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She launched herself into the air. “M’be all right for a bit.”
The Copper slid into the river, hugged his limbs to his side, and let his tail rather stiffly propel him through the water. He found that if he took a full breath of air, he could sink and let just his head ride above the waterline.
He gave a glance back and saw a snake plunge into the water, but its fellows clustered at the bank.
With a bend, a dropped shoulder, and a wave of his tail, the Copper rounded on his pursuer, and the snake fled upstream.
The bats fluttered overhead. For all the elbow throwing and head butting they did when clinging to the rock ceiling, they maneuvered in the air expertly, avoiding outcroppings of rock, the river surface—and a hatchling’s tiny crest.
They left the brighter mosses of the tunnel for a dim line of growth that existed at the edge of the river, clinging to the rough-hewn tunnel. Every now and then the tunnel widened and the lines fell away before coming together again where tool-work scarred the rock.
At one “lake,” Enjor swooped down and guided him toward an outflow. Colored lights glimmered across the lake, reds and blues and oranges, but he had no desire to investigate and risk another encounter with dwarves or whatever else lived down there.
Swimming was tiring—his bad leg dragged on the current, and he had to turn and push to compensate—so he preferred to float, keeping his lungs inflated and just waving his tail enough to stay afloat.
He became used to the cold of the water so quickly he feared he might be going numb and freezing to death. He struck out for the side of the cavern and tried a short climb and found all his limbs still able to function, though his hearts were pounding from the slight effort.
“M’be needing a rest, anyway,” Thernadad said, landing. His mother clung to his back, a tiny white-flecked thing atop his bulk. Her spurt of energy must have given out.
The others soon landed.
“M’be perishing,” Mamedi said. “Just a tiny drop of blood, sir.”
“I need my strength,” the Copper countered.
“Faaaaa!” she said. “You’re just floating there. Us on wing be doing all the work.”
“M’mind be muddled with exertion and shock of seeing cousins slain right and left, m’lord.” Enjor coughed. “A fork be coming up in the river. Unless I have my wits w’be going wrong.”
The Copper was tempted to tell him to return to the cave and deal with King Gan.
“Oops, you’d better be climbing higher, sir,” some young relation of Mamedi said. “Another dwarf boat a’coming!”
The Copper saw its light before he heard the faint ring of the approaching bell.
From what he could remember of the craft, the only dwarf who could see out the front was in a cage at the back of the boat.
“I’m tired of swimming,” the Copper said—though he’d been floating, there was no reason for the bats not to think him as tired as they were; otherwise they’d each clamor for blood. “Let’s ride with the dwarves.”
“Muh?” the bats chorused.
“You cling to rock well enough. Hang on to the front of the boat.”
“With all that racket?” Thernadad said. “A’deafened by that bell? Can’t echo with all that noise.”
“Leave the steering to the dwarves. Anyway, I’m going to ride for a while. Try to keep up.”
“The lordship’s right!” Enjor said. “M’be for it. The dwarves know their business.”
The Copper slipped back into the water.
Bing-bing. Bing-bing…Bing-bing.
It filled the tunnel like an angry dragon, light and clanging and churning as it cut through the water.
The Copper reached for it, but the front had been smoothed where it met the water. He slipped beneath its prow and felt the pull of current toward the bubbling stern, clawed frantically, and finally got a grip on a sort of rail running the underside of the vessel. He locked sii and saa on the projection and used it to climb back to the nose end.
He rode for a moment between front point and bow wave, catching his breath. Using the power in his saa and his good sii to grip, he managed to round the nose and found the bats huddled unhappily, their gripping digits white with terror. Worked metal in regular spiral shapes had been driven into the bow. Whether it was decor or functional he couldn’t say, but it did offer a grip.
