|
Excerpt:
"Allysian!"
Digan yelled, running forward. He skidded to a stop at the lip of
a sudden drop. A muddy stream rushed by some three feet below him,
almost invisible in the dark. "Allysian! Answer me!" He could not
control the tinge of panic in his voice.
The
water swept by him with terrifying speed, and he could make out
only vague dark shapes bobbing in the current. Whether or not the
princess was one of them was impossible to tell.
"Digan!
Help--" The high, thin cry ended in an abrupt watery gurgle, and
Mordigan fairly flew down the slippery bank.
He
slid into the water with a splash, losing his footing and submerging
in the icy stream. When he fought his way back to the surface, he
thrashed clumsily to stay afloat.
Where
is she? Oh, great Hathor, where is she?
The
night was black beneath the roiling storm clouds, and the slashing
curtain of rain further obscured his sight. He lost track of which
way was the nearer bank. The stream could not be more than ten or
twelve feet wide, but he could not get enough purchase on the slick
bottom to stand, and he was a poor swimmer at best. "Allysian!"
he cried out, fighting to keep his head above the water, "where
are you?" His voice cracked in panic.
"Here....Digan...I
can't--"
He
dove toward the sound of her voice, and made out the pale gleam
of her hair as it sank beneath the raging torrent.
By
all that's holy, why must I earn only ill fortune? Can I have one
bit of good luck? Please, Hathor!
He
lunged, grabbed a handful of sodden cloak, and hauled upward.
Allysian's
head broke the surface with a sputtering gasp, and she clung to
him like a leech. Her panicked strength shoved him beneath the water
without warning, and Digan gulped in a large quantity of filthy
water.
His
lungs were on fire as he fought to get his head above water level.
The soggy velvet tunic was like a shirt of chainmail as it soaked
up more and more of the stream, and tugged him deeper beneath the
surface. He couldn't struggle free of the garment because Allysian's
legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, both hands tangled in
his hair.
|