Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [92]
Larajin did the only thing she could, forcing her body back under the water with a powerful stroke of her hands. The arrow thwooshed down into the water a mere palm's breadth from her as she turned and swam, keeping below the surface. Then another arrow, and another arrow cut the surface, questing for her.
Forcing herself deeper, she stroked away from the spot where the elf archer stood. As long as she stayed below the surface, the water would slow the arrows, preventing them from reaching her, but with bright moonlight illuminating the lake, the elf would have no trouble spotting her when she resurfaced. With only one meager gasp of air in her lungs, she knew she'd never be able to put enough distance between herself and the archer.
Even so, she resolved to try. She swam on, gradually releasing the air in her lungs, trying to conserve it for as long as possible. Sparkles appeared before her eyes, and a dizziness gripped her, but still she swam on. If she broke the surface at the last possible moment, then immediately dived again, perhaps the elf wouldn't spot her. But not yet-not just yet…
Larajin swam and swam-and continued to swim long
past the moment she should have been gasping for air. That was when she noticed the glow around her nose and mouth and felt the cool trickle of water down her nose and throat.
At first she assumed that the pressure of the water was forcing lake water into her nostrils, but instead of the harsh burning that usually caused, she felt a cool, soothing relief. In wonder, she opened her mouth and swallowed some of the water-and was immediately rewarded with a burst of energy that strengthened her muscles and cleared away the sparkles in her head. With a growing sense of wonder, she blew the water out again-and inhaled.
She was breathing water!
With a laugh that released the few tiny bubbles of air that had been in her lungs, Larajin gave thanks to the goddesses for their blessing. She had prayed for a spell to walk on water, but they had responded instead with what she truly needed: a spell that would save her life.
Swimming was easier than walking, especially with the strength that breathing water gave her. With sure, clean strokes, Larajin headed toward the distant shimmer of moonlight on water-the spot where the bases of the crystalline towers broke the surface.
As she swam, she wondered where Leifander was. Had he said or done something after meeting the patrol that caused them to suspect he had human blood in his veins? Had the same archer who was just shooting at Larajin already taken Leifander's life?
Realizing that she did not have the answers, Larajin pushed these morbid thoughts firmly out of her mind. There had to be some other explanation for Leifander not having met her, she told herself. But when she thought of one, it was just as unpalatable.
Perhaps, she thought, Leifander had been lying when he said he'd help her try to fulfill Somnilthra's prophecy and end the war. Leifander could easily pass for a full-blooded elf. The patrol would have received him with
*
open arms, not with a flight of arrows. Had he abandoned Larajin and their quest?
There was no use in thinking about that now. Instead, Larajin had to focus on the task at hand, locating Somnilthra and somehow awakening her.
With smooth, sure strokes, she swam toward the crystalline towers.
Soon the base of one of the towers loomed ahead in the water, shimmering like a crystal, its edges distorted by ripples. As Larajin swam nearer, the water grew colder, eventually reaching the chill temperature of glacial runoff. She shivered and felt her skin prickle with goose-bumps.
The lake water was too dark for her to see any details, even with her excellent night vision; for that she would have to break the surface. She hesitated a moment just beneath the surface of the lake, wondering if the transition