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Percy tossed his bag into the middle of the wood first. The glass jars inside clinked loudly together and the raft itself swayed from the movement. His friend’s excitement only dimmed momentarily as he shot both Remis and Merritt a dark look.
“If this fails and my book is damaged, just know, I’ll be absolutely furious.”
Remis expected nothing else from Percy. Both he and Merritt knew better than to laugh, though it was hard to fight the urge to smile. They made it this far; perhaps the three of them could make it through anything together. With Percy’s brains, Merritt’s unwavering hope, and Remis’…well, he’d have to think on what his strengths might be because so far all he’d been good at was getting them into sticky situations.
One last narrowed look was pointed at Remis and Merritt before Percy clambered onto their makeshift boat. Water sloshed at the edges. The raft dipped with his weight and promptly bounced back above the surface. An echo of Percy’s triumphant shout bounced through the trees sending birds into flight.
Gaze centered on Percy’s pack, Merritt pulled himself onto the raft, quickly dragging his feet from the water and freezing the moment he was fully on board. The skin on Percy’s knuckles was pulled taut and pale as he gripped the tree limbs underneath him. The wood bobbed. Their raft righted.
It was his turn next. His stomach filled with knots. If this didn’t work they’d be out of options and stuck an hour outside of the city. He’d messed everything up so far and had been the entire reason for every terrible situation they’d endured. He didn't want to be the person who weighed too much and sank the whole damn thing. Not to mention the wrath of Percy that would befall him if the book was ruined.
He was torn between jumping on as quickly as he could or going at an excruciatingly slow pace. Getting dunked in this water would be unbearable should he fail, like a thousand knives being plunged all over his body. More cold sweat beaded on his neck as he tried to find some middle ground and pulled himself up. His weight rocked the entire thing. His heart lurched up into his throat. Everything settled.
Remis stayed still, caught in a position somewhere between sitting and lying down.
Then they were floating, the raft gently following the river’s current.
“Fuck yes,” Merritt whispered.
They each took turns adjusting how they sat, letting their movements play out over the top of the water before settling again. The sun beat down on them, shining off the river’s surface, and warmed their skin despite the winter air. What wind there had been died down and left the three of them to float along with the flow of the river.
Remis found it was easier to breathe now that they’d successfully gotten on board. The worry that held his lungs in its tight fist had loosened. Now all he had to do was connect to nature’s magic. That same giddy thrill rushed through him that was always present when he practiced the art.
“Do you need anything?” Merritt asked.
Remis shook his head. “Just silence.” He crossed his legs in front of him, closed his eyes, and let his conscious drift toward that ever-present pull. The steady stream of water below them was an extension of him, familiar as the rush of blood through his veins.
Using magic was much the same as using one of his own limbs. It was a clumsy effort as though he was a child learning to walk and make small exact motions with his fingers. That’s partially why schooling was so important to him. He wanted to do as the great mages could. It needed to be as simple and easy as breathing, done naturally without thought.
He followed that extension of himself into the depths of the rivers. There, he could feel the brush of life within the currents. Fish swimming along brushed against his mental bond and the finer movements of beetles skimmed against the surface. Plants held firm to rocks and the muck they’d been able to root themselves to.
Remis called the water to bend to his will to find the raft that coasted along and guide it forward. The urgency that had settled in his bones was impressed upon the river, calling the ebb and flow to gradually gain speed.
Wind ruffled the hair he’d already pushed from his face. A dark strand curled over his forehead, and he ignored it as the handmade vessel moved at an almost impressive speed.
Breathing was somehow easier when he connected himself to the magic of this world. What worries bound him to his body lessened as he became one with his surroundings. Here he could forget about the dark shadow when they’d fled the warlord’s home. He could forget about the mark that scarred his palm.
The three men aboard their raft moved in silence down the Mitus River and watched as the sun crept closer and closer to the horizon. For when darkness came, so would the dragonis.
15
Meira
His large hands cupped her face and moved into her hair, gripping, and pulling her closer. The salty scent of sweat hung in the air between them, the music calling their bodies to sway together. To their left, a bonfire flickered, its height reaching overhead and the heat easily warming the circle of trees that surrounded them.
Meira’s body felt lighter than it ever had before and the alcohol running through her veins made being near him so easy. There wasn’t some piece of her that wanted to hurt him right now, no fraction of her soul that demanded she fulfill the curse. They were just two people swaying together underneath the moon.
Other couples danced to the steadily plucked rhythm from the man who lounged on the forest's edge amongst a patch of clover. Meira hardly noticed them, not when the man in her arms was tilting her face up to his, his mouth hovering over hers as he let out a slow breath. He smelled of the sweet berries from the witch’s wine and that only made her sway as if his breath alone was getting her drunk.
She didn’t like to admit it, but she’d thought about what it would be like to kiss him from the moment she’d met him. Now that his lips were so close, he hesitated, a question waiting to be answered. In response, she stretched up on her toes and pressed herself desperately against every part of him.
Remis kissed her with the fervor of a starved man. He held her tighter, refusing any space that could come between them as his tongue darted out and parted her lips. A groan vibrated in his chest as she opened for him. The taste of wine was even sweeter than the scent.
The tangle of his hands in her hair slowly slid down her body. His touch traced her curves, pausing only to grip her waist tightly before continuing down to her backside. Meira savored the warmth of his wide hands against her, lifting her leg to hook around his hip. A hard length pressed against her core. His want. As incredibly powerful as hers was.
Then it didn’t matter if there was anyone around because they were stumbling for the darkness of the treeline, a mess of scrambling hands ripping at their shirts, until her chest was covered in nothing more than a strip of cloth and her bare back was being pressed into the trees.
His kisses trailed down the length of her throat as she arched against him. The scrape of his teeth sent a thrill down her spine that only dampened the space between her legs. Damn it all, she wanted him. Her entire being was ablaze with the need.
