Page 149 of Dare

My free fingers sought the hollow of my chest. Winter wore the perils of ice on its shoulders. Within certain forests, one might encounter a poison derived from a translucent nut. Eating it produced a rapid, frost-bitten state. I had devised an antidote that worked against multiple poisonous and venomous infestations, including that one. I knew the remedy’s bitter, herbal taste well. I’d administered it to myself countless times over the years, although I hadn’t needed it. Not for that reason.

I’d been taking it to calm myself, to ward off the contrived portents of madness. Until arriving here, I’d been wearing that restorative around my neck.

The vial and its contents, sunken at the bottom of a whirlpool. Engulfed in what might be a sandy floor.

Seething, I launched from the wellspring with Flare clutched in my arms. On the way back down the path, I swiped her sand net from the discarded satchel. Thankfully, she often insisted on traveling with that net.

Drenched and out of my fucking mind with fear, I cut my way out of the jungle and shot through the rainforest. Yet within seconds, my limbs hesitated on the safest direction. I knew how such ailments affected their victims. Charging to the ruins where she’d be protected required a longer trip, which would deplete Flare of critical time.

The echo of rushing water reached my ears. My gaze cut south toward a clearing where waterfalls poured over rocky projections and converged in a pond. As opaque steam clouds launched from the surface, I remembered this place. We’d been here before, when Flare slayed me by dancing in a small funnel of sand.

Two options broke me in half. To squander precious minutes racing to the ruins. Or to preserve those minutes and trust this realm, as Flare would say.

With haste, I lay her gently on the bank. I moved quickly, peeling off the sodden clothes and grimacing because I lacked a blanket in which to bundle her.

I could not leave my beast here alone. But if I didn’t, she would not survive.

A purr rumbled from behind. Knife in hand, I whipped toward the disturbance. The jaguar from Flare’s pack approached, its marbled fur saturated in red and black. I stiffened, ready to block Flare from the creature but halted at the tender noises coming from its throat. Something protective kindled in the feline’s eyes as she came nearer, her expression cautious on me.

I stared, calculated, assessed. The animal wanted to help.

Carefully, I watched. Prepared to attack, I observed as the sabertooth padded over to Flare, slumped to the bank, and curled beside her limp form, the fur certain to keep her comfortable.

So be it. Cupping Flare’s frigid cheek, I leaned down and whispered against her mouth, “Wait for me, sweet beast.”

Tearing to my feet, I snatched her sand net and raced from the waterfalls. From the ruin caves, the route to the whirlpool would be direct, but it would also be longer. If I could squeeze or climb my way past the boulders separating this side of the island from where we’d originally set up camp, I would reach my destination faster.

I broke through the forest and catapulted onto the southwest cove. Waves smashed into the cluster of rocks, breaking apart with a shout, spraying my face and torso. In this setting, navigating the crags would be destructive. But at high tide, swimming around it was out of the question.

Affixing the sand net’s handle to my belt, I contemplated the slick, uneven surfaces that could shred me to ribbons. My size. My unshod feet. The fact that I couldn’t see a fucking thing, forcing me to feel my way through.

Madness. Foolishness.

Flare. Cold. Dying.

In seconds, I reached the boulders. My palm skimmed the partition for an opening, only to locate a channel too narrow for a damn eel to slip through. I would gut myself open on the jagged facade or get consumed by the tide.

Flare.

I dropped to the ground and crawled into the artery. Let this ocean try and rip me apart.

My limbs raked through drenched clumps of sand, the ocean plowed into my frame, and saltwater doused my eyes. Gritting my teeth, I whisked my face sideways, avoiding another onslaught. I dragged myself to the right, then left as the enclosure swallowed me, its razor-sharp walls chafing on all sides. A wave shoved itself down my ear canal and flooded my throat until I vomited, and something carved into my lower back.

The conduit expanded. Finally, I sucked in a mouthful of air and spilled onto the southeast shore. Blood from a wound I couldn’t see painted the sand red.

Staggering upright, I shot back into the forest, offshoots scraping me raw like the edges of a thousand swords. It would have been unfeasible to forget this place, even if I hadn’t chronicled the terrain with Flare. The pool swirled near the rainforest border, abreast of the cove.

I heard the eddying water before I found it. Pausing at the maw of the abyss, I felt the surface towing me into the memory.

The seething tug of the water. The absence of breath. The vial, stolen from me.

Was there a bottom? Unknown.

Might the vial be down there? Hopefully.

Could Winter innovation have produced such a durable piece? Potentially.

I’d told Flare about the pendant’s contents. She knew it had been lost, but I hadn’t mentioned the source. She might have assumed it happened during the shipwreck. A fortunate thing, for if I’d told her after we became friends, the reckless female would have plunged into the depths and attempted to retrieve the necklace. In her efforts, she might have gotten sucked under.

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