15. Across the Drink

Across the Drink

Nessuna is genuinely impressed with the skills of this Mr. Larkwing. 

On several occasions, she nearly loses the trail of this family of rangers. There is more than one occasion where she thinks that they found the site where the family was separated because the larger footprints of Mr. Larkwing seem to disappear completely, and for short amounts of time even the prints of what Nessuna is sure belong to the little girl become more difficult to find. She doesn’t say anything to the group, because she fails to see prints indicating an attack and the family’s tracks alway reappear within a few minutes. 

She is able to easily keep track of the prints from young Nim. Sometimes she finds she has led the group in circles due to the hard press of the youth’s prints in the ground seeming to lack direction.

She had felt nervous about taking the lead at first, but as she seemed to have the most experience in tracking, it only made sense that she should. Noori seems to have some confidence in her and it is enough to bolster a bit of confidence in herself.

After about half an hour of tracking, Nessuna starts to hear the faint but unmistakable sound of rushing water. She remembers that there was a stream on the map they had taken from the Clari’s shop; she believes it was labeled as Silver Hawk Stream.

On the map the stream had been small, but there were a few bridge crossings marked. Still, the map hardly made it seem as though the stream is much of a hurdle. But as she continues inevitably in its direction, the ground beneath her feet begins to soften and turn more marsh-like. The tracks she is following spread wide in the loosening dirt, and she has to slow her own steps to keep sight of them. 

These are not the signs of a small, contained stream. 

She hopes the tracks will turn parallel and follow along the body of water, but within the next five minutes, she and her companions are standing at the bank of a stream much more like a river and the tracks disappear straight into the water. 

“Where’s the bridge,” Tiffani asks from his spot beside her, a position he had maintained for the last thirty minutes. 

His head looks left and right for a bridge that is clearly not here. Nessuna also swivels her head to look downstream. The banks are overrun in a way that suggests there is a block downstream rather than something innocuous, like too much rain. But if there is something, it is too far away for her to spot. 

When they exit the forest, the bank tilts downward in a slight decline, the water rushes downward in the overgrown stream at a pace not frightening, but certainly something to be wary of. 

“How are we gonna cross without a bridge,” the young Elven boy asks, capturing Nessuna’s attention once more as she turns to the group.

“We may need to create a rope bridge,” says the bard, hands on his hips and stance wide as he looks upon the rushing waters with a degree of annoyance. “If we anchor an end and send it over, we should be able to ferry ourselves over if we are careful enough.” 

He begins to rummage through his pack and quickly pulls out a thick hemp rope from its recesses. 

“Does anyone else have rope? We may need more than this.”

Nessuna turns to the others in their group, but all are shaking their heads…

Wait, no. Only Noori and Tiffani shake their heads. Zixxes is not near them. 

For a moment she wonders if he was ambushed and they had not noticed, as he had taken up the rear. She whips toward the forest, ready to rush back after their youngest member, but she spots him. 

He stands at the treeline, feet planted on mostly solid ground, his eyes locked on the rushing water. Even from her distance she can see his brown skin has gone dull and gray. He has his staff held tightly in both hands and his shaking knuckles lose color in the grip. 

The young Goliath is afraid. 

“If we have to do that, we should try to find the narrowest point of the river.” Tiffani says softly, pulling Nessuna’s attention once again. She studies this boy and sees that, though he has not paled like the other, his energy is quieter and more subdued. 

He is scared as well, Nessuna notes. Both boys are discomforted by this trial before them.

“We can scout along the edge,” Nessuna finds herself saying, wanting to be helpful, feeling a bit of their anxiety as her own. “Maybe we can find somewhere more suitable to cross.”

“Yeah,” Tiffani says with a nod. He sets off at a quick pace, giving the swollen river a respectful berth as he searches. Nessuna’s gaze returns to the Goliath boy. He has not moved. He is so still he could be mistaken for a shrine statue to the forest gods. 

Nessuna keeps a watch over him, worried that his focus on the river will keep him from his own vigilance. They are on the hunt for child thieves, afterall. 

“I found a spot that should work,” Tiffani says as he returns. “It’s about a half mile upstream, but it was as far as I am willing to go. I don’t want to risk pulling us too far off the trail, but we shouldn’t risk ourselves crossing, if we can manage it.” 

