Falduin screamed.

The first half-hour of the journey down river had been rather pleasant.  He’d never been boating before (apart from their time on the barge). The warm sunshine, cool breeze, and the sound of the water lapping against the hull abated the fear and strain he had felt over the last few weeks, ever since he had fled the High Tower. If he’d been allowed, he would have fallen asleep.

However, Ifonsa kept him busy.  While they remained on the flatwater she taught him how to paddle.  She insisted that their lives depended on him mastering it before they journeyed further downstream.  Meanwhile, Ganthe was teaching Heric the same skills.

“Left!” Ifonsa cried, and Falduin swung his paddle to the other side and pulled hard.  He was covered in sweat, and he knew he would ache all over by nightfall. “Your other left!” Ifonsa screamed, and Falduin realised he’d made the same mistake again.  He quickly corrected.  

“Right!” Ifonsa cried, and so it went.

The boats had been carved from a single log, with braces placed to provided additional support.  Under normal circumstances it would have been easily big enough for the three (or four, for the other boat) of them to fit comfortably.  However their kit, as Ifonsa called it, took up much of the space at the bottom.  It was laid across the braces with a gap beneath.  Otherwise the kit would end up wallowing in the water that collected in the bowels of the boat.  Apparently that was inevitable, according to Ifonsa.  Lera had a small pail in case too much poured in.  

Similarly, the paddles were carved from single pieces of black wood.  They had long handles and the blades were shaped like large tear drops. They were heavy, and Falduin took some time to get used to the weight, especially during the initial strokes.  He would drive the paddle into the water with all his might, only to splash Lera as the blade broke free of the water.

“You will need to teach this to me soon,” Lera said to Falduin, in a brief moment of respite. “So I can have a chance to splash you.”

Falduin chuckled, “We’ll be a hundred leagues out to sea by the time you are healed enough,” he told her.

“I’m sorry.” Lera said.

“Don’t be.  I will hurt for the next week, but I’m enjoying this.”

He was, for now.  But that soon changed.

Once Ifonsa was satisfied that both crews were ready, they paddled downstream along the flatwater, flowing sedately through the forest.  At the bottom they came to a series of rapids, the water churned up until it became white and foamy.

Ifonsa had them paddle across the river from side to side through the foam, to ensure they knew how to deal with the agitated water.  It was tough work, and Falduin’s muscles screamed at every lunge and pull.  

Once satisfied with their efforts,  Ifonsa slowed to a halt. waiting until the second boat caught up.  She called out instructions. “Follow me.  Stay left,” she told the other crew. “Hang on.  You might get a little wet.”  Then to Falduin she said, “Go,”

They paddled hard, using the current to build up pace while guiding their boat towards the left side of the river. About a fifty paces ahead, rocks peeked out from the seething churn.

“Not too far left,” Ifonsa told Falduin.

Then Falduin saw what she meant.  About a quarter way in from the left side of the river there was a section of perfectly flat water, looking like the finest glass.  Around it the river was awash, swirling and spitting out white foam.  However,  the glassy surface was shaped like a wedge, the water seemingly still,  piercing the torrents around it.  Falduin aimed straight for the wedge.

“Left!” Ifonsa cried, then  “Right!”

About ten paces away, Falduin felt the boat kick as the current picked them up and hurtled them forth. Right through the wedge.   They continued to paddle, Ifonsa screaming out instructions, all the way through into the mass of white water at the bottom.  It tossed them about,  kicking the boat upward and then slamming it back down.  Cold, wet spray rained down upon them.  A few moments later, and they had successfully reached the quieter water below.

“Not bad,” Ifonsa said, as they turned the boat to watch the other crew’s journey.

Yet that was not what changed Falduin’s opinion of boating.  That occurred much later, after they had passed through several more cascades and had a brief luncheon as they allowed the current to carry them across the flatwater between them.

“This next part is called The Slot,” Ifonsa told them several hours after lunch. “Normally we would portage around it, but we don’t have the time, so we’re going through.”

“We’re ready for this,” Falduin found himself saying.

