Dindi
In the chaos, Dindi focused on only two things.
First—air.
She swam up, fast as she could, until her head broke the surface. She gulped the sweet air into her lungs, over and over.
Second—who needed help?
Gwenika flailed in the water, panicked and gasping. The river pulled at her like it wanted to drag her away. Behind her, the shark fin sliced through the water, coming closer.
Dindi grabbed Gwenika—and yanked her under.
Not the best way to save someone from drowning…
"Gwenika!" Brena shouted from somewhere Dindi couldn't see. "What are you doing, fool? You'll kill her!"
…but Dindi had seen the shark coming. It was aiming straight for Gwenika's legs. She had to pull her out of the way.
Dindi dragged her struggling friend under and pushed them both inside the flipped canoe. A second later, the shark slammed into the boat. It thudded hard and veered away.
It wasn't easy. Dindi had to keep one arm wrapped around Gwenika and the other gripping the canoe seat. At last, they broke the surface again—inside the air pocket under the canoe.
"Grab on! Here!" Dindi gasped.
Gwenika found the wooden seat and clung to it. She spat out water, blinking fast. Then she froze.
"I can't see!" she cried.
"Hold on! It's just dark. We're under the canoe. But we're not safe yet. We have to get to shore!"
Gwenika nodded quickly, eyes wide with fear. She glanced down at the dark water around them.
Dindi understood.
They were still deep in the river, with nothing below to stop the shark from swimming right under them—and biting their feet off.
Gwenika coughed and said, "H-h-how do we know where to go?"
Outside, the seals barked wildly.
"Swim toward the barking," Dindi said. She twisted her body and pushed. "Ready? Kick!"
They moved together, clumsy in the water. Gwenika held onto the front seat. Dindi kept to the back one. The canoe dragged slowly through the current.
At last, their feet touched sand.
They flipped the canoe off and splashed toward land.
They made it.
They stumbled up onto the shore, wet and shaking.
But the river shark—muck-drenched, stubborn beast!—wasn't finished yet.
It came back one last time.
It lunged at the seals on the beach, caught one of the screeching animals in its jaws, and vanished under the water.
The great fin disappeared downriver.
The people gathered on the beach looked like soaked rats. Everyone had made it out of the river alive, but they were dripping wet and grumpy.
Kavio came out last, dragging another man to shore. The man dropped to the sand and threw up a bellyful of water. It was Gremo.
"That rock on your back nearly killed you," Kavio said.
A big bear-like man, Kavio's servant and bodyguard was almost as heavy as the rock he always wore a big rock strapped to his back. Dindi didn't understand why he liked the rock. It wasn't a troll in disguise, or anything interesting, it was just... a rock. Gremo was a bit strange.
Kavio gathered everyone to check what had been saved—and what they had lost.
Their group included seven Yellow Bear warriors and a few others. Kavio was their leader, and they were guided by the Peace Envoy. They had come into Blue Waters territory to calm tensions between the two tribes. Blue Waters had attacked Yellow Bear, but Yellow Bear didn't want revenge. They wanted payment. Kavio had been invited to speak with the Blue Waters War Chief to see if peace was possible.
But considering that one of their party, Vultho, had already betrayed the peace, the mission wasn't going to well so far.
Svego, the Peace Envoy, wrung water from his short hair. Gremo stood nearby, simply dripping. The Yellow Bear warriors shook out their soaked clothes and polished their flint weapons—daggers, spears, and bows.
Rthan helped Brena, the healer, and her daughter, Gwenika, pull out their wet packs. The packs had been tied down in the canoe, so they didn't float away. But Brena's cry of dismay meant bad news: many of her healing powders were ruined by river water.
That meant Dindi would have to help Gwenika collect new plants and mushrooms. And who knew if any of the special herbs grew around here?
"Where are we?" Kavio asked Svego.
"Near the estuary," Svego replied. "This is the mouth of a smaller branch of the main river, called Selkie River. Of course, it also flows into the sea."
"Selkie River?" Kavio said. "They should call it Shark River."
"This isn't a good place to stop," Rthan warned.
"You think?" Kavio said with dry sarcasm.
Rthan ignored it. "We should get back in the canoe and keep going. If we leave now, we could still reach our destination a little after sunset."