“Great job, Tiffani,” Noori says with a fondness that Nessuna is beginning to believe is just a part of her nature. “Show us the way.”

The boy blushes a bit, but he turns and leads the small group forward. Nessuna’s eyes return to Zixxes, wondering if she should ask Noori to speak with him. But though he keeps his eyes on the water as though it were a sleeping serpent, he moves parallel to the group, keeping to the treeline as they make their way to their designated crossing area. 

The river swings inward, moving further from the treeline, and Nessuna watches as their youngest companion grudgingly leaves the perceived safety of the trees so as to not be too far separated from the rest. With the assurance that he will follow even if it is not his preference, Nessuna turns her gaze back to their path. 

As the water bends inward, it gets more narrow, though not by much. However, as it draws away from their bank, it moves closer to the tree line on the other. When they finally come to the spot Tiffani has deemed suitable to cross, Nessuna estimates the width of the stream to be fifteen or twenty feet. 

If the current were not so strong, she might have suggested they just swim across. 

Inage of Duck River, TN

Her eyes cut to Zixxes, where he still stands far behind the group but at least no longer in the trees. 

Maybe swimming would not have worked for them all.

“How long is your rope, Maximilian?” Nessuna asks, eyeing the trees across from them for one sturdy and reliable. 

“About fifty feet, I believe,” the man answers.

“That should work. Can I have it?”

The bard hands over the rope without pause, and a part of Nessuna glows at the trust implied in the gesture. Nessuna winds one end of the rope around an arrow, knotting it deliberately and carefully just below the arrowhead. It would need to not only stay tied, but it could not slip even an inch if it was to hold the weight of at the very least the first person to cross with it.

Nessuna breathes in and out slowly, not allowing herself to think too long that the strength of her knot would be responsible for the safety of one of her new companions.

Perhaps she should go first.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she nocks the arrow in her bow. The weight is off. 

A lot. 

The long, coiling rope adds heft to her bow and drags at her arms; she can feel it anchoring her down to the muddied ground. The thick knot rests against the shelf of her bow, already impeding her ability to loose it. She will have to move the arrow away from the bow to shoot without it rebounding against the upper limb of her weapon. 

Still, she aims and draws, getting a feel for the power she will have to put into this shot to get it across the river. When her shoulders begin to shake, she angles the shot higher and pulls in a deep breath. When she can hold no more air in she tugs the arrow so it pops slightly away from the bow and releases it with a snap. The knot clears the bow without grazing it and Nessuna’s breath bursts from her lungs in the next instant. 

She watches as the arrow soars high across the river as intended but drops faster than she imagined it would, the weight of the rope tugging the arrow slightly off of its path. The archer catches her breath for a moment, eyes trained on the projectile with worry. 

The arrow finds its home in the thick tree she had been aiming for. It is off center and lower than she wants, but she can see that it buried itself well. 

Nessuna allows herself to breathe. 

“Good work, Nessuna!” Maximilian says with a jaunty laugh, a warm hand falling on her shoulder with a friendly squeeze before it is gone again. He picks up the other end of the rope still lying at her feet and pulls on the slack so that the rope is not dragging through the water. 

“Now how should we secure this end?” The bard says.

Nessuna looks back at the treeline on their side. It is too far for them to tie the end of the rope to one of them.

“I think the wisest course of action would be for the lightest among us to cross first and the rest hold the line steady here.” Nessuna says. 

“I’ll go first,” Tiffani says, voice full of bravado even as his color begins to resemble Zixxes’.

“I don’t mind going first,” Nessuna offers.

“No, I’ve got this. I can go first.” They young boy says, almost indignantly as though she had called out his honor or courage. Nessuna steps back from the rope to allow him to go first; she knows it is of little use trying to talk a boy out of his stubbornness once it is set.

She thinks he will be safe. 

And if not, they are all holding the rope and will draw him back in. 

“Do not let go of the rope.” 

Nessuna is startled to hear Zixxes' voice so near. She had not noticed his approach but now sees him strapping his staff to his back and taking the end of the rope from Maximillian. He begins to wind the end around his forearm, digging his feet into the muddy earth and giving himself a sturdy stance. 

“If the arrow breaks, we can reel you back to land. But you must hold onto the rope.”

