Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [32]
“Mina,” Rhys said, “I think Nightshade is right. We should start our journey home. You cannot cross this sand without hurting yourself. Goldmoon will understand—”
“I’m not leaving!” Mina stated petulantly. She had quit crying and now she was sulking. Her lower lip thrust out. She stood kicking the wet sand with the toe of her shoe. “Not without my present.”
“Mina …”
“It’s not fair!” she cried, wiping the back of her hand across her nose. “Why did this have to happen? I came all this way …”
She paused. Reaching down, ignoring Rhys’s warning to be careful, she picked up a small shard of broken glass. “This didn’t have to happen.”
Mina flung the glass shard into the air and it was joined by a million other shards, sparkling like rain drops in the sunshine. The pieces of glass fused together. Sea water, instead of draining out, flowed back inside.
Rhys suddenly found himself inside a crystal globe, submersed in fathoms of blue-green sea water, and he was drowning.
Holding his breath, Rhys stared about frantically, trying to find a way out. Nightshade was nearby, flailing his arms and kicking his feet, his cheeks puffed out. Atta paddled wildly, her eyes wide with terror. Mina, unaware of their predicament, was swimming away from them.
Rhys had only moments of life left. Atta was already sinking to the bottom. Rhys sliced through the water with his arms, kicked his feet, trying to reach Mina.
He managed to grab hold of her ankle. Mina twisted around. Her face was bright with pleasure. She was enjoying herself. The pleasure faded when she saw her friends were in trouble. She stared at them helplessly, seeming to have no idea what to do. Rhys’s lungs were going to burst. He was seeing dazzling stars and blue and yellow spots and he could no longer bear the pain. He opened his mouth, prepared to suck in death.
He gulped salt water and, though the sensation was not pleasant, he didn’t die. He floundered, shaken to find he was breathing water as easily as he had once breathed air. Nightshade, his mouth gaping, his eyes bulging, was spent. He floated limply in the water.
Mina caught hold of Atta, who had ceased to struggle. Mina petted the dog and kissed her and hugged her and Atta’s eyes flew open. The dog looked around frantically, panic-stricken, until she found Rhys. He swam over to her and was joined by Nightshade, who grabbed hold of his arm and tried to talk. All that came out were bubbles, but though Rhys couldn’t hear him, he understood the kender’s general meaning, which was, “You have to do something! She’s going to get us all killed!”
Rhys considered this was quite likely, but as for preventing it, he had no idea what to do. An ordinary six-year-old who misbehaved could be swatted or sent to bed without her supper. The idea of swatting Mina who, as Nightshade had said, could drop a mountain on their heads, was ludicrous. And, to be honest, Mina hadn’t misbehaved. She hadn’t deliberately tried to drown them. She’d made a simple mistake. Since she could breathe water as easily as air, she had assumed they could, too.
Mina swam underwater as though she’d been born to it, darting around them like a minnow, urging them to hurry. Rhys had learned to swim in the monastery, but he was hampered by his robes and by his staff, which he did not want to leave behind, and by his concern for Nightshade.
The kender had never learned to swim. He had never wanted to learn to swim. Now, given no choice in the matter, he thrashed about wildly, making no progress in any direction. He was about to give swimming up as hopeless when Atta passed him, churning the water with her front paws. Nightshade watched the dog and decided to emulate her. Not having paws, he used his hands and arms to paddle, and soon was able to keep up with the rest.
Mina swam excitedly on ahead, motioning for them to hurry. When they reached her, she was floating in the water, making small swirling motions with her hands, hovering above what appeared to be a child’s sand castle.
Simple