The river grabs me and runs away with me.
For a few desperate seconds I manage to stay near the surface. Rain lashes my face and muddy water crashes into my mouth every time I try to breathe. The jungle flashes past on either side in a blur of dark trunks and green leaves.
Entire sections of riverbank continue collapsing into the flood, sending waves rolling across the current.
One of them hits me head-on and drives me under. I kick upward immediately, but the river has stopped behaving like water. It feels alive. Every time I think I've found the surface, another current catches me and spins me somewhere else.
My shoulder slams into a submerged branch. Something strikes my leg. By the time I break into open air again, my lungs are already burning.
For a moment I actually think I can survive this. People survive floods. They stay calm. They float. They swim. They keepbreathing until they reach safety. Then another surge crashes over me and drags me beneath the surface again.
The realization arrives slowly at first and then all at once. I can't control this. I'm not swimming anymore. I'm being carried.
The current tumbles me through brown darkness while the last of my air escapes my lungs. Somewhere above me the storm continues raging. Somewhere upstream Vyrathion is probably standing on the bank, annoyed at the weather and annoyed at me and annoyed at the entire planet.
A strange sadness settles over me. I never wanted to leave Earth. I never wanted to leave the village. And somehow, more than anything else, I don't want to leavehim.
The thought surprises me so much that I almost miss the hand closing around my arm. The grip is impossibly strong.
A moment later I'm hauled upward with enough force to make my shoulder ache, and I burst through the surface gasping for air. I cough river water from my lungs while clinging desperately to whatever rescued me.
"Honestly," Vyrathion growls beside me. "Breathing is among the simplest activities. And apparently you desperately need it, like you do everything. Why do you insist on making it so difficult?"
I can't answer. I'm too busy dragging air into my lungs.
The dragon has one arm wrapped firmly around my waist while the current tries to tear me away from him.
Even so, the river is carrying both of us downstream at frightening speed. Water crashes against his chest. Mud swirlsaround us. A tree collapses somewhere nearby and vanishes into the flood.
For the first time since meeting him, I don't think he's completely in control of the situation. It’s not that he’s afraid, or even particularly concerned. But he is paying attention in a way I haven't seen before. His eyes move constantly, searching the riverbanks, the trees and the rocks while he keeps me lifted above the water.
Another wave crashes over us. When I emerge coughing, he immediately adjusts his grip and pulls me higher.
"Keep your head up," he growls.
"I'm trying," I gasp.
"Try harder." The answer is ridiculous enough that I almost laugh.
The river continues trying to drag us away, but Vyrathion has finally found something solid beneath his feet.
At first he only gains a few inches. Then another step. Mud slides away around his boots and water crashes against his chest, yet somehow he keeps moving toward the bank. I can feel the effort in the arm wrapped around my waist. The dragon isn't struggling the way a human would struggle, but neither is he treating this as a minor inconvenience anymore.
A few moments later his foot finds firmer ground. The current still pulls at us, furious at losing its prey, but the outcome has already been decided.
Vyrathion climbs the bank one heavy step at a time while carrying me as though I weigh nothing. Water pours from our clothes. Mud slides down the slope around us. Behind us, theriver continues roaring through the jungle, swallowing trees, branches and entire sections of earth.
Only when we're well clear of the edge does he finally stop. Then he deposits me on the ground.
I immediately collapse onto my hands and knees, and for several seconds I can't do anything except cough.
River water pours from my mouth. Mud burns in my throat. I spit out sand, leaves and something that might once have been part of a plant. Every breath feels raw.
But the ground beneath me has never felt so wonderful. I clutch at it with both hands as though it might somehow escape. Rain continues hammering down through the trees, but suddenly I don't care. The earth is solid. It isn't moving. It isn't trying to drown me.
A fresh coughing fit doubles me over.
Somewhere above me, Vyrathion sighs. The sound contains a remarkable amount of disappointment. "I take my eyes off you for a split second and you immediately throw yourself into a river."
