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"Enough!" Munro snarls. "You're both ruddy geniuses. Can we skip the annual meeting of the Mutual Admiration Society? Or would you two like to have a poke right here in front of me?" His irritation melts into a devilish smirk. "Though I might not mind watching Ashley take her kit off to enjoy some solo—"
"Haud yer wheesht," I say. "Or I'll leave you here while we take the raft downriver."
Ashley sighs. "Are you two done harassing each other? I really do need your input, Errol."
"I'm always ready to assist you,gràidh. How can I help?"
"Look at this." She points to the Ellsworth map and several squiggles on it. "If I'm right and these lines represent rapids, then we should expect four sets of rapids, with the last one situated alongside a pyramid-shaped cliff. There's a canyon beside the pyramid formation, which also coincides with the map. So does the rapid just after the canyon. But I don't think the pyramid is the location of the cavern. It's just a landmark."
"I didn't notice a pyramid on the map."
"Neither did I at first. But when I compared the map to the satellite images, there was a definite similarity between this section of cliffs on the map and the pyramid formation in the satellite data."
"I do see what you mean now. The map shows that bit of the cliffs as having a sharper peak and what seems like squared off sides." I slant in for a closer look. "According to the map, we should look out for a dark blob near the base of the cliffs, about a mile past Zoroaster Canyon."
"A blob?" Munro says with a chuckle. "Aye, that's exactly the sort of directions we needed—look for the blob."
"I bet it's a boulder," Ashley says. "It's not attached to the cliffs. It looks like it's in the water."
"You know there are mountains with Egyptian names in the Grand Canyon," I say. "Shouldn't we look there?"
"Those are too far from the river. I still believe we need to search here. And it's too on-the-nose for the map to direct us to the Egyptian-themed landmarks. Everybody would look there." She tucks the map into her backpack. "We're going to Cremation Creek."
"Zoroaster Canyon was named after an Iranian prophet, so we still have the 'oriental' connection. Victorian explorers used the word oriental to mean anything in the Middle East or Far East."
"Good point." She picks up her pack. "Come on, boys, let's not dawdle anymore. Get your asses moving."
Munro lifts one brow. "If you weren't so bonnie, I'd complain about a woman ordering me to move my erse."
"I wouldn't," I tell him, while wagging my eyebrows at the lass. "Ashley can order me to do anything she wants."
Munro groans and grabs his pack, then leads us back to the raft. Soon, we're on our way again, with Ashley in the back and Munro and me in front. We have about two miles until the next rapid. Ashley spends that time surveying the cliffs and even taking some photographs. She snaps a picture of me when I turn halfway toward her to check on the lass. Then she blows me a kiss.
No, I am not worried anymore that she prefers Munro.
Though the next two rapids are both class seven, we get through Sockdolager without any serious problems. Munro and I need to paddle harder and take care not to let the wild currents sweep us away. But Ashley loves the ride, especially when a wave crashes onto us. She falls off her seat but remains inside the raft, and she laughs with so much joy that I want to kiss her.
I always want to kiss Ashley, though. She is very kissable.
Despite knowing a trip down the Colorado River would involve some danger, I hadn't anticipated how that risk would affect me. I don't fear for my own safety, though. I worry about Ashley. I'd gone on a few river rafting trips before this, as part of my job, but she's a novice. The thought of anything happening to her makes my throat thicken and my heart pound. My mouth has gone dry too. It's done that every time we crossed into a section of rapid, but more so when we're navigating rapids with a higher class rating. I'd enjoyed the lesser rapids with her, but class seven has me on edge.
My adventure with Magnus and Piper had involved plenty of danger, but I hadn't worried this much about either of them. Piper had managed to evade the authorities for almost two years, and she evaded Magnus too. The three of us put ourselves in mortal danger, more than once, but still I didn't get anxious about that. Yet with Ashley, I can't stop worrying. But I need to concentrate on the rapids ahead of us. That means I must forget about the lass, at least for a while. Just long enough to get us through the rough water and back to safety. Well, relative safety. With Munro taking the lead, all I need to do is follow his orders and stay calm.
Shortly after Sockdolager Rapid, the river turns muddy and we enter the next challenge, Grapevine Rapid. Our raft gets slammed by big waves that crash over the three of us. Munro and I struggle to keep the raft heading in the right direction, but I can't stop myself from glancing back at Ashley repeatedly to make sure she's all right. She did fall off her seat in the midst of the previous rapid. This one seems more turbulent.
"Let's shoot the rapid," Munro hollers. "Ashley, move into the middle of the raft at the rear. We need to keep this thing balanced."
"Shouldn't I paddle too?" she asks. "Since this is a more difficult rapid."
"Normally, yes," I say. "But with only three of us, you might destabilize the raft. That almost happened at Sockdolager. So just hold on and let us do the work."
"These rapids don't seem deep," Munro says. He looks back at Ashley. "Donnae worry. We've both done this before."
Aye, I have done this before—three times. And none of those occasions happened on the Colorado River. I'd navigated easy rapids on smaller rivers. But I give Ashley an encouraging smile.
Then we dive into the maelstrom.
We paddle hard, fighting against the churning water, in a motion reminiscent of digging. We hit a rough patch, and the raft bounces. Ashley yelps, but when I risk a glance backward, I see she's grinning. The lass enjoys a ride through Grapevine Rapid, despite the muddy brown water that smacks into the raft.
