After that stretch, the Similyan grew wider. There became fewer curves and less to look at. Golden fields bordered the river with nothing to look at but wheat and barley fields.
During the first day or two of the journey, the group chatted and shared stories aboard the raft. Maude learned quickly that Pan had led an adventurous life. He had been to just about every corner of the world. Elsi, too, had traveled far. In return, Finlay and Maude shared what it was like to live in the Riverlands.
However, eventually, the conversation died out. It was replaced quickly by a sense of restlessness.
“Will you stop?” Caris muttered to Elsi, who had been walking in the same small circle for the better part of an hour. Maude didn’t blame her; she felt just as uncomfortable after days of sitting on the raft.
She glared at him in response and continued to pace.
“How far are we?” Maude asked Finlay.
“We’re about four days away from Dawnellis. We’re getting close.”
“We should have waited for a sailboat,” Elsi relented to Pan, who sat beside Finlay with a bottle in his lap.
“Have you seen one pass us?”
“No,” Elsi replied.
“Then waiting would have been slower. At least we’re going in the right direction. Besides, be thankful that we’ve found the help we did.” He placed a hand on Finlay’s shoulder, startling him slightly.
Elsi let out a sigh and continued to pace, this time, to spite Caris.
“I’ve got it,” Pan exclaimed suddenly.
Maude raised her head and looked over at the Bard. He stood up quickly and turned to face Finlay. A new expression crossed his features–one of realization.
“You said your family name is Garner?”
Finlay offered a small nod.
“You wouldn’t happen to be related to a woman called Lorelie?”
Finlay didn’t respond immediately. The raft fell into an uncomfortable silence. It was Maude who broke it.
“She’s our mother.” It was an unsaid rule in the cottage that no one spoke of Lorelie. Caris and Finlay were the ones to initiate it, but Maude retaliated when she could. She wanted to talk about her mother. She wanted to know about her life.
“Your mother,” Pan looked between Caris and Maude as if searching for pieces of the woman he once knew.
“How did you know her?” Maude asked before Finlay could shut down the conversation.
“She was once a very good friend of mine.”
“Don’t lie,” Finlay’s mild demeanor shifted to something that resembled a storm. “I would have known if she was friends with Bards.”
Pan shifted to look at Finlay. “And maybe that attitude is exactly why she never told you. Lorelie and I were close for a long time. At least, until she decided to go back to the Riverlands.”
“I don’t understand how you knew her,” Maude insisted.
“She spent most of her youth traveling the countryside on foot. She was a strange girl who became a strange woman. She had always fit in well among the Bards.”
Maude had never heard about this side of her mother. “Really? She traveled a lot?”
“No,” Finlay said before Pan could answer. “She traveled…some. But that was when she was young. She returned to Henoble and lived like every other Meiren.”
“I would say-”
“I assure you that you didn’t know her as well as you thought you did,” Finlay interrupted Pan.
The Bard’s dark eyes flickered across Finlay’s figure. “And you? You must be the brother she spoke about. The smart one who studied in Maten Village.”
Maude watched as Finlay’s jaw tightened. His knuckles were white as he held the rudder.
“Did you finish your schooling?”
“Not quite.”
“Why not?”
“Life changes quickly, sometimes.” He glanced at Maude and Caris. “I went home to help my sister and these two.”
Pan nodded with some resemblance to understanding.
“It’s an odd coincidence that we’d cross paths,” Finlay offered. It was likely an attempt to shake off his anger.
“Like I said before. Dria Thal was awakened. Its magic will continue to cause strange occurrences. I see this as only the beginning.”
Maude considered Pan’s words. The world was different, and she could feel it. It wasn’t just the voices of trees that had changed. Nothing stood alone anymore–or maybe it never truly had. Just beneath the surface of every person, animal, and plant, there was a thread that connected them all.
Maude was tempted to ask Pan more about her mother. However, she was in no mood to be on such a small raft with an angry uncle. So, she sat at the edge of the raft and watched the shoreline as they drifted along. Her thoughts were interrupted rather suddenly by the conversation between the trees.
“I have stood here for eighty years,” an oak tree insisted. “And I will stand for eighty more. No autumn storm will uproot me.”
“This is not a typical storm.”
“I don’t fear it.”
“You should. We all should. The Still in the North have been destroyed. Uprooted.”
Silence fell upon the trees as Maude looked up to see them waving gently in the wind. “A storm?” she whispered.
“Is that the Walkling the Willows have told us about?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, she is a small one.”
“They are all small.”
“Not the great beastly ones from the north.”
“She heard us talking.”
“That matters not.”
“Excuse me,” Maude said, standing up and looking at the grove of trees. “But did you say a storm is coming?”
“Yes. It’s coming from the north.”
“Is it because of Dria Thal?” Maude asked. She felt Caris shift behind her.
“Yes.”
“Will it affect the river? We are trying to get to Dawnellis.”
“Our kin in the north say it was deadly.”
“But I do not fear it.”
“Some of us fear it.”
“Do you know how far it is?” Maude turned back to face the north. The skies were still dark, covered in strange black clouds. However, she saw no sign of storms.
“It is close.”
Maude looked at Finlay, who was already staring at her. “The trees say that a storm is coming. A big one from the north. I think it has something to do with Dria Thal.”