"What about the shark?" asked Brena.
"It already fed," Rthan said. "I doubt it will return."
He paused, frowning. It looked like he wanted to say more—but instead he kept quiet.
Kavio checked the canoe. The bark had been shredded. The jagged edges looked like bite marks.
"We'll have to camp here," Kavio decided. "Unless there's a nearby clanhold that might host us?"
Svego and Rthan exchanged a look.
"There is a clanhold farther down Selkie River," Svego admitted. "But, honey-drop, we don't want to go there. They say they're loyal to our War Chief—but that loyalty is weak. Their big boss, a brute named Rongo, is a rival. I think he wants to take over. If he sees a chance to ruin this peace party, he'll take it."
"Fa," said Kavio. "Understood. We avoid them."
The group climbed inland and uphill until they found land that wasn't rock. It was grassy, with a few trees and a small brook running nearby. Here, the water tasted sweet—much better than the salty river below.
Everyone set to work. They built lean-tos for shelter, made fire pits, and cleaned fish for dinner. It was still afternoon, but everyone was hungry.
Dindi filled the water skins from the stream and returned them one by one. She gave the last two to Brena and Gwenika.
She heard their voices from inside the tent. They hadn't noticed her.
"That little fool nearly killed you!" Brena was shouting. "We have the right to demand Kavio whip her!"
"No!" Gwenika cried. "Mama, don't!"
"She dragged you under the water—trying to save herself!"
"No, it wasn't like that—"
"Why can't you see? That girl is no fit friend for you, Gwenika!"
Dindi's eyes stung with tears. She set the water skins beside the tent and backed away.
She kept walking until she reached a group of large mossy boulders at the top of a nearby hill. The rocky hill looked like a crouching giant, hairy with moss and crusted with lichen. Dindi climbed up what looked like the "arm" and sat on the "shoulder."
From here, she could see where the Selkie River met the bigger river. She couldn't see the ocean from here—still too far. She had only seen the Blue Vast once, and she longed to see it again. It was truly as beautiful as the songs claimed.
Below, she noticed the seal rookery. Hundreds of brown, sleek seals rested on the rocks, barking and rolling in the sun.
"I wonder if any of them are really Selkies?" she said out loud. She had never met a seal shifter. They weren't fae, people said, but humans with Imorvae magic, able to turn into seals. The only Shifter she knew of was the Bearling who had attacked along with Vultho. He'd been a Morvae, though, and his alter animal had been a bear.
Two stone eyelids, each the size of her head, slowly opened above her. The head lifted up, twice as high as she was. Now she was looking at a mossy green ear.
A massive mouth yawned, full of chipped flint teeth.
Whoops.
This wasn't just a hill that looked like a giant. It really was a giant—and she was sitting right on his shoulder!
She should have noticed his Green glow. He was Low Green Fae. (Despite their size, giants were considered Low Fae, not High Fae, because they weren't too smart.) But his light had been hidden by the rocky pattern of his skin and the moss covering his body.
She didn't move. Maybe, if she stayed still, he wouldn't notice her, the way a bear ignored a mouse.
Then his mouth opened again, and his deep voice boomed.
"There used to be many Seal People!" he said. "They were nice. They brought me fish. But not so many now. Or none that bring me fish!"
"I have a few fish," Dindi said, trying to sound calm. The rule with fae: never act afraid. "They are small and dry—not very tasty. But I would gladly share them with you."
"That would be nice!" the giant roared. "I was going to eat you, but I like fish better than flesh!"
"Me too!" Dindi said quickly.
She took a pouch from her belt, unwrapped the satchel inside, and tossed the tiny dried fish into his mouth. They sparkled silver as they fell into his wide jaws. He didn't chew—just swallowed them all with a loud, squishy gulp.
He sighed—a huge breath that stirred the trees on the far side of the meadow.
His stone eyelids dropped again. His giant chin tilted back down to his chest.
Then came a sound like a buzzing hive. He had fallen asleep and started snoring.
Dindi let out a tiny giggle—but only once.
Carefully, she climbed down his arm.
Maybe he didn't mind her sitting on him—but now that she was out of fish, she had no plans to wake him again!