Ifonsa gave him a look, half mocking, half sympathetic, as if to say, No, you’re not. But she held back her usual acerbic tongue.  She let him find out just how wrong he was by himself.

The Slot was truly terrifying.  They could hear the roar from hundreds of paces away, the sound reverberating off the canyon walls.  

“Keep to the middle,” Ifonsa told them.  “If you get turned about, keep paddling.  Backwards if you need to other wise the current will slam you into the walls or rocks and you’ll lose more than your kit.  The undertow will suck you down, and you’ll end up as food for one of the giant catfish down in Thelna Moor.”

As they drew nearer, the roar became deafening.  Falduin could barely think. He could no longer hear Ifonsa’s directions.  He just did what came naturally.

The river narrowed until it was only a few tens of paces wide with sheer rockfaces either side.  Oaks and pine trees clung to the rocks, overhanging to form a tunnel.   Then the canyon turned sharply, and the water fell abruptly, racing through rocks, jutting from the swirling and bubbling water.

Falduin paddled as hard and as fast as he was able, trying to keep the boat in the middle of the river and away from the rocks.  Yet the current kept driving them to the right.  He struggled, attempting to steer them leftward.  Then there was a shudder.  They had hit a submerged rock.  He was thrown forward and almost lost hold of his paddle.

They were caught.  The boat twisted, the stern swung around by the deluge of water, the wave threatening to tip them over.

Falduin screamed out, as he paddled in reverse, trying to drive the boat backwards away from the rock.  Water poured over the side, soaking them. 

Ever so slowly they edged back, then suddenly the rear snapped around.  They plunged backwards through the churn.  

Falduin glanced over each shoulder as he drove his paddle into the ragged froth.  Behind him he could see Lera holding onto the sides of the boat, her knuckles white and her terrified face ashen.  Ifonsa constantly glanced over her own shoulders as he paddled feverishly.  For every stroke of the paddle Falduin completed, Ifonsa managed two and sometimes three. 

Down, down they plunged, backwards and almost out of control.  The bow swung around, caught by the water again, but this time Falduin raised his paddle and pushed off the wall.  It righted their course, although there were still going the wrong way.

Falduin glimpsed something racing towards them from further upstream.  It took him a moment to realise that it was the other boat being tossed about by the swirling water.  They were still heading front first, but several times something small appeared to almost be tossed over the side by the bucking boat.  Then he lost sight of them as the channel turned.

The boat dipped sharply, and Falduin felt his stomach rise mouthward.  He screamed again, his words lost in the roar. They fell, then slammed hard.  A gush of water smashed into Falduin’s face and he thought they had tipped over.

“Backwards,” he heard Lera’s shout.

Falduin drove his paddle into the water and backed away. The water washed down his front, and he saw that it originated from a waterfall.  He paddled with all his might, and only just in time.  The second boat shot out from the conduit to land where they had been just a few moments before.

Everyone in the second boat was wide eyed and drenched from head to toe.  Fahesha in particular was bedraggled, clutching tightly to Tegalie’s neck.  The cloth that she normally wore had been torn from her head, revealing her face. 

Her skin wasn’t one shade, but striped like one of the Deámnélerejúl demons he had been taught about in the High Tower. Alternating lines of brown and cream covered her face to disappeared beneath her clothing.

Fahesha stared back at him, terrified.  At first Falduin believed she was frightened because of the wild ride.  Then he realised the truth.

Fahesha was a goblin.

 

“She practically raised me!” Tegalie shouted at Ifonsa.

They were on the banks of the river, about a league further down from The Slot.  It had been a tense couple of hours as they searched for somewhere to pull in.  The shadows of the trees stretched out across the water by the time they found a bank with the river bottom shallow enough for them to wade.

“She is a goblin!” Ifonsa screamed.

Heric held Ifonsa back.  She had already taken one swipe at Fahesha with the wicked looking knife she held.  Falduin had never seen its like before.  Meanwhile, Fahesha murmured to herself as she cowered behind Tegalie.