“Did the trees also tell you how close we are to a town?” Caris taunted. “I’m starving.”
“You should have packed better provisions,” Elsi commented.
“You didn’t exactly give us much time,” he replied.
“Maude,” Finlay interrupted the fight that was beginning. “I believe you–what you heard. But, there’s no sign of a storm.” He gestured towards the sky.
“I know,” Maude admitted. “But that’s just what they said.” She had spent enough of her life on the river to know what an approaching storm looked like. Just as Finlay said, there were no signs of a storm.
Caris and Elsi continued their argument, but Maude had stopped listening to them. She sat back down and wondered why the trees had lied.
The trees hadn’t been lying, but their warning had fallen on deaf ears. When the storm hit, no one aboard the little raft was prepared. A gale from the north crashed across the river like a tidal wave. A cold wind blew viciously against the little raft.
It didn’t stop at a gust. Soon it became evident that they were at the beginning of a storm. The winds only increased, and soon the water became so choppy that it was hard to see the rocks and eddies in the water. With the gales came rain. A splattering of cold rain was soon replaced by a torrential downpour.
It wasn’t long before the river became impossible to navigate. Even the shoreline was invisible through the heavy, horizontal rain.
“The trees were right,” Elsi said through the rain. “We should have listened to her.” Her frustration was pointed at Finlay. Rain coated her hair and clothing, making it cling to her body.
“Should we go to the shore?” Pan asked. He was just as drenched but much less angry than Elsi.
The Similyan had only grown larger and quicker as they headed south. It was now as wide as a lake, rushing southward.
“No,” Finlay replied. “We should stay out here. If we go to the shores, the raft will be destroyed. The nearest town is not for a long while. We’d be forced to walk for days.”
Maude felt the overwhelming sense of fear creep up her spine. It was the first time since leaving the cottage that she realized the danger of travel. The dark waters around the raft grew more and more turbulent by the moment. River water splashed over the wood floors—cold and unforgiving.
Going to shore was not an option, but staying out in the water could have been just as fatal. There was a reason the fishermen of Henoble never went out during a storm. Maude held tight to the raft as the wood beneath her became slick.
All around them, the wind howled. Caris, Maude, Elsi, and Pan crouched in the center of the raft. Finlay stood at the helm, steering the little vessel to the best of his ability. Between the choppy waters and the strong northern winds, the raft barely obeyed Finlay’s direction.
The raft was blown across the water with increasing velocity. Maude’s sweater and dress were completely soaked through with rain and river water. She held onto the edges of the raft so tightly that her fingernails had embedded themselves into the wood.
All Maude could do was watch as the storm grew in intensity. There was no sign of the storm letting up, and already the raft had drifted into several rocks. She wondered how much more it could take.
Finlay’s raft was sturdy, but it was by no means a ship. It was not built for rough waters or strong winds. Maude’s eyes darted over to her uncle as he attempted to steer the raft. The look of fear was etched across his face as a bolt of lightning illuminated the water.
She looked back at the southern waters ahead of her. Suddenly, she understood the fearful look on Finlay’s face. With the near-constant flashes of lightning, she saw a collection of jagged rocks. They rose from the water like the teeth of a monstrous beast.
“Fin,” she yelled, but the wind took her breath away.
Before anyone had time to react, the little raft smashed into the rocks. The sudden impact sent Maude flying from the raft and into the water.
The shock of the cold made her gasp as she swam to the surface. She was so focused on staying afloat that she struggled to find the others. In the darkness, Maude called out to Finlay and Caris, but there was no response.
A current caught her before Maude could gather herself. It pulled her carelessly through the waves. Thunder cracked overhead, and she attempted to call out for Finlay again. In the pit of her stomach, she knew it was useless. Wherever the current was taking her, it certainly wasn’t towards the others.
A floating log caught her skirt. Maude grasped the slippery bark as quickly as she could. She used it to pull herself out of the water just slightly–just enough to search. Her eyes scanned the dark water. She didn’t know how far the current had taken her, but she failed to see the raft.
Instead, Maude saw something very different.
A ship sailed downstream towards her. Its sails were pulled tight by the gales. Blue lanterns hung from the mask and the helm, illuminating the deck of the ship. Maude gasped at the size of the ship. This was no Meiren boat. This was a real ship. It was built in an Akarelleian style with a sleek design and large, painted sails.
“Help,” Maude yelled, waving her hands above her head. “Please, help.”
She was almost certain that the ship didn’t see her. There was no way anyone aboard would be able to see her through the dark. She was beginning to lose hope when she saw a rope dangling from the ship’s hull.
With the little strength that Maude had left, she swam towards the ship and grabbed hold of the rope. Her hands were wet and cold, making it difficult to pull herself up. However, the fear of falling back into the water kept her going.
Eventually, Maude was able to scramble up the side of the ship. She heaved herself over the side gunwale and landed on the deck with a splash. She stared up at the rainy skies and watched as a streak of lightning shot through the clouds.
Before exhaustion overtook her, Maude hoped that Finlay, Caris, and the others had somehow made it safely to land. She hoped that they were alright.
If this were a book I would be turning pages. An excellent story, carrying me along like a river.
Thank you.