Who wouldn’t be a little reluctant to cross an eerie river into an all but forgotten city where anything could be lurking? I am, though I’m certainly not going to admit that out loud.
There’s no backing out now, not when we’ve come this far. “Positive.”
My wings twitch at my back, eager for flight, yet we’re bound by the need to adhere to the map’s cryptic guidance.
Kaida snorts in rumbling discontent as he casts a meaningful glance toward the forest. His hunger and thirst rolls through me, along with his desire to hunt.
I nod, understanding his reluctance. After all, there’s not much he can do. He wouldn’t fit in the boat, and he can’t fly over to meet us.
“Leesa, Kaida can’t continue with us. He’s going wait for us here.”
“Give me just a minute.” Leesa pats the dragon on the neck before shimmying down his extended foreleg.
“Ready?” Once I step into the boat, the others begin to follow suit.
We settle into the creaking vessel.
With the weight of five people, all with heavy packs, I expect the boat to sink down into the river, yet the watercraft stays at the same level.
It barely even rocks as Leesa, the last one, climbs aboard. “Where are the oars?”
I start to look around just as the boat jerks forward, propelling us into the heart of the Red River without warning or consent. The ropes that held the boat are now curled around the posts of the dock as if they’ve resided there for decades.
Ziva help us.
Our little boat lurches forward into the river, pulled into the current by unseen forces.
ChapterEight
The ride across the river is eerily silent. Agnar and Blair have their hands on their sword hilts, as if waiting for an attack. Leesa fingers the bowstring over her shoulder, but she doesn’t draw it.
In the surrounding waters, shadows slink and shift, resembling large fish. Except no fish I’ve ever seen is shaped like that. They swell and shrink, moving side to side as if swimming.
For a moment, I can’t help but worry that the drachen lurk below us. That the terrifying creatures are able to breathe underwater and have somehow led us on this mad quest.
In that case, weapons won’t help.
My fingers itch to let loose a fire corona—a solid loop of fire—over our heads. Though that might draw unnecessary attention.
But the figures never rise from the churning water. The silent threat never materializes into a strike. Somewhere downstream, a colossal splash echoes. The ripples brush against the hull of our boat, but nothing other than the water itself and empty riverbanks are visible.
Considering we now know the magic in the area can alter what we can see, that’s not very reassuring.
And yet, despite every single aspect of this trip being bizarre, threatening, and confusing, I’m not afraid. Confused and wary, yes. But that’s all. Somehow, though I can’t explain why, I know we’ll be all right.
That, or I’ve just gone batshit crazy.
I swallow down my urge to giggle. The last thing I need is to come across as hysterical. Around me, my companions stand, watching every angle as our propulsion-free boat gets closer to the far bank.
The vessel meets the ground as smoothly as it left the dock.
Relief sweeps through me as my boots finally sink into the soft mud. But that relief is short-lived, chased away by a fresh surge of anxiety. The fog’s thinning except in the closest areas where thick mist snakes between the trees, rendering all but the path directly ahead of us invisible.
When I step forward, the mist splits.
A gigantic iron gate looms before us. Its size is otherworldly and its purpose inscrutable as both doors hang open, the tops hidden in mist. It’s a shame Kaida wasn’t able to cross over with us. He would easily be able to pass through the gates, even with us fanned out on either side.
No moss covers this piece of architecture. No rust stains the enormous hinges that stand nearly as tall as I do. Statues of large obsidian cats flank the gate, their predatory forms poised and regal. Spotting the same sculptures on this side of the river relaxes my muscles.