“It’s not going to break,” Tiffani snaps, not looking back at the other boy while he marches to the edge of the bank and wraps an unsteady hand around the rope there. Noori follows him and presses a hand to his shoulder, saying something Nessuna cannot hear. The young Wood Elf squares his shoulders as Noori moves away, and then ducks to wrap both hands and both of his legs around the rope so he is dangling upside down over the water. The rope dips slightly at the added weight, and a small grunt of effort from Zixxes has Nessuna and Maximillian moving to help the young man to bear the load. 

The rope goes taut and Tiffani makes his way carefully across the stretch of the river. His body does not dip into the water at all. He gets to the other side and drops off the rope, the sudden lack of weight causing Nessuna to stumble back a step before finding her feet again.

Tiffani stands on the other side and even in the distance Nessuna can see that there is a relief entering his expression. She is sure she would be able to see his color return to normal in a hurry if she was nearer. 

“Tiffani,” Nessuna calls him. “Can you check that the arrow and rope are secure?” 

He nods and moves to do just that. He does not touch the arrow, but checks the length of it to determine how much of it is sunk into the tree. She cannot see what he does to check the knot, but seconds later he is returning to the shoreline on his side.

“It looks good,” he calls. “But I’ll help to anchor on this side.” He grabs the rope line where it rests just above the water and tugs the slack that they had let fall. 

“I’ll go next,” Maximilian says. 

He unbuckles his belt as he marches to the shoreline. Noori is making her way back to the group, and as she passes the bard, the older woman presses a hand into his shoulder as she moves back up the beach.

Maximilian presses his round belly into the rope and then rebuckles the belt around it before swinging himself up much like Tiffani had. 

Nessuna, confused at what he was doing, is unprepared at the man’s sudden weight and Maximillian dips briefly into the water before she and Zixxes brace themselves for it, pulling the rope taut once more. 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Nessuna shouts to the now damp man. 

“Not a problem,” He grunts as he begins to scuttle across. “I should have counted off first,” he says with a laugh. He makes it all the way across without any other issues.

Nessuna looks to her remaining compatriots on the shore beside her. Zixxes still does not look ready to tackle this if his grip on the rope has anything to say about it. She can see angry burns on his hands and forearm from the rope sawing across his flesh. She looks at Noori.

“Would you like to go next?” Nessuna asks

“No dear. You should go first,” Noori insists.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes. Of course.” The Firbold lays a hand on Nessuna’s shoulder. A muted, shining light and the cool comfort of twilight envelopes her. She feels more confident; she feels her shoulders relax. 

Nessuna blinks up at the kindly smile of the older woman and warmth infuses her.

Oh.

This is why she is touching people.

Nessuna looks back once more at Zixxes and hopes that Noori can do the same for him when his time comes. 

Nessuna releases the rope and Noori takes up the vacated position in front of Zixxes, her soft, fur-covered hands wrapping around the rope as Nessuna makes her way to the water's edge. 

Nessuna removes one of the strips of cloth she always keeps with her and loops it around her waist. Then, much like Maximilian, she ties it to the rope to secure herself. 

She begins the slow-shuffle across the stream, keeping her body well above the drag of the water below. It is much harder than the others had made it look. It is a shuffle and a wiggle that, at first, is a little hard to find the rhythm of. But once she does, she aims her gaze between her feet and hurries as she is able, toward the men holding the rope steady on her destined shore.

Had she not been looking, she would not have seen the rip forming in the cloth as it scraped across the rough rope. As it is, she sees it give a second too late. Half of the cloth rips and she drops into the water. 

The current clutches at her heavy cloak and attempts to drag her away. She uses her arms and legs to yank herself back up to the rope and unhooks her tail from her waist to pluck the cloak from the water. 

“Careful!” The shout is a barked command from the shore she had just come from. “Be careful!” Zixxes’ young voice cracks on the second demand. 

Nessuna quickly begins to move again and hustles to the other side. Once she touches down Maximillan spells her dry once more with a boisterous laugh that sounds a little forced, a joke Nessuna doesn’t really hear. 

She keeps her back to the other shore, wanting to be sure her face would not appear stricken or fearful when she turned back around.

Finally, Nessuna screws up her courage and turns. She locks eyes with Zixxes.

 

{Part Sixteen: Alone on the Shore}