The Waterfall Traveler: Book 1

Chapter 3

The sun drenched the late afternoon sky in hues of gold and red. Beyond the perimeter of my village, a maple tree snaked her roots down a bank and into a pond. I seated myself on a grassy patch under the mottled shade of the tree and dipped my feet into the water. A refreshing chill scurried up my calves and spread through my body. I closed my eyes and burrowed my toes into the pond floor until mounds of sand rose up to my ankles. Ah, peace.

A twig snapped a few feet away. I flinched, shaken from my tranquil state.

I opened one eye, squinting from the sunlight. A slender woman draped in a white linen dress stood at the opposite side of the pond. She had a young, sculpted face with high eyebrows and cheekbones. I jerked my head in surprise, for I'd never seen anyone so graceful. With an elegant hand, she brushed an auburn curl off her shoulder and scooped some water into her palm.

"Water is Eisanea's gift." Her voice was serene as a babbling brook.

"Who are you?" I gaped at her.

She tipped her hand and contemplated the water drizzling out of her palm as if it was a stream of precious beads. "I am the mother."

"Whose mother?" I scanned the area for a wandering child.

"Ri? Can you hear me?" asked a male voice.

"Who's there?" Startled, I looked around, but saw no one.

"Pure goddess Eisanea," the man continued, "daughter of the sun and moon."

The hairs on my arms stood. I leapt to my feet and swiveled around, searching for the speaker. "Show yourself."

The woman stepped into the pond. She mumbled gibberish as she drifted deeper into the water.

"Share the water from your sacred well," the man said.

The woman's attention snapped to me as if I had made the request. Submerged up to her lower lip, she stood in the center of the pond and bared her teeth like a dog about to bite. The frightful expression sent chills crawling over my flesh.

"The sacred well is filled with dust and bones," she spat out the words.

I backed up a few steps. A cool sweat formed on my brow. With a gasp, the woman took a final step and vanished underwater. A couple of bubbles wiggled to the pond's surface. I waited a moment, expecting the tendrils of auburn hair to reappear. Two butterflies passed over the pond in leisurely flight, but the woman still hadn't come up for breath.

"Are you crazy?" I couldn't let her drown, so I clomped toward the center of the pond. Algae soft as unspun wool greeted my feet. "Where are you?"

She didn't answer, so I gulped down a breath and dunked my head underwater. Squinting, I looked in all directions, struggling to see through a cloud of disturbed sand.

"Ri, wake up," the man shouted.

I splashed to the water's surface, smacking my wet bangs out of my eyes. "Where are you? Stop playing games."

Something grabbed my ankles and I yelped. The woman stared at me from the bottom of the pond with her hands clasped around each of my legs. I froze like a panicked kitten in a thunderstorm.

"The sacred well is filled with dust and bones," she chanted. Her mouth expelled a cluster of bubbles as she spoke, but her words resonated clearly. "Dust and bones and dead men's screams and moans."

"Let go!" I bolted upright.

Cold. Dark. Dry. I patted my clothes to be sure. My shirt's fabric scratched my palms. I glanced at the thick threads in the weave, frayed and broken in random patches. The garment layered over my light linen clothing wasn't mine. Neither was the tattered blanket pooled around my waist. I had been sleeping on an unfamiliar straw mat.