Page 29 of Tashama
“How? No one can swim.”
“Several men are on makeshift rafts as they hold lanterns close to the water.” He jogged down the steps after the prince.
“Is there no sign of her?” The prince waved at Carissian.
The sorcerer shook his head. “I found blood on the bottom step and this.” He lifted the fragment of sheer cloth up to the prince.
“Has it been verified that the cloth belonged to the lady?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Why was she not being watched? A lady was to stay with her in her room.”
“Princess Listra sought me as she grew concerned the prisoner didn’t know about the custom of her own people concerning the wearing of veils. She used unusual words, such as ‘unglued.’”
The prince stared at the black waters as the lantern light reflected off its surface. “Has she drowned, do you think?”
“If she tried to swim through the tunnel?—”
“You said she couldn’t swim…mortals cannot swim.”
“But if she did make it to the tunnel…” The sorcerer shook his head. “It’s just not possible.”
“Can you not tell where she is? You did once before.”
“I saw her in the shadows of the tree.” Carissian stared at the waters. “I cannot see her in the waters.”
“But there’s nowhere for her to go?—”
“A tunnel empties into Lake Curaca.”
Aleron motioned to his guard. “Get thirty men together. We ride to the lake at once.”
“She wouldn’t have made it, sire. The tunnel has air pockets to be sure, but she couldn’t swim. She’s just a mortal,” his sorcerer said.
The prince hurried to the stairs. “Are you so certain?”
“He comes for you, Tashama.”The water sprite fluttered in Tashama’s face.
“I hurt too much to move.”
“Then they win.”
“No.” Tashama sat. Horses’ hooves pounded against the earth, making it tremble beneath her legs, and she groaned as she stood. Then she walked stiffly toward the forest.
“You’ll never make it, Tashama.” The sprite dove into the water with a splash.
Tashama winced with every step she took, then reached the shadows of the forest as the fingers stretched out to her. She walked into their beckoning arms, and the voices renewed.
“Tashama, Tashama, Tashama,” the woodland sprites taunted in a whispered hush. “You’re back and they’re coming for you…again.”
“Shhh.” Tashama touched her temple as it throbbed. She walked deeper into the forest and shuddered as the horses snorted at the lake.
“There’s a small footprint over here—a woman’s, I would think, sire!” a man shouted from the beach.
“She was barefoot.” The prince studied the print.
“The beach is wet here—there’s an imprint of a figure in the sand, sire. She must have lain here for some time.”
