deep, booming cough as it launched itself, body flexing and
coiling, huge and monstrous as it descended. Wren and Garth
broke free of the raft as the beast struck, dragging Ellenroh and
Faun with them. Wren saw Gavilan dive, watched the others
scatter, and then the serpent struck and everything disappeared
in an explosion of water. The raft flew apart, hammered into
kindling. Wren went under, Faun clinging desperately to her.
She resurfaced, sputtering for air. Heads bobbed in the water,
waves generated by the attack washing over them. The serpent’s
head reared into the haze once more, but this time Triss and
Cort had hold of it, swords stabbing and hacking furiously.
Scales and dark blood flew, and the monster cried out in fury.
Its body thrashed in an effort to shake loose its attackers, and
then it dove. As it went under, Triss buried his sword in the
scaly head and broke away. Cort was still attacking, his youthful
face grimly set.
The serpent’s body convulsed, scattering everyone. Stray
logs from the shattered raft were sent spinning.
One flew at Wren and caught her a glancing blow along the
side of her head. She had a momentary vision of the serpent
diving, of Garth hauling Eowen toward the shore, and of Ellen-
roh and the Owl clinging to other stray bits of the raft, and then
everything went black.
She drifted, unfeeling, unfettered, numb to her soul. She
could tell that she was sinking, but she didn’t seem to be able
to do anything about it. She held her breath as the water closed
over her, then exhaled when she could hold it no longer and
felt the water rush in. She cried out soundlessly, her voice lost
to her. She could feel the weight of the Elfstones about her
neck; she could feel them begin to burn.
Then something caught hold of her and began to pull, some-
thing that fastened first on her tunic, then slipped down about
her body. A hand first, then an arm-she was in the grip of
another person. Slowly she began to ascend again.
She surfaced, sputtering and choking, struggling to breathe
as she coughed out the water in her lungs. Her rescuer was
behind her, pulling her to safety. She laid back weakly and did
not resist, still stunned from the blow and the near drowning.
She blinked away the water in her eyes and looked back across
the Rowen. It spread away in a choppy silver sheen, empty now
of everything but debris, the serpent disappeared. She could
hear voices calling-Eowen’s, the Owl’s, and one or two more.
She heard her own name called. Faun was no longer clinging to
her. What had become of Faun?
Then the shore came into view on either side, and her res-
cuer ceased swimming and stood up, hauling her up as well and
turning her about. She was face to face with Gavilan.
“Are you all right, Wren?” he asked breathlessly, worn from
the strain of hauling her. “Look at me.”
She did, and the anger she had felt toward him earlier faded
when she saw the look on his face. Concern and a trace of fear
were mirrored there, genuine and unforced.
She gripped his hand “It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” She took
a deep, welcome breath of air. “Thank you, Gavilan.”
He looked surprisingly uncomfortable. “I said I was here to
help you if you needed it, but I didn’t expect you to take me
up on my offer so soon.”
He helped her from the water to where Ellenroh was waiting
to fold her into her arms. She hugged Wren anxiously and whis-
pered something barely audible, words that didn’t need to be
heard to be understood. Garth was there as well, and the Owl,
drenched and sorry-looking, but unharmed. She saw most of
their supplies stacked at the water’s edge, soaked through but
salvaged. Eowen sat disheveled and worn beneath a tree where
Dal was looking after her.
“Faun!” she called, and immediately heard a chittering. She
looked out across the Rowen and saw the Tree Squeak clinging
to a bit of wood several dozen yards away. She charged back