As they pushed off rain began to fall heavily. Effie wished she had thought to save a blanket from the bedrolls, for her boiled-wool cloak was quickly soaked. If she turned around she could see the bedrolls— they were stowed beneath Waker's father's seat—but some kind of pride stopped her from asking for them. As they headed into the main river channel, Waker handed back a tin cup and told Effie to bail once the water covered her toes.
The water soon covered her toes. Thunder rolled from the south and the first of the big gusts hit the boat side-on. The long and narrow craft tipped wildly. Waker's father plunged his paddle deep into the water and turned in to the wind. Effie bailed, glad of something to do. The surface of the water was like a pincushion stuck with a million pins. The trees along the southern bank of the Wolf whipped back and forth as clusters of pine needles spun free. Directly ahead of Effie, Chedd Limehouse paddled with real force. Rain ran down Effie's face and into the neck hole of her dress as she fell into the urgent rhythm of bailing.
The river was wide here, a league across without a single island to block the view. Wooded hills formed the southern shore, and to the north lay impenetrable tangles of hardwoods, pines and winter dead vines.
Waker's father had set them on a course that was a fraction short of due south and she thought his intent might be to sit out the storm on the southern shore. That seemed like a good idea. With the bow of the boat facing the wind the going was steadier, yet every once in a while a rogue gust would get under the curve of the hull and for an instant the boat would rise, vertical, from the water. Waker would immediately stand, swinging his weight forward and stamp down the hull.
Neither he nor his father seemed much perturbed. They were both working hard and concentrating, yet Effie could tell that paddling through high winds did not stretch them. Effie envied them their waterproof clothing. Even Chedd was faring better than she was, as his cloak was lined with fine doeskin.
Rain was making it difficult to see. The southern shore became a murky grayness of darkly moving trees. The river itself appeared to be widening, for even as they headed south the shore did not look to be getting much closer. More river just kept spooling out. Effie tried to remember the maps of the clanholds that Dagro Blackhail kept, rolled and cased, in his chief's chamber. As best she could recall the Wolf split into three separate rivers above Croser—or rather three separate rivers merged to form the Wolf. Effie was unsure of the correct phrasing, also unsure of the command names of the higher streams. Gray was south of here. She knew that.
"Chedd," she hissed, leaning forward. "Where are we going?"
Turning his head to look at her he said, "Don't know." His voice sounded a little weird. "I'm feeling a bit sick."
"Look at the water," Effie told him firmly. "Eyes ahead."
Chedd did just that. He had stopped paddling, she realized, and was bracing himself with a hand on each gunwale. His face was green.
Waker's father skipped a paddle stroke, allowing Waker's right stroke to steer the boat. The craft tuned a few degrees east, and Effie saw they were no longer heading ashore. Only river lay ahead.
Almost immediately the boat began pitching. The wind was hitting at an angle, yet also the river itself seemed to be pulling in a new way. Waker and his father settled into a rhythm of quick shallow strokes, not holding their paddles too long or too deep in the water. Brown foam rushed across the surface, and the wind sent it slapping against their faces. Effie reached for her lore. The stone felt sluggish and unsteady, half asleep. Dissatisfied, she let it drop against her chest.
Another wind gust got under the boat and the bow went up. Lightning forked on the south shore. Thunder exploded right on top of them. The boat rolled and pitched, suddenly unstable on both planes. Waker called out something to his father, and Waker's father set his paddle in the water and turned the boat due south.
Effie felt a moment of relief. Rain was coming down with force and no matter how much she bailed the water kept rising. The wind was head-on again; she could feel it flattening her cheeks. From the seat in front of her Chedd made a small noise. And then two things happened at once. A powerful gust got under the boat and Effie was knocked backward. As the bow came up so did Chedd, flinging his head and shoulders over the side. Oh no, he's throwing up, she thought with disgust as the the boat tipped slowly toward Chedd. Waker sent his weight snapping in the opposite direction but it was too late. Effie's bottom slid along the polished wood seat, and she hung for the briefest instant, parallel to the water, before plunging in.
The river seized her chest. It was shockingly cold and dark. A paddle whacked her chin. As she gasped in pain her lungs took in water. Where was the surface? Was she underneath the boat? Panicking, she began thrashing her arms. When she tried to move her legs her body jerked with such force it was as if the floor had been snatched from beneath her. The leg irons snapped with the jolt of a returning bowstring. Stilled by the concussion she began to sink. Now that she looked up she saw that yes, she had been under the boat. Its peapod shape was a receding darkness against the light.
She fell deeper, and began to understand that strange currents were at work. Three rivers met here. She could feel them spinning her body as they emptied her brain of thoughts.
Swoopy movements, she thought inanely, that's what you're supposed to do with your arms to swim.
One of the bedrolls she'd packed that morning floated past her face. Breathing, she took in more water. The boat had become a thin line and she could no longer remember why it was important. It grew dark, or perhaps she closed her eyes: the difference hardly seemed important.
It was all easy-peasey now.
Down she went into the Wolf's maw, deep into the cold brown water. There was only one little niggle that surprised her. Who would have thought that the very thing she had avoided all her life would be down here? The seeking malevolence was moving through the water to intercept her. It was forming itself into a pike; elongating, solidifying, glittering as it conjured scales. The malevolence swam with great assuredness and growing strength. It didn't just prowl the open spaces, it knew the dark depths as well.
It was a revelation. Inside, outside: it didn't matter where she was, it would find her wherever she was weak.
A small quiver of fear passed through her, moving up from her feet to her head. The pike was almost upon her. She could see its pearly, razored teeth.
Suddenly she was yanked up and sideways. The pike's jaw snapped closed. Something broke. Effie Sevrance was pulled the long distance to the surface. It felt as if she were being sucked from a tube.
Afterward she didn't remember much of the time that followed. Waker's jelly eyes loomed big as he worked her chest like a water pump. Waker's father actually said things. Proper words, helpful words. Chedd Limehouse shivered and looked afraid. He was told a dozen times to Sit down and hold your place.
Effie smelled the good scent of woodsmoke and slept. Waker roused her in the night, made her drink water she did tnot want and felt her hands and feet. "She's bone cold."
She realized she must have been dreaming then, for Waker's father actually said, "We must build a bigger fire."
Some time later in the orange glow of firelight, Waker's father's face appeared above her own. He had the sneaky, pleased-to-be-himself look in his eyes as he leaned close to her ear and whispered his real name. He knew she would not remember it tomorrow.
Morning came, and even though the sun shone in her face and she was swaddled in the best and thickest blankets she could not stop shivering. Waker's father brought her purple tea and insisted she drink though its temperature was close to scalding. It tasted like fat.
Chedd came over and knelt by her head. After looking both ways to check that no one was in earshot he told her what had happened and where they stood. "South shore of the Wolf, on land claimed by Morning Star. Last night we could see the lights of a village."