Page 56 of Moonless

Okay, sounds easy enough.

“Aim low.”

I look at the fish coming around the bend.

“How low?”

“Below where you see it. The water makes it look higher.”

He steps back and leaves me to it. Below where I see it. Helpful.

I get the grip settled in my palm and lift it again. There’s a salmon coming along the edge of the fast water, and I pull to where he showed me and point below its back.

When I let go, the arrow hits the water behind it.

The fish bolts, kicking up gravel, and I’m still standing there with my fingers by my cheek when the water settles. I was looking right at it.

Rauk sits himself down on the log.

I put the bow down and haul the line in.

There’s another salmon coming, but I let that one go while I lay the cord out again. The next one comes in closer, and this time I draw while it’s still below me and follow it with the point.

The arrow goes over its back. Hmph.

Behind me, Rauk snorts.

I turn around with the bow hanging from my hand. He’s settled in on the log, elbows on his knees, one claw on the folded sack, well away from the work.

“What?”

“Lower.” One claw comes off the sack to point at the river.

“I aimed lower.”

“The fish was lower still.”

I stare at him. He’s sitting there comfortable, knees apart, all that arm doing nothing useful, and he’s smirking at me.

“You can get your own fish.”

He glances at the bow in my hand. “With that?”

Ugh. I turn back and haul the arrow in harder than I need to, and wet cord piles up around my feet.

Fine. Lower still.

I spread the line out and wipe my hand on his shirt. There’s a small salmon right under the bank, holding beside a flat stone, and by the time I’ve got the line sorted it’s gone off into the fast water.

I want one beside that stone.

Two go past farther out while I’m getting a loop of cord out from under my foot, and I leave them. The water’s deeper out there, and I haven’t managed the shallow bit yet.

My shoulder aches from holding the bow up, which is pathetic, so I rest its tip on the ground until it eases, rubbing the string marks on my fingers with my thumb.

Rauk shifts on the log behind me.

“There’s one.”