Page 18 of Black Sea

His eyes looked like burning embers. “You didn’t seem to mind so far.”

As soon as I felt his fingers press more forcefully into my side, I pulled his arm off me and dove back to the other side of the tree. I leaned on the slimy bark with one hand, gasping for air, my heart pounding as if it might burst out of my chest.

After waiting a few moments for my heartbeat to stabilize, I drew the dagger and dove in to cut off the root.

As evening neared, we finished sharpening the two oars with our blades.

I admired the sunset over the peaceful grey waves, which were tinged with orange and gold. As the sky gradually darkened to indigo, I looked up, searching for the first faint stars. When the constellation that would guide us appeared, I met Amlach’s eyes and nodded.

He nodded back and shifted his position, sitting on the tree trunk with his back to me. He turned to check that I also had lowered my oar into the water. Then we started rowing.

Together.

9

Amlach had remarkable luck. It continued to rain throughout the following two days. While no more storms carried us away, the heavy rain was sufficient to fill the grooves we had carved into the tree trunk with water.

Whenever I saw a shoal of edible raw fish, we would dive to catch them. The human was a decent fisherman and learned to fillet fish quickly by watching me. However, when he swallowed the pulp, he would grimace as if he were about to be sick, which made me smile a little.

On the third day, under the scorching midday sun, Amlach suddenly halted his rowing. His upper body swayed slightly, and he leaned forward, propping himself with one hand against the tree. I watched worriedly as his hunched shoulders lifted and fell with each breath.

He needed water. A lot of water.

“Hold on,” I told him, rowing with more energy.

We were almost there. I could smell the scent of grass, flowers, plants, and freshwater in the salty breeze.

Indeed, nearly an hour later, the outlines of the archipelago became visible about thirty miles away.

“I see the islands,” I exclaimed.

“Awesome,” Amlach replied, his delivery flat. He coughed and groaned softly as he got ready to lower his oar back into the sea.

“Don’t,” I stopped him. “You’d just slow me down.”

“You know what, Elf?” He leaned back against the tree trunk, resting the oar on his abdomen. “You’re such a bitch.”

Spirits, I hated his foul language. “I’m saving your life, you idiot,” I growled.

He chuckled—a vibrant and warm and sensual laugh—clearly pleased that he had succeeded in making me lose my temper.

As we reached the archipelago and our tree’s branches and roots brushed the sandy seabed, we jumped down and made it to the shore.

I had never seen a beach before, as the Kingdom of the Elves was known for its rocky coastlines with sheer cliffs. Unlike the Kingdom of Men, which featured gulfs with golden beaches in the north, here the sand was almost white, and I felt a pleasant tickling sensation under my feet.

It was beautiful.

I wanted to lie down and rub my cheek against the sand grains, but a sudden, frantic grip on my elbow snapped me back to reality.

“There,” Amlach said, jerking his chin toward a stream of freshwater flowing into the beach.

I walked beside him, unsteady on his legs, careful not to cut myself on the scattered white shells.

Water burst from a low crack between two tall rocks. Amlach dropped to his knees beside the stream, immersing his face to drink greedily. I knelt on the opposite side and scooped water with my hands to drink.

The first sip was so painful that I squeezed my eyes shut. I tried to drink slowly, my parched throat craving more water, and my cracked lips burning intensely. Once I no longer felt like every sip was a rock sliding down my trachea, I washed my face with a sigh.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Amlach do the same. He tilted his head with a blissful expression, eyes closed. Drops of water trickled down his temples, onto the sides of his nose with a slight dimple on the tip, along his beard, and down his neck.