Page 143 of Wind Rider

That night—the first night they spent on the lake—Brother Joseph tied one of the ancient cast-iron cauldrons Death had taken from the Saleesh to his ankles and then quietly slipped overboard and put an end to his misery. Ralina knew what he was doing. She’d watched him. Silently he’d filled the big pot with water before he took off his robe, folded it neatly, kissed it, and then met her gaze just before he and the water-filled iron pot dropped soundlessly overboard.

She’d started to sit up—to stop him—but he’d folded his hands as if praying to her and shook his head mouthing the wordsPlease let me go.And she had. Ralina understood. It was not her right to take the peace from him that he sought to rediscover in the dark depths. She’d nodded and mouthed back,I will tell your story.

Then Brother Joseph had smiled. It was the first and only time Ralina had seen his expression free of fear, and she was struck anew by how young he was.

He was still smiling when the water closed over his upturned face.

Death hadn’t been in the least bit upset by Brother Joseph’s absence. Instead all the God had said was “Ah, the Brother found his happy ending. A good outcome for a task well done.”

They didn’t need the Brother for the lake crossing. He’d already told Death everything he knew about the lake and its dangers. Navigation was really rather simple—they were to keep heading southeast until they saw the Golden Man Ruins, then turn directly into the sunrise and row to the entrance of the Rock Mountains.

She had no idea what the Golden Man was, nor what ruins he topped, but neither had Brother Joseph. He’d only repeated what he’d heard the Lynx guides say. No one in their armada of death knew, and as one day merged into another, the Storyteller found it was best to focus on each moment rather than to speculate about the future—speculation led to hopelessness, and hopelessness led to the same watery grave Brother Joseph had chosen. Instead, she took one day at a time, focusing on her connection with her Companion and her growing appreciation for Renard and his father. They hadn’t been family before they’d left the Tribe, but now they were the only sanity each other had. The three humansand their two canines clung to one another, and every day after Ralina returned from spending hours with Death, listening to Him prattle on and on about His magnificent plan to subjugate the world and awaken His Consort—the Great Goddess of Life—Daniel prepared untainted food for her, Bear curled beside her, sharing his strength, and Renard held her, whispering that she had survived one more day… one more day.

Ralina grew to despise Lost Lake, and it wasn’t simply because it seemed never-ending. Nor was it because of the horrid Mouths and Monkeys—who claimed four entire boats filled with Milks on their first encounter. Ralina hated Lost Lake because she felt the presence of the uncounted thousands of dead beneath them. At night, when the armada tied up together and the cries of the dreaming Milks drifted across the lake, Ralina swore that she heard answering shrieks coming from far, far under the water, chilling her soul.

The unending days blurred together, one after another, dread and the dead weaving a nightmare tapestry that became the fabric of Ralina’s inescapable life.

LOST LAKE—THE PACK

As the days stretched to weeks, and then the weeks to a new month, time seemed to Mari to begin to blur, weaving a dreamy tapestry that fashioned her new life.

She’d didn’t hate Lost Lake—and after spending several weeks on it the Pack had settled into a rhythm that was surprisingly pleasant. When they neared islands or ruins, the entire Pack went on alert. The Mouths and Monkeys were almost always present, and they never became less disgusting, but after a couple run-ins the Pack learned how to spot both quickly. It was morbid and horrible, but they also learned that the easiest way to get by them was to kill a Monkey in the water. That was usually distraction enough to allow them to slip past any Mouths lurking below.

But often they went several days without seeing anything but water,and during those days the Pack relaxed and found time to practice the things that made life worth living.

Early on, Nik and Mari had been concerned about exercising the canines. Almost two months of rarely seeing land—and even a longer time not touching it—wouldn’t keep the canines conditioned enough for the trek through the mountains ahead of them.

It’d been Mari’s idea to have the Shepherds and Terriers swim alongside the boats.

“But there arethingsunder the water,” Sora said, shuddering in disgust as she glared down into the silent depths.

“Well, sure there are, but unless we can see ruins Antreas says there’s nothing that can hurt us,” Mari had countered.

“She’s right,” Antreas had said as he and Danita paddled around them in their little boat, Bast perched between them. “I’m going to agree about the need to exercise our Companions—and ourselves.”

“I’m getting plenty of exercise,” Sora said, showing off a flexed bicep. “My arms and back have never been so strong.”

“What about your legs?” Mari asked.

“They’re lovely. Thank you for asking,” Sora quipped.

“Lovely legs aside,” Antreas said, “staying conditioned will only help get us through the mountains faster. So, if any of you want to swim beside the boats, I say that is an excellent idea.”

“But whether they want to or not, our canines need the exercise,” Nik said.

“And our feline,” Danita said.

Bast hissed and laid her ears flat against her head as she stared down at the water.

Antreas chuckled at his Lynx. “Yeah, I know you don’t like it, but I’d hate to see thedogsshow you up.”

Bast’s ears lifted, but her eyes narrowed at her Companion. She sighed, coughed, and began grooming herself.

“That’s a yes. If a canine goes in the water, so will she,” Danita said.

“I think I got that, too,” Sora said. She picked up Chloe, who was almost too big now to fit into her swaddle. “Do we really have to swim?”

The pup licked her nose and wagged her tail so hard her rear end wriggled.