As the argument raged, Falduin examined the weapon with his wizard sight.  It radiated with power, white tendrils curling and flexing to surround Ifonsa, casting her in a shadowy fog. Falduin attempted to trace its power source.   He expected it to have one.  However, just like with the hearth-cooled larder, he couldn’t trace any source whatsoever.

“Put the knife away,” Heric told Ifonsa.

“No.  She must die,” Ifonsa screamed. “They all must die!”

That confirmed Falduin’s suspicions. His masters had lied to him and the rest of their students.  It was clearly possible to still imbue an item with power.  Neither the hearth nor the knife were relics from Elder Days.  The weapon in particular looked to be only recently made. He wondered what else they had lied to him about.

“Fahesha’s death will not bring Adanna back,” Lera said, calmly.

Falduin’s eye was drawn to Lera’s blood-red breeches.  The ones she had urgently changed into the night before.  He liked the colour.  He especially liked how they made Lera look, much better than the all-white nonsense.  However when he expressed his mind to Lera, she scolded him.  She told him to keep his opinions to himself. That just left him confused. 

“No, but it will allow her to rest peacefully,” Ifonsa spat. She tried to push passed Heric, but he shifted to block her again.

“En said that the best revenge is to be better than those that hurt you,” Lera said.

“Just how many giants did he kill before he said that?”  Ifonsa snapped back. “I’m coming through,” she told Heric.  “If you get in my way then...”  She left the threat hanging.

Heric didn’t say anything, but even Falduin could sense that he’d steeled himself, ready for any assault.

Tegalie drew her sword and stepped up beside Heric. “You’ll need to go through me too.”

Lera stepped up to stand beside Heric as well.  “I will not allow you to harm Fahesha,” Lera said.  She did not draw her sword, Falduin noted.

“You would choose a goblin over all our years of friendship?” Ifonsa said, the bitterness of Lera’s betrayal bringing tears to Ifonsa’s eyes.

“I would save you from yourself,”  Lera said, levelly.

Falduin glanced over at Ganthe, who was watching the confrontation, his hand lingering near his knife.  He wondered what side Ganthe would take if it turned sharp (another of Ifonsa’s terms).

He himself  didn’t know what to do or what side to take.  Clearly, Ifonsa shouldn’t be allowed to murder Fahesha, but she did have a point.  Fahesha was a goblin.  Was she the reason why they were constantly being tracked?

Falduin was about to mention this thought when Fahesha intervened.  She pushed her way through to stand between Heric and Ifonsa.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she said. Then she ripped aside her robes to expose her breast.  “Kill me. Sister rests, eh?”

Ifonsa eyed the little woman uncertainly. There was her prize begging her to kill it.  Yet her knife remained stilled.

Meanwhile Falduin’s eye was drawn to Fahesha’s chest.  It was like someone had taken the breasts of two different women, one large and the other small, and attached them crudely.  Yet the brown and cream stripes continued down from Fahesha’s face and across her chest as though they were a natural part of her.  

Falduin had thought the stripes were some sort of paint, that goblins adorned themselves with pigments.  However it appeared not.  Then he realised that it wasn’t just her breasts that were misshapen.  Her face was too.  Although it was more subtle,  one side was definitely different from the other.  One eye larger.  One ear smaller.  The stripes helped masked the differences. 

Were all goblins like this?  He hadn’t had a good look during both battles, he was too busy not dying. 

“Eh?” Fahesha prompted.  She pointed at her chest, “Knife goes here. Quick.”  Fahesha pointed at her belly, “Or here.  Slow.  Much paining.  Choose!”  

Ifonsa peered at Fahesha.  Her face was twisted and ardent, torn between avenging her sister and provoking her friends.  She glanced at each of them, all taut and ready act.

Then Falduin noticed that Lera’s lips were moving, ever so slightly.  He doubted Ifonsa could see it.  His wizard sight confirmed his hunch.  Lera was using her power, just like she had used it against him.  A tendril of energy reached out and touched Ifonsa’s mind.

Ifonsa blinked.  

“Fexúelthútor!” she screamed. “Keep her away from me.”

Then she stormed off into the surrounding trees.