Page 69 of The Rusalka and Mr. Right

I left work at three. Kev’ll be home a little after five. I should be home by now. I wanted to have dinner ready. We have plans tonight.

Why is everything taking so long? How long was I talking to Carrie? I need to start wearing a watch. It can’t bethatlate.

I fumble for my phone but stop when I catch sight of my hands. My skin is... cracking.

I just swam yesterday. Had a shower this morning. I’m not supposed to feel like this. Not supposed to be dehydrating like this.

Need the river. River runs parallel to the road. Down the hill.

It feels like I’m breathing fire. Sulfur. I veer from the side of the road as I see cars flicking on their headlights.

Phone says it’s after four. Wait, after five? Why so dark so early?

Storm’s coming.

The ground is uneven as I leave the road, and I immediately find a tree root in the dark.

Wait, that’s wrong. I can see in the dark just fine.

Except this darkness is suffocating, just like the air.

The world swims, and I roll to my knees as I stumble towards water.

A small part of my brain knows I should call Kevin. Or 911.

But I canseewater. The river is only a few hundred yards away.

My bleary eyes blink, and I look at the sky. Darker now. Rain, any second. Right?

Wrong.

I fall when I try to get back up, slow brain remembering that there’s a small water bottle in my purse. I never carry much, but Kev insisted that I have water with me.

My hands are now hot pink in the dim light from the phone, and I’m torn between trying to figure out why or use all of my sluggish focus to unscrew the metal cap on the pretty teal bottle. When I wrench it open, I splash some on my face and into my mouth, and it’s like someone placed an oxygen mask over my face. My lungs open up with a painful sear.

For long moments, I sit still, sipping and splashing what little water is left in the little bottle. The more I drink, the hotter the air seems to grow. The less I can see.

My phone flickers, and I can see that it’s just turning six.

What the fuck? How am I moving so slow? Why is everything so... different?

No, this isn’t good. I have to make it to the river. I can call Kev from there, half submerged. Even a foot in the water would be enough to rejuvenate me, help me breathe in whatever this is.

Storm’s coming.

Not a regular storm. Magic. Darkness surrounds.

Surroundsme.

I drag myself to the river’s edge now, scraping my flaming skin and moving in the darkness, not caring for what I can’t see, using the familiar sound of lapping water to guide me. My phone is clutched in my hand, but I can’t stop to dial.

It feels like hours (so does that mean it’s been days?) until I reach water and tumble in, leaving my phone and bag right on the edge, ready to grab.

Oh. Ohhhh, thank God and all the beings of power. I can think again. Breathe again. Water soaks into my skin with such ferocity that I cry with relief—and my mind snaps back into focus.

Koshchei. Koshchei or one of his allies, one I don’t know about, must be doing this. Something powerful,deadlyand powerful, that’s who is blanketing my town with stifling heat and darkness. Slowing time—or should that be speeding it up? Manipulating things so that I would be driven into the river.

Trap.

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