Page 84 of Starside

He steps into the lake and is gone in a moment. He swims effortlessly, even in his armor. I open my mouth. Close it.

Will he leave me? Will he decide the map isn’t worth this?

I won’t wait to find out. I look around, searching for anything to help me get across. That’s when I see a few trees. Some bark is hanging off. Bark is buoyant. I know that from the time it rained when I was five, and my father used a rare slice of it to make two small boats we raced in a puddle.

My hands grip its edges, sharp pieces digging into my skin, and I pull. It’s thick and tough. My teeth slide together, my shoes digging into the dirt as I tug, and tug, muscles straining. Slowly, it begins to come apart. I wince, my fingers slipping in my own blood as sharp wood pieces dig into them, but I don’t stop, the sound of the water diminishing as he gets farther and farther away. He could leave me. Especially now that I’ve given him the surrounding area of the map.

I take my sword, force it up with a groan, and hastily slice off the rest of the bark, then sprint toward the water, hands bleeding. Everything in me screams to stay on land, my lungs burning as if remembering how they filled with water, but I can’t hesitate. Not anymore.

I fling myself into the lake, the thick bark beneath me. And it floats. I kick wildly, eyes on the shore. The water is freezing, just like it was last night.

Last night. I remember the burn of my chest, the constricting. My body both fighting to stay alive and resigning itself to death.

He might be the most miserable person I’ve ever met, but Raker is right. My weaknesses will seal my fate during this journey. I have no choice but to overcome them. That’s the only way I’ll make it to the end of this.

Starting with getting to the other side of this lake.

If I slip off the bark, I’m dead. Raker won’t save me a second time. I don’t even hear him swimming anymore. No, the only thing cutting through the morning is my ragged breathing, my kicking legs, and the water sputtering around me.

If he left … I’ll be alone again. No dragon. No Kira and Zane.

I didn’t expect to have allies on my quest, and only now do I see how stupid that was. Did I really think I could make it across Starside alone? Yes. I did. I thought this rage in my chest and the years of training with Stellan would be enough to carry me through.

Now I understand why Stellan was so against me going. Now I understand why he was so afraid.

Find Vander Evren, he’d said. Who is that? And how am I supposed to find an immortal in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by challengers and immortals alike who would kill me for this sword on my back?

I kick harder, and the bark dips low, sending water spilling into my mouth. I spit it out, hoping Raker didn’t leave. Being with him is better than being alone.

It’s only halfway across that I see him, leaning against the cliffside, watching me struggle. His posture says unimpressed.

I grit my teeth and kick, eyes locked on him, refusing to let him see me fail, letting my stubbornness overpower my muscle cramps, until I wash roughly up on the shoreline. The rocks cut my fingers again, but pride fills me.

I made it. I figured it out.

Raker doesn’t seem too pleased about that fact as he turns around, like he wishes he could have watched me die.

We don’t speak. All I do is follow as Raker walks at a pace that means I have to half jog. His legs are far longer than mine. I race to keep up, already exhausted from crossing the water.

My sword is heavy on my back, but he carries his as if it’s almost weightless. The same with his armor. That is, I suppose, his training.

The king’s guard has unmatched training outposts and resources. They know how to build muscle and keep it. Stellan taught me everything he could, but my own instruction was nothing compared to Raker’s. My nails dig into my palms, remembering the one time I tried to get access to that training and where that got me.

My hatred of him has had years to simmer. How many nights have I fallen asleep, dreaming of gutting him with his own blade? Of being strong enough to hurt him at all?

I glare at his back, imagining a dozen swords buried in it.

That’s how I pass the time. Imagining the various ways I could kill him. I picture a thousand sparkling knives going through that armor. An ax chopping away that hood. A lance going into his chest.

My sword hums on my back, almost with approval. It makes me smile.

I’m definitely not smiling hours later when my legs feel like they’ve been reduced to clay, and my feet feel like they’ve decided to merge with my boots. Maybe working with Raker wasn’t the best idea.

He doesn’t take breaks. He never slows. His posture never slips. I might be impressed if I wasn’t in so much fucking pain.

I nearly whimper with relief when the sun dips toward the horizon and Raker begins to deviate from the path, toward the faint sound of rushing water. Finally.

As we get closer, that whispering water turns into a roaring. Then the forest clears, revealing a riverbank with white, foaming crests, streams of water hastily moving in various directions. There’s a small strip of land at the center of it.