Page 79 of The Cradle of Ice
The two brothers closed on him. Large hands pinned his shoulders and ankles.
Rhaif squeezed his eyes shut, readying himself. It didn’t help. With his flesh inflamed, the first cut drew an agonized scream from his throat. The second cut was worse. He thrashed and bucked from the planks. Herl and Perde sprawled over him. Glace continued digging, breaking her oath to do this quickly.
She swore and hollered for the brothers to hold him steady.
Rhaif writhed and panted, soon too agonized to do more than mewl in pain. His vision narrowed to a pinch.
Finally, Glace sat back. “Got it.”
Rhaif collapsed with relief, shaking and shivering. The cabin continued to spin and wobble. His leg remained a torch.
“Let it bleed,” Glace warned. “Best to drain some of the poison before wrapping it.”
Herl made his own assessment. “It’ll leave quite the scar.”
Perde agreed. “Make a right pirate out of ya yet.”
Rhaif groaned, still in agony, but with the thorn out of his thigh, he already felt better. He lifted his head, trying to will the world to settle into one place. “You did good. I should be—”
His head lolled back as a dark wave swept over him. His legs stiffened, then began pounding the planks uncontrollably. As his arms followed suit, his spine arched under him. His neck craned to the point of breaking.
“He’s seizing!” Glace shouted.
His head started hammering the wood—hard enough to finally pitch him into a feverish blackness.
* * *
FOR AN ENDLESS time, Rhaif swam through that darkness, lost in oblivion, rising and falling in a rolling tide. He thought he heard voices, chased after them, only to be drowned away again. He eventually gave up the pursuit. A certain contentedness settled over him, both weighing him down and making him feel lighter.
Then a slight glow shone high above. It caught his fading attention, stirred him from his lassitude. It drew him like a curious trout toward a lure. As he rose toward it, it grew into a golden sun, casting out rays deeper into the blackness. A few streams brushed through him, bringing warmth, along with melodic notes, echoes of his mother’s lullaby.
He let those strands draw him higher. His cold heart thawed in that glow, thumping stronger. The spread of heat over his chest coalesced into a palm and fingers.
Words reached him. “I think he’s coming round.”
The world exploded into brightness. He groaned and tried to shade his eyes.
Someone held his arm down. “Don’t move too quickly.”
He blinked, recognizing Glace’s voice.
But his first sight was that of a goddess, hovering over him. Perfect lips parted, sighing with relief, still laced in a melodic song. Blue eyes, full of concern, shone like a cloudless day. Burnished bronze swam with hues that no word could describe.
“Shiya…” he whispered hoarsely.
“I’ve got you,” she shushed back at him. Her palm—still warm, still humming with a soft glow—rested on his bare chest. “Lie still.”
Rhaif obeyed, knowing he would do anything she asked. Besides, the world continued to rock around him, dizzying him. He stared up at the misty skies, which rolled back and forth over him. He groaned, either still drunk or still feverish.
“Wh … Where are we?”
“In a boat,” Shiya said. “Headed to Iskar.”
Rhaif waved away her words. They made no sense. He got his elbows under him and pushed slightly up. Glace crouched with Hyck ahead of him. Beyond the two, a stranger stood at the prow of a wide-bellied skiff, his strong legs braced wide. He carried woven reins in his hands. Other tethers ran from cleats out to sea.
Rhaif tilted high enough to follow those leads. He spotted a pair of harnessed creatures cresting the waves. They humped and worked strong tails, showing flashes of wings beneath the water. But strangest of all, they thrust opalescent horns ahead of them.
Rhaif moaned. “Either this is a dream or I’m clearly still delirious.”
