mouth was shut, but he could see her grinding her teeth behind sealed lips. Her brow furrowed, only slightly as she clearly fought to remain neutral. Resting on her thighs, her hands now clenched into fists.
She's distressed! Seeing her inner turmoil only increased Rib's fears. But how can I help her?
He was so focused on her, that he was caught by surprise when Zheal was suddenly back at the bench, his body language willing Damara to listen. The young woman started a bit in surprise as well, then slowly turned her head in his direction.
"I want to help you get what's rightfully yours, Damara," the Huskhn Heir said. "If you were to be my wife, how instantly that power would be yours! Among us, you would become as legendary as Tairg, the warrior queen of whom I named my very own steed after. Please, Damara. Marry me."
Marry him. He said it.
Rib felt as though time had frozen. All of life seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of Damara's response. Such complications Rib had never foreseen.
In that passing of unknown time, Damara turned her body to face Zheal, squared her shoulders, brushed a lock of hair from her face, and replied, "I see your point."
She sees his point? Rib took a short breath in overwhelmed perplexity. What does she mean?
"You?" Zheal appeared just as confused as Rib. "You accept, then?"
Damara got up and went to a column, her fingers brushing its ancient smooth surface. She seemed to have gathered herself in a split second, head high as she took the moment to think. Then, facing the young man with a noble-like air, she answered, "I feel this decision is poorly timed. Would it not be wiser to wait on marriage until after we've conquered the island of dragons? How much greater your people would rejoice at our union when they saw the victory we together secured, the promise that runs in your blood and mine."
How does she do it? Rib dared to breathe fully again. Is it enough?
Realizing his interest in the conversation was too obvious, he forced himself to lie down, only watching Zheal through the corner of his eye. The young man sat slowly on the bench, his hands planted on either side of him.
"Yes, you're right," he exhaled, sounding as though mystified. "I suppose I didn't consider the timing of the matter. But you're right, Damara. After our triumph at the dragons' island, the people will be crying to the gods for our union."
She's convinced him! Now it will never happen. Rib stared out the window at the rain, wondering at the narrow escape Damara had just cunningly performed.
. . .
Rib moved through the flooded marble hall of his dreams. He found that his wings were of no hindrance to his swimming, and he took full advantage of it, twisting about and flicking his tail to propel himself forward.
The pillars around him were of a sea green and they swayed back and forth, pushed by the current that swept through. From between two columns that overlapped in his point of view, Rib was thrilled to see his sister appear, walking along the floor. She was looking around at everything as though perplexed, until her eyes met Rib's.
Memory, he called her to join him and swam a little closer.
With intent gaze set on him, she gave a small push off the ground and began floating up to meet him.
But no sooner had all four sets of her claws left the floor did Zheal, in the form of a frightening sea creature, come shooting forward.
Memory! Rib cried, watching as his sister was caught in a tangle of the monster's tentacles and dragged back down to the bottom. When the dragon's feet were planted back down on the floor, Zheal unwrapped himself and turned into his human form. With a smile, he patted Memory on the neck and swam away.
Come on, Rib urged his sister to follow, but she stared dejectedly at the ground and did not seem to hear him. Memory?
The entire hall quaked with a distant roar and Rib awoke with a start.
The fire in the room he shared with Damara had gone out, with only a few embers to make the dark room glow orange. He could still hear the roaring over the sound of the ocean waves.
Jacinth, he realized, stiffening. She must be going mad again.
It lasted for a short while and Rib peered at Damara, surprised that she wasn't awakened by the distant raucous. She was usually a light sleeper.
She's dreaming, he thought as she gripped the fur bedding in one of her fists. Her expression looked vexed, with her brow creased and eyes closed tight. A nightmare?
Rib was so curious about what Damara was dreaming that he barely noticed when Jacinth's roaring died out. In time, the young woman relaxed, but her face crumpled in sadness and a tear slipped out from under her lashes.
"I'm sorry, Xander," she whimpered. "I tried."
Tried what? Rib slowly let his head back down to the ground.
Damara didn't look so upset now, but Rib felt as though he'd just glimpsed a whole other side of her.
She'd hate it if I told her, he knew.
I guess I'll never know what she was dreaming.
. . .
"Damara?"
A knock sounded on the door.
Rib watched as the young woman started awake and sat up in bed, her breath visible in the brisk morning air. He himself stood and dipped down for a stretch, forelimbs splayed before him, then straightened to move his long neck around, loosening it.
"One moment," Damara spoke, hastening to fasten the belt Huskhns had given her around her waist. It now held Gavin's dagger, which she was always sure to keep close.
Throwing pelts and blankets back over her bed as though to make it look like she hadn't slept at all, Damara smoothed down her dress, and finally opened the door.
There stood Zheal in a sharp outfit lined with blotted fleece. Rib had noticed the Huskhn seemed to have a liking for blemished white. Why, he had no idea.
"Good morning." Zheal cleared his throat. "My uncle invited us to breakfast to discuss preparations, but I think first you should come to the gaol."
Jacinth! Rib remembered her roaring in the distance last night. Is she alright?
"Rib." Damara jerked her head towards the doorway. "Come."
Silently he obeyed, following out the room and down the hall.
Could Jacinth have escaped without our help?
Rib observed the way that Zheal walked through the town with Damara.
No. He'd be frantic if that were the case.
But how are we supposed to get her out? And when?
Memory alighted beside Rib as he walked, purring and nuzzling him in her usual greeting. He looked at her warily.
How can I get you to come with us? You answer Zheal's every call.
"The servants finished pounding our gull bones," Rib heard the Huskhn tell Damara when the passed the place they'd been crafting magic yesterday. "I made sure they kept our powder separate."
"Good," Damara replied.
