Something in his tone makes it clear there’s no arguing with him, andIfind myself nodding despite myself.
“All right,”Isay softly, grateful for his protectiveness.
He steps closer, reaching for my hand and entwines our fingers.Hisgrip is warm and steady.
“Stay with me,” he tells me.
I swallow and nod.
“All right.”
“Good—come on.”
We step into the river together.
The cold hits me immediately, stealing my breath in a sharp gasp as the water closes around my feet, then my ankles.It’scolder than the stream we camped by—colder than anythingI’vefelt in a long time—and it only gets worse as we wade deeper.
I gather my robes in one hand, lifting them as high asIcan, but it doesn’t help much.Thehem soaks through almost at once, clinging to my legs as the current presses against me.Itkeeps getting stronger untilI’mhaving trouble keeping my balance.
“Easy,”Theronmurmurs.“I’vegot you, sweetheart.Stayclose.”
I tighten my grip on his hand and keep going.Stepby step, we make our way toward the middle of the river.
I keep expecting it to drop off but to my surprise, the water only comes up to my mid-thighs once we get there.It’sstill fast—still pushing against us—but not as deep asI’dfeared.
I let out a small breath, trying to relax—this might not be so bad after all.
I close my eyes briefly, waiting…but nothing happens.There’sno glow, no crystal sphere appearing before me like it did before whenIcollected the hawk’s feather.
I frown in confusion.Whyisn’t it happening?Whyisn’t the crystal container appearing?
“That’s strange,”Imurmur.
Theron glances at me.
“What’s strange?”
“The collector,”Isay.“It’ssupposed to appear onceI’min the right place.Whereis it?Whyhasn’t it appeared?”
The river rushes past us, indifferent to my questions andIfeel like a fool.I’mdoing something wrong butIdon’t know what.
For a moment, confusion swirls through me but thenIremember what theGrimoiresaid andIknow what’s missing.Thespell isn’t just about collecting the water from theSacredRiver—Ihave to give something to make it work.
Something painful.
My throat tightens at the thought.
Theron must see the look on my face because his own face softens, and he leans down to look in my eyes.
“What is it, little one?”he asks.“Didyou figure it out?”
“I can’t just take the water,”Itell him.“Ihave to tell a truth—one that breaks my heart.”
Theron’s hand tightens around mine, but he doesn’t interrupt—he just stands there with me, steady and silent, waiting.
I stare down at the water, watching it rush past, and for a moment,Idon’t know ifIcan do it.BecauseIalready know what the truth is.I’vealways known.Ijust…don’t like to think about it.
My vision blurs suddenly andIblink hard, trying to keep the tears at bay.