the ceremonial sash about his waist and wound them once
about his wrists. “Now I am the tiger hunter,” she joked and
pressed against him harder, kissing his mouth, then his chin,
his throat.
Goldmoon had never before sensed so much buming
warmth within her body. The dank cavern no longer felt
chill, but Riverwind suddenly struggled free of the sash and
held her away from him. “This hunt must end,” he gasped.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, frightened by the way his
whole frame shuddered.
The warrior took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Calmer, he stroked her cheek with his forefinger. “We will
change many of our people’s ways,” he explained, “yet there
are some customs which we ought still to follow. I have yet
to ask your father’s permission to court you.”
Goldmoon tapped her foot in annoyance. “I suspect that
I might change more customs than you, if I have my way,”
she retorted.
“Is the honor of marriage vows so worthless a thing to
wait for?” he asked.
“No, but Father might not agree,” Goldmoon said
tightly.
“He cannot deny me,” Riverwind pointed out, “if I go
on a courting quest.”
She gave a sly grin. “The look on Arrowthorn’s face
will be worth seeing.” More seriously she added, “I will
wait for you, Riverwind, however long it takes.” She
sighed. “Though I do not think the waiting will be easy.”
“And now,” Riverwind said firmly, “we must find the
way out!”
“What’s that?” asked Riverwind, tilting his head to hear
as they walked along by the light of the fire-beetle lantern.
“It sounds like water running,” Goldmoon replied,
listening. She licked her dry lips. “We can fill our
waterskins, at least.”
“Better yet,” said Riverwind, “it is probably an
underground stream that may lead us to the surface and out
of here if we follow it!”
Hope rising in their hearts, the two hurried toward the
source of the sound and came upon a swiftly flowing,
underground river.
“Crow’s luck!” Goldmoon snapped with annoyance as
the strong current tore her waterskin from her grasp.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” Riverwind offered, stepping
into the water to reach after the bag.
“No, Riverwind. The water’s too swift. Leave it,”
Goldmoon ordered.
But Riverwind took another step, then slipped on
something underfoot, and plunged forward with a cry. He
tried to swim back to the bank, but despite his efforts, the
current dragged him off into the darkness.
“Riverwind!” Goldmoon screamed. She stood up and,
in her haste, knocked over the lantern. The lid fell off and
the fire beetles skittered out and away from the water.
Echoes of her call rang through the cavern, mocking
her. Absolutely alone in the pitch-black, unfamiliar cave,
Chieftain’s Daughter stood frozen with terror.
“I’ve got to go after Riverwind! What if he’s hurt? But
do I dare?” she whispered, her fear of drowning pulling her
back from the water as strongly as her love for Riverwind
pulled her toward it.
Suddenly Goldmoon laughed grimly. “Of course I
dare,” she cried out. Tearsong had told her to sacrifice that
which hindered her daring – her fear.
The princess unfastened the clasp to her fur cloak and
let it fall to the ground. Taking a deep breath, she dove into
the water toward the spot where Riverwind had
disappeared.
The cold of the water was a painful shock. Goldmoon
tried to surface immediately, but the weight of her long
dress hindered her and the undercurrent held her in its
clutches. Her lungs were ready to burst.
That’s it, she thought. I’m going to drown. Let it be
quick, without pain, she prayed. She began to feel numb all
over.
But with a last burst of energy, Goldmoon kicked her
legs hard, driving her up into the small pocket of air
between the deep water and the top of the cavern.
Her respite was short-lived. A deep thrumming filled
the air all about her. A waterfall, she realized, and she was
being carried straight toward it!
Light blinded Goldmoon’s eyes, and for a moment, as
she shot over the edge of the waterfall, she felt as though
she were a hawk hanging over the world. Then she plunged.