Page 145 of A Dance of Water

Everything spun. Her body ached and trembled. She clawed at her throat, desperate to give in to the desire to take a breath—even knowing it would be her end.

Luella could not stop the basal need toinhale?—

Water rushed down her throat and choked her, filling her lungs with wet lies and false promises.

She gagged.

Only just conscious enough to feel the terror that flowed down the threads. To feel the strong hands that gripped her shoulders and pulled her free.

50

BREATHE BY ME

THAREN

Tharen hoisted Luella out of the lake. The cover of the clouds was so thick it could be night; the rain was barely a drizzle. And on the muddy bank, nestled between the treeline and the rippling, disturbed surface of the usually pristine water, he laid her down.

Her white hair was wet, and her lips were parted. Her white blouse clung to her pale skin, nearly translucent. Her chest was still—motionless.

Water dripped from his skin and splashed onto hers. Chaos consumed him, so different than the brief moment of peace he had found in the water as she had dragged him under.

Yelled words, fearful cries.

Azgorath fell to her side. The muzzle on his face had thin slits carved into it for breath, and through those lines, Tharen caught a vengeful snarl.

"Save her," Vale ordered. "Now!" The King did not kneel, nor did he stand too close. But the slightest of wavers lined his command as he watched.

Her limbs flopped uselessly as Azgorath held her.

Tharen wasted no time.

He threw a leg over her waist, straddling her as he pressed his hands to her chest and pumped.Once. Twice.

He pressed his palm to her nose, feeling nothing.

Pumped again, restarting her heart with his bare hands.

Tharen let his Body magic seep into her, flowing through her veins. He found her lungs, filled with water that sloshed with every rough movement of his hands.

Graves knelt. "She’s not breathing."

"Breathe, breathe," Bastian muttered, his pale hands tangling in the wet folds of her blouse. "Breathe."

Tharen cupped Luella’s cold cheeks and tipped her head up as he pinched her nose. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

She tasted of strawberries, and her lips held only the slightest tinge of warmth. Tharen let his breath flow into her, filling her lungs with air.

The rage and worry around him dissipated as he summoned his Spirit magic, his lips still pressed to hers.

He closed his eyes, only to open them and see another place. He knew that they would be shining a bright blue as he looked for her spirit.

The air shimmered around him in a sparkling mimicry of the forest and lake. As if from a distance, he saw himself. He saw the others, crowding around them with varying levels of anger and disbelief.

Finally, he saw her.

Luella stood, shivering and wet, her form almost translucent. Not her body—but her spirit.

Even now, the blindfold kept her from seeing him.

---