Page 76 of The Crown of Moonlight
She twists, foam-flecked muscles rippling.The move knocks Chyr aside.He falls, and water closes above his head.
Someone screams—no,Iam screaming.
I search inside myself for calm, and I push an enormous wave of it at Eira.Even Then I’m not sure I can trust her not to move.
“Stay here, sweet girl.Don’t budge a hoof.I swear I’ll come back to get you.”
I run back along the trail I’ve built to save Chyr.But his head breaks the surface.He gasps, coughs, sucks in air, and swims a few strokes towards Bramble.
He glances back at me, wild-eyed defiance warring in his expression with something that looks like shame.“Help the mare,” he says.“I’m safe.”
He won’t be safe if he tries to pull himself up on anything that isn’t solid.But Bramble screams as water reaches her hindquarters.Her legs are mired too deep to move.
I send the last of my magic out beneath her, searching for anything solid I can use to firm the ground under her feet.
Wild magic swirls around me, an enormous living force that’s begging for me to use it.Only I don’t know how.I don’t know what to do.
Bramble screams again, the water nearly to the top of her hindquarters.Her front legs are almost floating while the bog drags her hind end under.
Panic washes through me, clogging my throat and wrapping around my heart like a cold, hard fist.
I ignore what my mind tells me—that the earth is too far under Bramble, that I can’t help her.I only know I must.Letting the wild force around me flow, I drag the ground up inch by inch.
Water churns and separates around Bramble’s hindquarters, and they finally break the surface.
She’s still flailing.I croon to her as I make a trail for myself back to the bit of solid ground where Chyr had stood beside her.
“Hush, lovely girl.Stay quiet, love.I’m here.”
I grasp her bridle and lay my other hand on her neck in reassurance.I’ve no calm inside me to give her, and the ember of Siorai magic is cooling.I reach for the Veilstone and pull.The ring warms in my bodice, but not nearly enough.I give Bramble everything that I have left.
Chyr is still in the water, but he isn’t sinking.
I stroke Bramble’s nose and scratch at the spot she likes beneath her mane.At the same time, I keep building up the ground beneath her.
Water and flecks of peat sluice off her flanks.Her struggles weaken.I count her breaths against my own until she’s steady, until I can see her hocks rising, then her knees and ankles sluicing water.
When she’s free, I nudge her backwards.Her muscles bunch.Pushing back against the muck is easier than trying to pull herself free.I get her back to the solid footing of the path I made earlier.
I take a closer look at Chyr.I want to be angry when I see him.
Mainly, I just feel relief.
All of this, Chyr coming after me, putting Bramble in danger—all of that is down to me not having had the courage to face my shame.To face him.To trust him.
“Stand, Bramble.”I leave her with a last pat on the shoulder.
Testing every step, I retrace my path to where Chyr has pulled himself up to his elbows.
The ground rolls from under him when he tries to climb up.He clasps the hand I offer him, his palm wet and slippery.He puts one foot on the path as I pull, but I’m doing little more than steadying him.
He pauses with his hands on his knees, his shoulders shaking.He’s soaked and shivering.His breath comes in ragged gusts, his entire body trembling with effort.I can’t help remembering when his wound was bleeding, and I was afraid that he would die.
That’s not true anymore.The force of him, the magic that rolls through him and crackles along his skin…A shudder rocks me as he straightens.His eyes burn gold, boring into mine.
“Why did you run from me?”he asks.
Is it hurt or anger that fuels the question?I can’t tell.Maybe both.I don’t know the answer.There are so many reasons, and I want to admit to none of them.Yet my cowardice doesn’t excuse me from telling him the truth.
