The Draykon Series (1-3)

Chapter Twenty

   'You are a bundle of joy.' He inched across the raft until he lay directly behind her, his arms sliding around her waist. She found herself pulled close to him. Cold as he was, he still radiated some heat.

   'Sorry about this,' he said. 'Desperate measures.'

   'Don't get any ideas.'

   'I don't wish to ruin your dreams, but a violently shivering woman stinking of seaweed isn't my idea of the perfect romance.'

   She snorted. 'You're certainly no flatterer.'

   'An hour, you said?'

   'About that, yes.' She paused. 'Probably.'

   'Probably.' He sighed. 'I wonder if Vale knows we're down here.'

   'No. It's too soon,' she replied. 'What made you think of that?'

   'Oh, just wondering if Fin made it back to Westrarc yet.'

   'Thinking of Mrs. Geslin?'

   'Among other things.'

   She was silent for a moment, picturing the worn face of Edwae's mother, drawn with anxiety, surrounded by dependent children. She imagined Tren there, breaking the news to her, comforting her distress.

   'I think you made the right choice to come here, Tren.'

   'You fought pretty hard against it at the time.'

   'How far would you have got by yourself, do you suppose?'

   'Not far,' he admitted.

   'You'd probably be drowning right now.'

   'Steady. Mind the ego. I concede that you were perfectly right.'

   She smiled. 'We'll visit Mrs. Geslin on our way back to the city.'

   Tren sighed, pulling her a little closer. 'Who knows when that will be.'

   A miserable hour passed - maybe more, it was hard to tell in the Lowers - and the watery green light remained steady. Eva was forgetting what it felt like to be warm, dry and comfortable. Her stockings stuck damply to her icy legs; her skirts were a heavy, clinging mass weighing her down. Her hair had come loose from its bindings and lay over her neck like a mantle of ice. She was grateful to Tren for trying to warm her (and himself), but it was a largely ineffectual gesture.

   'I don't see this ocean miraculously disappearing,' Tren murmured against her neck.

   'Doesn't mean it won't, any minute now.'

   'It is not looking hopeful,' he replied. 'Let's make a deal. If it comes to it, you're to eat me for survival first. I have more meat on me.'

   'Raw, is that?'

   'Well, Lady Glostrum, if it's a matter of survival I expect you to make sacrifices.'

   'I'll make you a counter offer. If it comes to it, I'll eat one of your arms for survival, and you may have one of mine. Which would you prefer?'

   He considered for a moment. 'The left one, please. There's a shapeliness to the bicep that's very appealing.'

   'Done. Meanwhile, when the light changes the very first thing we'll do is make a fire. That's a promise.'

   'Great. Here's your chance.'

   Eva opened her eyes. The unsteady green light was indeed fading. They waited in silence as a yellowish glow built in the skies and the ocean began to churn. Eva's makeshift raft dipped and plunged on the choppy waters, and she nearly slid off into the sea; only Tren's grip on her waist prevented her descent. She clung grimly to the edge of the raft, ignoring the bite of the wood into the tender flesh of her hands. In another moment the sea abruptly disappeared. The now bone-dry raft lay marooned atop an expanse of white sand dotted with delicate objects resembling seashells, though Eva didn't think any living creature could conceivably make a home in these highly artistic creations.