At least that's one thing, Rib thought. All we have to do is bewitch the sea serpent again and we'll have our ride to Wystil.
Memory snapped playfully at a beetle that came flying towards Rib, ne
arly stumbling him as she pounced on it in front of him.
And if we have to do the same to her, then?Rib sighed to himself. Then so be it.
He envisioned what it would look like, his sister following Damara around, devoted, without a thought. He still didn't particularly like it. But it was sure to block Zheal's command out of her head.
As they approached the gaol, he realized they could even use the powder on Jacinth.
Wouldn't that stop her from going mad and attacking us? That's what we were going to do to Wycker before we found him dead.
Rib's hopes lifted a little. Maybe this will be easier than I imagined.
Suddenly, Damara gasped and ran to the gaol window, gripping its metal grate. Zheal came up next to her, a hand on her shoulder.
What is it? Rib thought, alarmed. He noticed fewer guards surrounded the building now as he peered in.
No.
The inside of the stone cell was scorched black, the floor scored and scuffed.
Lying to the side was Jacinth, head, limbs, and tail tucked in. Her skeleton wings looked like the leafless branches of winter, her body looked as cold as stone.
She?
Rib stared through his inner eyelids and saw that all magics had stilled inside her, the firesap seeping out like vapor to dissipate into thin air.
She's dead.
It took all his willpower to not stagger on all four. He mustn't respond. Mustn't show one hint of horror or grief.
Jacinth?the last firebreather?dead.
In front of him, Damara's shoulders began shaking and Zheal's hand tightened reassuringly over them. She sank to her knees, letting her forehead rest against the stone wall with a muted sob.
It's over, Rib knew. We can't help the Wystilians.
Our potion book?the firesap cure for Jacinth?they're useless.
There's no one we can save now but ourselves.
Zheal stood idly as Memory drew closer to the weeping young woman, eyes soft with childlike concern.
"The firesap took her last night," the Huskhn told Damara. "I'm sorry. I know you worked hard for her."
He knows nothing, Rib thought. Jacinth?she was a friend.
Pulling something small from his vest, Zheal said, "For months I've been asking for this item." He crouched down beside Damara and touched her back gently. "But now that I have it, I can only think to give it to you."
What is it? Rib wondered.
In his palm was a small crystal pendant, reddish around the edges but glowing yellow and orange within. The chain attached to it dangled between Zheal's white gloved fingers, fine and coppery.
Damara barely turned her gaze at first, then stared at it in disbelief.
Rib peered through his inner eyelids to see what she was seeing. Trapped in the heart of the scarlet crystal was magical heat, pulsing as though alive. Rib had to stop himself from gasping as he recognized it.
Dragon fire!
"How?" Damara whispered, ever so lightly brushing the pendant with her fingertip. "What?"
"Kcrik," Zheal pronounced the item's name for her as he clasped the chain around her neck. "In your language, torchstone. I lit it with your firebreather's flame. Now you can craft magic wherever you like, so long as you have this."
That means?Rib swallowed, his throat dry. We can still save Wystil after all?
"Just strike it against rock and it will spark," Zheal said. "Have no worry of it shattering, or losing its flame. The torchstone can endure almost anything. It is, in essence, your own immortal firebreather."
Damara closed her hand around the little pendant and cried a laugh, or laughed a cry. Another tear dashed down her freckled face, and she bowed her head. Her lips bore an overwhelmed smile, but Rib could still detect grief in her eyes.
She loved Jacinth.
I never got the chance to really know her.
Memory pranced about in a sudden burst of energy as Zheal helped Damara to her feet.
Rib watched how the Huskhn grinned charmingly, thinking, You have no idea what you've just done. Now we can escape without a sound. Without a worry.
He stole another look into the gaol cell, renewed hope intermingling with sorrow.
And Jacinth's flame will still save lives, even though she won't be there to see it.
. . .
This feels wrong, Rib thought as a rope tied around Jacinth's body was attached to him. Damara secured the knot on his saddle strap with a hollow expression, only putting on a slight smile when Zheal joined them.
The Huskhn studied her face a moment. "You look just as I did when my horse died," he said, stroking her hair. "But soon we'll have more dragons than our ships can hold, just wait. You can have first pick."
Rib's hide nearly bristled at the promise and Damara quickly turned back to her knot-tying, eyes narrowing in on the rope that she roughly pulled tight.
Zheal took back his hand with a good-natured smile.
"Tairg," he spoke to Memory, who nosed Jacinth uneasily. Zheal took the end of a rope from Damara's grasp, saying, "Let my dragon help. She and Rib will be rid of this body in no time."
Rib clenched his jaw.
Be rid of? Jacinth deserves a proper burial.
Damara folded her arms and leaned against his chest plates.
"Tai," the Huskhn beckoned Memory, backing out the wide gaol door.
Rib tromped alongside his sister, inwardly grimacing as their ropes pulled taut and began to drag Jacinth's body behind them. Memory appeared confused at first, turning and tripping over her tether until Zheal barked an order at her.
Thankfully, hauling the dead dragon out of the building went smoothly and Rib marched on towards the shore where Damara gestured silently. Huskhns lined their course, watching.
Rib glanced back at Jacinth scraping a path in the ground as she was pulled. Mud mounted against her limp body, dirtying her deep red hide.
He faced the way he was going again, feeling sick at the disgrace.
Rib read the same emotion in Damara's eyes.
Down a dock, he and Memory dragged Jacinth, the sound of scales scraping against wood as they went. A number of muscular servants helped to load the dead dragon onto a boat before freeing Rib and Memory of their tethers.
Rib watched from the dock as the men rowed Jacinth far out over the ocean.
Farewell, he thought somberly when she was pushed into the water. It was distant, but Rib could see her body sink like a stone.
I'm sorry we couldn't help you too.
Chapter 26