Page 68 of The Bleak Beginning

Carefully, I stand back up in the small boat, my legs shaking as I try to maintain my balance. I raise the paddle above my head, using the flat end to try to hook the strap of my bag. The first attempt misses, causing the canoe to rock dangerously, and I curse in response. I steady myself, taking another deep breath before trying again.

This time, I manage to catch the strap, and I have to bite back my cry of triumph.Yes!My heart leaps with excitement, but I force myself to stay focused. Slowly, carefully, I begin to pull the bag down.

Almost… Almost…

Just as I feel the weight of the bag start to shift, a sudden gust of wind rocks me. I lose my balance, arms pinwheeling wildly as I try to stay upright. The paddle slips from my grasp, hitting the water with a loud splash. My bag tumbles loose, falling into the base of the canoe in the same moment.

I shift to regain my footing, but my heart sinks as I watch the paddle drift away. I look down at my feet—at least I got my bag back, but now there’s another issue.

For a moment, all I hear is the gentle lapping of water against the canoe.

I stare intently at the distant shoreline, which feels impossibly far away. Swimming back isn’t an option. Without a paddle, I’m basically stranded out here. Panic floods through me. I crouch down, trying to make myself as small as possible.

I force myself to take deep, calming breaths. Panicking won’t help. I need to think logically, use what I have. My eyes fall on my bag. Maybe there’s something useful inside.

With trembling hands, I open the main compartment. My fingers brush against familiar items: a compact mirror, some snacks, a few pens and highlighters. Nothing that can serve as a makeshift paddle.

Dammit.

My eyes dart around the interior of the boat, searching for anything I can use as a temporary device to get back to shore. There’s nothing but my useless bag and the clothes on my back.

Wait. My clothes.

An idea starts to form in my mind. It’s crazy, but it might just work. I quickly shrug off my hoodie. If I can create some kind of sail, maybe I can use the evening breeze to my advantage.

I strip down to my shirt, laying my jacket on the bottom of the canoe. With unsteady hands, I start to tie the sleeves of my clothes to the gunwales, stretching the fabric taut between them. It’s not much, but it might catch enough wind to propel me slowly back to solid ground.

With the makeshift sail in place, I position myself carefully in the center of the canoe, gripping the sides tightly. I close my eyes, silently willing the wind to pick up.

“Please work,” I whisper to myself, to the wind, to the golden eagle perched atop Altair’s gate, to anyone who might be listening. For a moment, nothing happens. Then I feel a gentle push.

My eyes fly open. The canoe is moving! Slowly, achingly slowly, but definitely moving. Relief washes over me, and Icollapse in a fit of hysterical giggles. It’s official, I’m losing my mind.

I adjust my position, angling the jacket to catch more of the breeze. The canoe’s pace picks up slightly, and I can see the distant shoreline growing closer. My pulse quickens with a mixture of hope and fear. I was doing it, this was working.

Suddenly, a gust of wind catches my improvised sail, causing the canoe to lurch violently. I grip the sides, my knuckles turning white as I struggle to maintain balance. Water splashes over the edge, soaking my clothes.

“Stay calm,” I mutter to myself, willing my racing heart to slow. “You’re almost there. You’re doing great.”

The wind dies down as quickly as it came, leaving me bobbing gently, stuck at a standstill once more. Shit. I squint, trying to make out any shapes in the dark sky. I was so close, maybe twenty feet from being back onto solid ground.

A voice cuts through the night. “Need a hand?”

“I…yes,” I stammer, relief and wariness warring within me. “Yes, please.”

The figure moves closer to the water’s edge, and I can make out more detail now. It’s Atlas, my professor.Thank you, eagle at the gate, for sending help!

“Use this to tie up,” he says as a thump sounds, a thick mess of rope spilling around my feet. I secure it to my canoe.

“Ready?” he calls out.

I nod, forgetting he probably can’t see me clearly in the darkness. “Yes,” I reply, gripping both sides of the canoe.

With a grunt, he begins to pull. The rope goes taut, and I feel the canoe lurch forward. I was more than ready to be out of the water.

As the bottom of the canoe scrapes against the rocky shore, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My legs are shaky as I stand, but Atlas is there, offering his hand to help me out.

“That’s quite the creative solution you figured out there,” he says, nodding as he admires my makeshift sail.

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