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.The moisture, barely a teaspoon, dribbled between her lips, and her mouth came alive.Her lips moistened and became full.Yes… Just a tiny bit had been so good, so reviving.Now she could rest some more.But she was already reaching up for the pool’s rim again.This time she did not cup her hand, but turned and gripped the edge to pull herself up.Water lapped at her fingertips as she peered over the rim, the pool’s glow bright in her eyes.She could not tell where the glow came from, but surely it was from the stone, not from the water.For that matter, she could not tell where the water had come from.There was no opening in the bottom of the pool, and there was no drip from above that would fill it.Perhaps when it rained water fell from the cavern ceiling…Shifting onto her knees, she submerged one hand in the water.She could see her fingers beneath the surface, her palm in shadow.The glow must be coming from underneath, from the stone, to cast that shadow, she reasoned.Magic, surely, but what kind, what source, and who or what put it there?Camilla had seen Hydra use the pool for scrying, for seeing distant places or people, and for casting her magic from afar.Blood had been a crucial part of Hydra’s magic, but there would be no blood in the pool now, not after so long.The water did not taste stagnant or putrid, so a fresh flow must have somehow washed the corruption away.“It’s just water,” she heard herself say, surprised that she could articulate words with her parched throat.If the water was tainted, what difference would it make? Dying from thirst could not be much better than dying from poisoned water, could it?“Just a mouthful.” She lowered her hand into the water, let it fill her palm.She lifted her hand to her lips and drew the moisture in.Just a mouthful.Tangy, wet, and so sweet, the life-giving water flooded her mouth, and she savored it for a moment before swallowing.A drop lingered on her lip, and she flicked it in with her tongue.So sweet…she thought, lowering her hand again into the pool’s depths, letting her fingers play in the moisture.Just water… Camilla almost laughed at her self-imposed torture; sitting here for days, parched and dying of thirst, when cool, clean water stood waiting for her only inches away.She was a victim of her own fears, but it was time to stop being afraid.It was time to drink, to take life and drink of it.She lowered her lips to the pool and drew the liquid into her mouth, slowly, tentatively, at first.Sweet water filled her, and she drank, closing her eyes in bliss.She opened her lips and drew in another glorious mouthful, and another.It was wonderful, the taste like fine wine, like an intoxicating liquor, like…Blood.Chapter 18Unwelcome Guests“Of all the terrible luck!” Emil Norris waded ashore, hauling on the jollyboat’s painter line until the little boat was high and dry.He looked back at the boat, where Tim was inspecting the damage an unseen coral head had done to the hull.Water was leaking out of a two-foot gash; they had made it through a gap in the reef easily enough, but a wave had pushed them into a lone coral head.Beyond the reef, Flothrindel was continuing her way south.“How bad is it?”“Bad enough, Father,” Tim answered, reaching inside to retrieve the stolen sword.He wiped it on a dry portion of his shirt and handed it over.“I’m afraid we’ll need another boat, but this one wasn’t going to get us back to Plume Isle anyway.We should haul it up into the trees.”“Right.” Emil grabbed one gunwale and Tim grabbed the other.The little boat was light enough that two could drag it easily, and they soon had it hidden in the deep foliage of the jungle.Tim recovered one of the oars, propped it carefully on a fallen log, then jumped on it, snapping off the blade.He picked up the shaft, drew his dagger and started sharpening the broken end.While Emil used a palm frond to smooth over the sand where they’d dragged the boat—Tim’s precautionary directive—he considered his encounter with Huffington [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]