Page 55 of In Darkness Forged

It was a humbling revelation, but Tal could not stop to consider it while they were still fighting for survival. The current tugged and swirled, making it a struggle just to keep his head above water and maintain an iron grip on the back of Aislin’s jerkin. He dared not relax his hold even for an instant—not when she could be so easily snatched away by the river and crushed against the rocks.

Searching the opposite side from where they’d jumped, he could see only a smooth, dark wall where the river had cut its way through the cave over centuries.

“There is no way out,” he called over the sounds of the water. “We will have to follow the river.”

“Just don’t lose me,” Aislin pleaded, and he could hear her teeth chattering with cold. “It’s so dark.” She probably felt helpless without her eyes, much as he did without his magic.

“I won’t,” Tal said grimly, just as the walls narrowed and the current became a swiftly rushing torrent that carried them inexorably along.

There had to be a bank somewhere—even the tiniest ledge that would allow him to pull them both out. But he could see nothing that promised safety, and the sound of the river only grew louder in his ears.

“Talyn?” Aislin sounded terrified. “What can you see?”

The roar intensified, and when he peered deeper into the darkness, he sensed only… the river’s end. The rushing waters simply dropped out of sight and disappeared.

“It’s a waterfall.”

Aislin’s cry of fear was swallowed by the roar of the water. He felt her fingers scrabbling for a hold on his arm and tried to pull her closer, but they were tossed by an unpredictable current that seemed bent on tearing them apart.

“Hold on!” he cried, and then they were airborne. Falling into nothing. The cave walls flashed by, and Aislin was wrenched from his grip.

Tal hit the water and went under. The current grabbed him and shoved him deeper, but he fought his way up. Looked around for any sign of a bedraggled human, then dove beneath the surface and looked again. There was nothing, and he did not get another chance to search before the river carried him off again, tossing him into a rock and sending him careening downstream.

He had to find her. With no way to tell which way was up, she could get caught beneath the surface and never find her way out.

The thought clutched at his heart with a sickening sense of dread, even beyond what he’d experienced when he’d awakened without his magic. That loss was only temporary. He’d overextended himself before, and his power would return with time.

But he dared not lose this human. Not now that he’d committed himself to protecting her. Once, perhaps, he could have looked on her death with equanimity and walked away, but it was far too late for that now. Far too late to remind himself that he did not want to care about any more fragile creatures who would only break and then break him with their dying.

When had it happened? When had his detachment failed so utterly? He’d been determined to hold her at arm’s length, but she’d somehow slipped inside his walls anyway. And when he looked back…

It was already too late the moment she’d thrown that render’s head in his face. It was too late when she hugged Cuan and treated him like a person, when she’d tended Tal’s wound with gentle fingers, and when she’d fastened her arms around his waist with a trust he’d never earned. When she’d refused to back down in spite of his rejection, when she’d punched the lynx shifter in the face, and then again when she’d attacked the arantha with all of the fierce courage in her tiny body—he had seen the brilliance and tenacity of her spirit and known that she was far more than just a nuisance or an unwanted responsibility.

But it was the moment he’d looked into her eyes and said her name that his fate had truly been sealed. She’d gotten under his skin like a burr or a thorn, and she would haunt him if he failed to save her.

Diving under the surface, Tal searched the murky water for any sign of life, but there was only rock. He popped up again just as the channel narrowed. The cave overhead grew lower, and then he was entirely submerged, shooting through a tunnel with no air at the surface.

Tal held his breath, kicking fiercely as the water carried him onward until it finally shot out of the tunnel. The current died, and he surfaced, gasping for air in the midst of a broad, subterranean lake.

The lake rippled and then grew still, the water turning to a deep green before it ended on a broad, flat shore. Tiny plants grew all the way down to the water, flourishing in the light that filtered through a network of cracks overhead.

The peaceful scene promised safety at last, but where was Aislin?

No dark head broke the waters, no limbs flailed in panic. The vast cavern was silent but for the rush of the underground river.

A grim sort of certainty settled deep into Tal’s bones, but he dived anyway, hoping for any sign that she’d made it through the tunnel. Once she hit the lake, she would inevitably sink like a stone, weighed down by sodden skirts.

He searched to the farthest limit of his breath, deep into the murky waters of the lake, and found nothing.

Perhaps the waterfall…

Don’t lose me, she’d said.It’s so dark.

And he’d promised.

He’d been under for so long his lungs began to protest, but once he surfaced, he would have to admit that he’d failed yet again.

So instead, he drifted vaguely upward, lost in a haze of pain and growing fury. He’d known better. This fresh agony was his own fault, for letting dark eyes and fierce courage sway his judgment.