Tavi struggled and writhed, but it was useless against the soft, subtle strength of that grip. He could have wrestled her all day and never gained the upper hand, he knew: She was a watercrafter, like his aunt, and a strong one at that, and the waters of the river itself were being used against him.
Tavi stopped struggling, which made his assailant let out a soft, approving
murmur. Cold lips pressed against his ear. He was starting to grow dizzy, but his mind raced furiously. If she was a watercrafter like his aunt, then she would have the same problems Aunt Isana did. For all the advantages watercrafters enjoyed, they had to put up with more than almost any other craft, the disruption that their extra senses picked up from other people- emotions, impressions, feelings.
Tavi focused for a moment on his own helpless, fluttering fear, terror that made his heart race, stole the dregs of air remaining in his lungs ever more quickly away from him, brought him that much closer to drowning. He dwelt on that terror, let it build in him, and added to it the frustrations of the day, the despair and fury and hopelessness he had felt upon returning to Bernard-holt. Every emotion built on the next, and he fed them all with a frantic fury, until he could scarcely remember what his plan had been to begin with.
"What are you doing?" hissed the woman that held him, threads of uncertainty lacing through the throaty assurance of her voice. "Stop it. Sto-p it. You're too loud. I hate for it to be too loud!"
Tavi struggled uselessly against her, panic now overwhelming him in fact as well, blind and numbing fear blending in with all the other emotions. The woman let out a shriek and curled away from him, releasing him and wrapping her arms around her own head.
Tavi choked, his lungs expelling whatever was left in them as he struggled toward the surface. He only just managed to get his head out of water, to take a single deep, gasping breath, before the water itself bubbled up around him, sudden and enveloping, and dragged him back under.
"Clever boy," hissed the woman, and Tavi could see her now in the reflected light from the fires on the bank, a beautiful woman of dark hair and eyes, body lushly curved and inviting. "Very clever. So passionate. Now I can't hold you while you go. I wanted to do that much for you. But some people are never grateful." Water pressed about him, as strong and as heavy as leather bonds, pressure that shoved his limbs together, wrapped him up like a parcel of bread. Terrified, he struggled to hold on to that last breath for as long as he could.
The woman remained before him, eyes narrowed spitefully. "Foolish. I was going to give you the raptures. Now I think I'll just break that pretty neck." She flipped a wrist, the gesture dainty, but the water around Tavi suddenly slewed around his head and began twisting his jaw slowly to one side. Tavi struggled against it, but the water seemed just a little bit stronger than
he. The pressure on his neck swiftly built and became painful. The woman came closer, eyes round and bright, watching.
She didn't see the sudden motion in the water behind her, but Tavi saw his Aunt Isana's hand come out of the murk. One hand seized the woman by the hair, and the other raked abruptly across her eyes. Pink tinged the water, and the woman let out a sudden, piteous shriek. Isana appeared more fully, thrusting both hands toward the woman, palms out, and she suddenly flew through the water, and then up and out of it, as though hauled away by a giant hand.
As soon as the woman sailed up and out of the Rillwater, the pressure on Tavi's neck eased, and he found himself able to move his limbs. Isana moved to him, and together they broke the surface of the river, Tavi gasping and choking.
"My river," Isana snarled after the departed water witch. Isana called to Fade, who lunged through the water to Tavi. The slave drew one of Tavi's arms around his shoulders, holding the boy up and out of the water.
Tavi stared at his aunt's hand, where the nails seemed to have grown to twice their usual length, like shining-edged claws. Isana took note of his glance and gave her hand a shake, as though relaxing muscles cramped from sewing. Once, twice, and the nails appeared as they always had, practically short and neatly groomed-but stained with spots of blood. Tavi shivered.
"Get him to the far shore," Isana instructed. "There are two more out here, and matters aren't settled between Kord and Bernard as yet. Tavi, get through the woods. When the storm comes, you'll be safe for a time."
Bittan, bloody-mouthed, appeared on the shore. "You barren witch!" he howled at Isana. He gestured, and fire leapt toward them.
Isana rolled her eyes and flipped a hand toward Bittan. A wave rose to meet the flames, drowning them and continued forward to clutch at the young man's feet, washing them out from under him. He went down with a yelp, spluttering, and scrambled back away from the shore.
"Get through the woods," Isana continued. "Get to Aldoholt, by the lake. I'll have word to him by then, and he'll either get you to Gram or get Gram to you. He'll protect you until then. Do you understand, Tavi?"
"Yes, ma'am," Tavi gasped. "But-"
She leaned into him and pressed a kiss against his forehead. "I'm sorry, Tavi, so sorry. There's no time for questions now. You must trust me. I love you."
"I love you, too," Tavi said.
Isana turned her head, and the fires spreading on shore reflected in her eyes. "It's spreading. And the storm is nearly here. I have to call down Nereus, or Lilvia will whip those fires until they devour the Valley." She looked back to them and said, "Tavi, get away from the river. As far away as you can. Head uphill. Take Fade with you, and keep a close eye on him-I don't know what made you bring him along." She shot a glance past Tavi to the slave, who offered a witless smile to Isana and ducked his head.
She shook hers in response, kissed Tavi's head again, and said, "Go, quickly." And with that, she turned and vanished down into the waters of the river again.
Tavi swallowed and tried to help Fade, as the slave moved out of the river to the far side and up onto the shore. Tavi looked back as he moved out of the water.
Kord lay on the ground, curled onto his side, weakly struggling to get back to his feet. Bernard, his face bruised and his tunic torn, stood with Amara at the white rock of the ford, their backs to Tavi, facing the woods.
From the smoke and the shadows of the trees there limped a man, middle-aged, barefoot, and of innocuous height. He swept his eyes around the fire-lit stream and then focused on the two people standing at the ford, then past them. Tavi felt the man's eyes touch on him like cold, smooth stones, calmly weighing him, assessing him, dismissing him. The man lifted a hand, and Tavi heard the tree nearest him buck and tremble, and he turned in time to see it pitch forward toward him.
Bernard's head whipped around, and he raised a fist. As swiftly as the first, a second tree uprooted itself and toppled, landing hard against the first, so that the two fell against one another, each supporting the other from falling, while Tavi and Fade stood trembling in the arched space beneath them.
"Impressive," the man said. He focused on Bernard, and abruptly a wave of earth lashed out toward Tavi's uncle. Bernard planted his feet on the ground, teeth bared in a grimace, and a second wave rose in front of him, gathered momentum toward the stranger's attack. Bernard's efforts were evidently not enough. The ripple in the rock tore through his own efforts and ripped apart the ground he and Amara stood upon, sending them both toppling.
Tavi cried out, for even as his uncle fell, the stranger drew from beneath his cloak a short and heavily curved bow. He set an arrow to the string and