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echo of his voice was dampened by his waterfilled ears. He couldn t reach her
by a sending for there was only that crackle in his mind, the water-induced
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static. He pulled her close to him in a last mindless embrace and the pressure
of his body against hers caused water to spew from her mouth.
Frantically he turned her over onto her stomach and pushed against her back,
reasoning that he might be able to pump more water from her that way. Water
drained from her mouth and nose, but still she didn t take a breath. He pushed
and pushed until he could coax no more out, until his arms ached, then turned
her over and stared.
Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was slack. There was a reddening bruise on her
cheek from the stone.
Oh, Akki, please, he cried again. Take my breath. Please!
He put his mouth on hers, as if he could force air into her, and blew. Once.
Twice. Three times.
And then, as if rejecting his breath, she coughed, a frothy rough hacking that
sent both breath and water back into his mouth. He gagged. She opened her eyes
and they were like water-filmed stones. Then life seemed to spark in them
again slowly. She coughed once more and Jakkin hugged her, burying his face
against her neck. He didn t want her to see him cry.
Oh, Akki, he whispered hoarsely, his lips against her cold skin, I thought
you were dead.
Not& not dead yet, she whispered back, her voice unnaturally low. But
awfully wet. And cold.
Tenderly he wrapped her robe about her shoulders. Don t move, he said. Just
get warm. And get your breath back. There s something I have to check out. But
I ll be back.
He turned and dived into the water, an inelegant splashing. Just before his
head went under his mind cleared and he could feel her sending, still pale but
clear:
And where would I go without you, Jakkin?
chapter 34
AS HE WENT down, down, down toward the piercing green light, Jakkin
concentrated only on his swimming. He was an instinctual but untrained swimmer
and had never gone any long distances before.
Most of his swimming had been of the splash-and-wade variety, done in the
water that threaded through the oasis where he d raised Heart s Blood. But he
pulled strongly with his arms, kept his feet kicking steadily, and headed into
the center of the green light. He counted on that light-it had to be a way
out.
Just when he thought his lungs would burst the green turned a brilliant white
and he followed it up and into the air. He grabbed great gulps of breath and
his chest heaved up and down. When his eyes were no longer water-filmed he saw
he was in a cavern of green-white crystals. Overhead and on the cave walls
were strange, faceted rocks that pulsed with light. Above the water, rainbow
shadows danced and shimmered. Then he realized that instead of being in a lake
he was in an eddying river whose slow-moving current was Carrying him along.
He paddled in desultory fashion, letting the river do the work, and in this
way rounded a great curve. Suddenly an enormous opening was before him. It was
as high as the nursery studbam and opened on to endless sky.
The water carried him through. He turned over and floated along on his back,
looking up into the clear blue Austarian sky where a black dot was scripting
an elliptic message. His mind still crackled with the water s static, so there
was no way he could receive a sending that would tell him if that dot was a
dragon-or a copter. He flipped back over onto his stomach, took three strong
strokes, and clambered out onto a bank whose grass came right down into the
water.
From where he stood, shaking himself like a dragon just emerged from a bath,
he could see that the river wound on for another couple hundred meters, and
then disappeared precipitously, as if the end were suddenly sheered off. There
was a constant low deep sound, which seemed at once comforting and ominous. He
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wondered about it, but it wasn t like any sound he d ever heard.
Behind him the mountain climbed straight up, as if a second mountain stood
atop the first, its dark rocks broken and ugly. On the other side of the river
was a grassy slope similar to the one he stood on, and beyond it a sheer drop.
He could see a stretch of desert land below with scattered green-black clumps
of trees. And even farther on there was a black snaky line he guessed was a
river, perhaps even the
Narakka.
He became aware of the untrammeled grass between his toes, cool and tickling.
Smiling at last, he threw himself facedown and let the strong familiar earth
smell surround him.
But all the while he was thinking furiously, questions boiling up inside. How
was he to get Akki, who could not swim, through the water to this
blue-and-green haven? How could he convince a dragon already beginning to
swell with eggs to swim to an unknown and unknowable destination? How could he
hold both girl and worm through the terrifying moments underwater when none of
them would be able to link minds? And, above all, how could he do it so that
the cave people didn t know their plans ahead of time or follow them into this
light and open place?
Shaking his head, Jakkin let the sun warm and dry him. Slowly his mind cleared
of the static, and as it did he felt it invaded by a faraway sending, faded
but familiar:
Sssargon rides. Sssargon turns. Sssargon soars.
Jakkin chuckled to himself, waiting for the dragon to become aware of his
presence. Then as the dragon monologue continued unabated, realization dawned
on Jakkin. Sssargon simply didn t hear him. He, Jakkin, was broadcasting none
of his feelings. The habits he had learned in his long days deep in the cave
held. Without even worrying about it, without working at visualizing a wall or
a curtain or a fence, he could now cloak his feelings. Thankfully he opened
his mind and let out a whoop of color. Sssargon!
his sending shouted. Sssargon, shut up! And Sssargon-come here!
The dot did a complete loop-de-loop and started toward him, its sendings
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