Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [157]
High up on the beach, past the point where any waves might reach during one of the infrequent storms that lashed the island, Nira laid out the last of the fallen trunks. It had taken her a great deal of time to search through the thickets, but at last she had found enough material without needing to chop down living trees, which would have been anathema to a green priest. These trees had toppled over, from either age or harsh weather.
One by one, she dragged the lightweight, airy logs down to the beach, where she toiled with sharp rocks and shells to shave away the bark and knobby branches. Then, using techniques she recalled from shipwreck adventures she had read aloud to the worldtrees when she was an acolyte—Robinson Crusoe, The Mysterious Island, The Swiss Family Robinson—she bound the logs together two at a time with vines, then reinforced them with gummy sap. Slowly her raft took shape, growing wider and more seaworthy.
Each day as she made progress, an inner anxiety pushed her to hurry. At any time, Designate Udru’h might return for an unexpected visit, and she had to be away before then. He could not be allowed to see what she was doing. As a green priest, she didn’t need to waste time gathering supplies. The vast lake provided fresh water to drink, and the bright sunlight on her emerald skin gave all the nourishment she needed.
For now, what Nira required most was determination. She had been passive for too long. Osira’h must think her dead, as did Jora’h and everyone on Theroc. But that didn’t mean she had to give up on herself and remain stranded on this island. Though her chances were slim, she intended to take action and make a difference. The plan kept her alive and sane.
When the raft was ready, she rigged up a makeshift sail of thick leaves, used a pole to push the raft into the lake, and guided herself away from shore. She didn’t know where she was going, had no idea what direction the winds or currents might carry her. But no matter where she landed, Nira would consider it a starting point. She could set off and find her way…somewhere. For now, she felt satisfied just to get away from where the Designate had exiled her.
Nira looked up into the open sky and leaned back on her raft as she began to drift. She would go where fate chose to take her, and from there she would make her next plans.
For a full day, the breezes remained warm, then whipped up with greater force, rattling the drying leaves of her sail. The swaying of her raft on the choppy lake made her uneasy. All around her endless water stretched to a blue infinity with no hint of the nearest shore. Though Nira had never seen maps of Dobro, she knew this was just a lake, albeit an enormous one. She was not accustomed to being so far from solid ground, from living plants and trees.
Nira wondered how the Dobro Designate would react when he came back to her island and found her gone. He had kept her alive in order to use her for some grim purpose…but she had let herself be used too often by that terrible man, and she vowed it would not happen again.
The nights were lonely. Her leaf sail bowed outward as the wind picked up again. Overhead, the stars were obscured by thickening clouds. She could not see the gathering storm, but she could smell moisture and ozone in the air, hear far-off bursts of thunder. Rain began to pelt down, drenching her green skin. She clung to the sides of her raft as the choppy water began to buffet her.
Waves splashed over the logs. Though she had done her best to ensure that the bindings were strong, Nira’s floating craft was too fragile to withstand the power of this storm for long. But she had no place else to go, so she held on and rode out the weather.
Rain slashed down. Blinding forks of lightning burst across the sky. Shivering, Nira grasped the slick wooden logs and waited, not counting the endless minutes or hours.
She had been through worse ordeals when she