Page 35 of Dare

Yet the corner of my lip curled. A fucking rainforest.

Despite my parched mouth, the rest of my frame dripped with perspiration. While I’d spewed ocean water from my gut, the precipitation would wring me out as my body continued its futile attempt to cool off. If confusion or dizziness arose, if my head kept hammering, or if my vision blurred …

My free hand located the vial. I thought of hallucinations, of spending my final hour in a spiral of dehydrated lunacy.

Whether or not this place experienced frequent rainfall, there must be a stable body of water nearby. Bred in a court replete with trackers, I consulted Winter’s knowledge. Find a downhill slope or follow the animals. Hunters checked for sundered or distorted branches, or other signs of a trail made by fauna.

My mental faculties must be wavering on a precipice, if it had taken me this long to remember such elementary trivia. I scrubbed my eyelids to clear my vision. If it came down to it, I might have to slap the shit out of myself.

Would that beast know her way around here, through some primal instinct? Or would the raptors, reptiles, or mammals get to her first?

I hastened, stalking down the lane. The sooner I fueled myself, the sooner I would find her.

With every few steps, the mist forced me to pause and catch my breath. From somewhere in the canopy, a disconcerting hiss vibrated.

I proceeded with caution. Where fauna lived, water would flow.

Ahead, a sliver of blue sparkled through the foliage. I pushed my way into an enclosed copse of fig trees and halted before a small, glistening pool. On the opposite side, vegetation offered glimpses of an abutting shoreline, though not the cove I’d washed up on, since that expanse had been barren. At this alternate beach, detritus from the tidefarer had been lumped under a fern tree, creating a disorderly pile, as though the tide had ejected it there.

Water first. Logic second.

I located an errant stick and thrust its length into the pool. Not shallow, since the tip failed to hit the ground. Also, compared with any other water body, these eddies were cast in a strange kind of blue. I could not place the exact shade.

More hissing slithered from the treetops, their boughs shifting under the bulk of a moving creature. The sound brought serpents to mind. If the reptile kept a habitat in the trees, that meant it knew how to camouflage itself.

I considered other vital facts like prehensile tails, crushed bones, and asphyxiation. Either that, or venom.

Idling near an unknown dweller could mean death. Whereas dehydration guaranteed it.

I sank to my knees while keeping a vigilant eye on the canopy. When no other activity occurred from above, I glimpsed the water and noticed my reflection. A drop of blood swelled from the cut on my face, slid across my jaw, and plunked into the water. My weather-beaten features peered back, the sight unrecognizable—a Royal with uncertainty clouding his eyes.

I shook off the impression, then dipped a finger into the pool. The surface tensed, the ripples exerting a downward pressure. An evident misinterpretation on my part, a symptom of intense thirst. Or the product of delusional thinking.

Anything but that. Anything but forfeiting sanity.

First thing. Purify the water. Boil it with the fermented petals of a Winter violet and drink. Simple.

Not fucking simple. With what flame or saucepot? I could use saliva to enact fermentation, but I would need time. And I would need a Winter violet.

The water attached itself to my finger like a leach, the pressure so great it took effort to withdraw my hand. As if weighed down by bricks, my eyelids grew heavy.

Refusing to acknowledge such absurdity, I tested a droplet. It soaked into my tongue, fresh and pure, whereas lagoons would have contained saltwater.

I waited. No effects.

Another dose. Nothing.

I swallowed more each time, however this tentative approach would take me only so far. I formed my hands into a bowl and submerged them. The water pressure grew stronger. Toward what might be the bottom, the pool’s depth appeared to be swirling.

Withdrawing my hands, I lifted them to my mouth and quenched my thirst. Liquid gushed down my throat, alleviating the bone-dry sensation. Hopefully, this would rinse my mind of delirium. Matter of fact, I could drain this pool, so great was my craving.

My hands sank back into the water, down to my elbows. I had never partaken of anything so stimulating. So …

“Alive,” I muttered.

Silence. No hissing reptile. It had left, cleared the area.

I narrowed my eyes at the whirling surface. What the fu—

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